[𝙳𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝]

Last Login:
February 17th, 2020

Gender: Female
Status: In a relationship
Age: 27
Country: United States

Signup Date:
August 14, 2018




02/10/2020 07:01 PM 

OWWP: Lust

OWWP:Lust ft The Bright Knightwww.roleplayer.me/dorkknight
Clashing bodies writhing together, breathing heavily.
Straining, grunting, sweating.
Coming together heavily as they hit the ground, hands too busy grappling with each other to break the fall, Steph reflexively giggles.

"Oh this is funny, huh?"

D*ck's mouth now hovers over hers.
Taking the opportunity, she mashes her lips to his, cutting off anything else he might have been beginning to say.
Feeling his grip on her ease, she rolls them, shifting position, as one of his hands begins to tangle itself in her hair.
Slowly rearing back up, pushing on his shoulders, she broke into a grin, watching the realization spread across his face.


"I win~"

She sing songs, leaning down to give him a quick peck, and swinging herself off his prone form, back to her feet.

"That's not how it works!"

"Says the loser!"

"You're lucky we aren't playing Twister."

"Oh baby, break out the spinner, I'll beat you at that game too. Let me just go change first…"

After a pause, in which Grayson sits up, narrowing his eyes at Stephanie.

"....playing dirty…"

"Not my fault you haven't decided to weaponise my lust for you yet, bird brain. Learn to fight fire with fire." Stephanie Brown

02/05/2020 10:13 PM 

OWWP: Shame

Steph hated this.
She knew where this was going, and she wanted to leave.
But every time the topic of family came up in the friend group, Stephanie always found a way to weasel her way out of the conversation.
This time, as if they wanted to stop that, they brought it up in a moving vehicle (as if jumping from the car wasn't something Steph would do to avoid, well, anything she didn't want to do, really. But that's a different story).

"Ok, but, really. What's the deal with your dad, Steph. Honestly."

Jordanna twists from her seat in the front to look back at her, resting her chin across her arm, along the back of the head rest.
In a drawn out pause, in which Steph collected her thoughts, hand wandering to the car door, the idea of a tuck and roll more and more appealing, she sighs slowly.

"He was a criminal-"

'with a psychological tick that made him leave clues behind after his crimes, but he got cured of that, not the crime part thought, nono, rehabilitation only works so much, that used me as a pawn in his schemes, tried killing me repeatedly, killed dozens of people, faked his death several times now, was behind all the sh*t that went down at the college a little while back to try and make me 'better' at my job because he 'made' me what I am-'

"-with an ugly orange costume who's dead now-"

'totally not sitting in Blackgate right this second, absoluetly not planning some new bullsh*t to f*** with me.'

Jordanna frowned, saying nothing, as Steph rolled the window up and down absently. Francisco speaks softly.

"Hey, my dad isn't great either… but he's still my dad…"

"There's a difference between gambling debt and being a murderer who uses their child as a bargaining piece to try to make Batman and Robin do his dirty work, god damn it."

Slamming her fist into the door panel, sitting up stiffly, Stephanie snaps.
They sit in silence for a moment, in which Steph hangs her head, running her hands through her hair, clearing her throat, and sniffing sharply.

"Listen, can we just, not talk about my dad ever again, please? I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. But nothing brings me more… just, skin crawling shame like carrying his name…" Stephanie Brown

02/01/2020 02:13 PM 

OWWP: Nostalgic

"Mom have you seen my-"

Poking her head into the war zone that was a bedroom, Crystal cut her off.

"Whatever it is you're asking about, dear, no. I stopped coming in here when I decided I didn't want to see anything anymore. You're on your own on this one."

Puffing her cheek out in annoyance from her kneeling position on the floor next to her double bed, Stephanie three back the purple (because of course) sheets to continue her search under the bed.
Yanking several boxes out with force, she dumped them out all over the floor, as Crystal moved along, shaking her head.
Among the contents now strewn across her carpet were several 'locked' diaries (who was anyone kidding, those locks never kept anyone out) and a beat up note book.
Curiosity got the better of her.
She had a pretty good idea what would be in diaries.
'My dad sucks, Dean is an a**hole, Robin is cute' maybe even some 'Robin gets to know everything about me, but I don't even know his name. It's ok, I love him though' which, frankly, made her cringe just a bit, but the beat up note book was calling to her.
As soon as she flipped it open, and saw written in her own looping handwriting.

'Robin's War Journal. Day One.
I made it! I'm in!
He called me Robin! Me! It's official!'

Everything inside her ran both hot, then cold in second. The immediate reaction was to snap the book shut. Fling it across the room. Burn it. Anything but to keep holding onto it.
However, driven by a strange, almost morbid curiosity, she flicked through the pages again, finding the last page with anything written on it.

'Robin's War Journal. Day Seventy-One.
Seventy-One! Three long weeks off duty.'

She couldn't read any further. She remembered the day clearly. She was fired. Again. Looking back now, it was perfectly reasonable. She was told to stay put, Batman had the situation handled. She didn't stay put, and she almost permanently blinded him.
Robin for ten weeks, and wasn't even on duty for three of them? He was definitely only humoring her when he told her she was really Robin. Stephanie didn't even count herself as Robin.
Looking at the 'War Journal' in her hands, she knew what she had to do.
Slowly pushing herself to her feet, tiptoeing around the minefield that was bedroom now, whatever she was searching for long forgotten, she scooped up her bag heading for the front door as Crystal peered over the newspaper from the kitchen table.

"Back later. Don't worry about my room, I'll fix it later, loveyoubye!"

There was an odd nostalgic feeling about trying to be deliberately sneaky in the Batcave, after not having had to break into it for a few years, and being given permission to be there, to use things.
But in this case, she didn't want to be seen, or have to explain herself.
Even leaving the Compact well away from the cave and making the entrance on foot was almost like being back in high school.
Making the entry, she made a break for the console that housed the Batcomputer, and along with a purple sticky note stuck to the front, left the note book there, before making her mad dash exit before being caught.
In the same looping handwriting, written on the sticky note:

'Put this wherever you put my suits.' Stephanie Brown

01/19/2020 02:27 PM 

OWWP: Eclipse

     Startled awake by the sound of her window sliding open, Stephanie sat bolt upright in bed, grabbed the nearest object to her from the nightstand and hiked it across the room.


Even in the dark, Stephanie knew her room well enough to be able to hit her mark. However, she knew the voice. Sniffling before she cleared her throat to speak, her voice croaky.


Hearing the movement continue, and the window slip shut again, the ‘intruder’ spoke.

“Who else crawls through your window, you dork. You threw something at me!”

Sniffling again, pulling her knees up to her chest, she mumbled into the comforter.

“I was sleeping… You startled me…”

The light flicked on, Grayson smiling warmly over at her.

“Well, you’re sick. So I brought you sick person food.”

Crossing to sit on the bed with her, putting the bag in his hand next to her, he looked across to see what she threw at him, before slowly turning his head to stare back at her.

“Stephanie, does that book say 'Eclipse' on it? Are you reading Twi-”

“I’M SICK OK, LEAVE ME ALONE!” Stephanie Brown

01/19/2020 01:16 PM 

OWWP: Tradition

attention: | mentions: OWWP: Traditionwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Dropping the bag in front of the youngest Wayne as he sat, running a whetstone along the blade of his prized sword, Stephanie put her hands on her hips, grinning down at him with wicked intent.

“It has recently come to my attention that you have yet to be informed of the tradition, Gremlin.”

Not even raising his eyes from the blade, turning his entire body away from the blonde with a dismissive tut, Damian huffs.

“If you are involved with it Brown, it’s hardly a tradition worthy of anything.”

Rolling her eyes and shifting her weight to one leg, unphased by the barbs by now, she continued.

“This is a proud, and mighty tradition, young man! One you must partake in if you wish to call yourself a TRUE Robin. Started by Grayson himself!

His shoulders stiffen slightly. She had him on the hook. Now to just reel him in.

“But I understand if you’re too afraid. Not everyone is brave enough-”

She didn’t have to finish. Whipping around, sword pointed at her, eyes narrowed.

“I am no coward Brown, and I am the only true Robin. What is this ’Tradition’?”


She pushed the blade aside, unphased, and tipped the bag out, the grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
“You ready?”

She whispered, looking down at Damian as they crept into position. His skepticism remained, yet he followed along, the prompting of ‘true Robin’ status doing it’s job from the one he considered a ‘non Robin’.

“I am always ready, Brown.”

Handing him the paper bag, Stephanie peered around the corner, checked the time, and looked back to Damian.

“You understand the plan?”

An annoyed tutting, his cheeks puffing out.

“I’m not a simpleton.”

“Alright, alright. Because the timing has to be perfect. We only have a few second window for this to work. He’ll still be drowsy and have his guard down, but the second we drop the smoke-”

Sighing and rolling his eyes at her, Damian just shook his head slightly.

“Yes, I know. You’ve said. Repeatedly.”

“I want your first bat-prank to go right, ok? So sue me.”

She hissed. Hearing the door click open down the hall, and instinctively slapping each other on the arm, the plan was sprung.
Both Stephanie and Damian barreled down the hallway, Stephanie pelting a smoke pellet at the feet of the still waking up Bruce Wayne.
As she continued to run past him, following up with a water balloon filled with glue, hearing it hit its sleepy, confused mark.
Damian finished up, following through with the paper bag, flinging its contents on him.

“Good morning Father!”

She could almost have sworn there was a laugh in his voice as he said it.
Reaching the end of the hall, she pushed Damian onwards, as the smoke began to clear.

“You’re a real Robin now. Be free, little bird. Time for me to do my real part here.”


Came the roar from behind them.
Frowning in confusion, Damian was silenced before he could speak.

“It’s my job as former Robin to get you into trouble, and out of it. Now go. I’ll send you a picture of his face…”

Turning and grinning back down the hall she shoved Damian again.

“Heeey B…. I love the new look. The feathers and glitter are a bit out of character for you, but I like them…”

"I'm almost fifty percent sure nothing could go wrong."Stephanie Brownwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight

01/18/2020 09:17 PM 

OWWP: Reunion

OWWP:Reunion www.roleplayer.me/dorkknight
     "And I have to admit you done… admirab--"


Her arm moved reflexively, reaching to his words.
The shock of seeing the face of a dead man unmasking before her didn't last long as she quickly realized that everything in the last few days, the break in at Wayne Industries, the non-Amazo-Amazo she and Proxy had been tracking, the ambush on her person, had all been a test.
Another one of his god-damned games.
The shock, and for a split second, relief, that Bruce wasn't dead, was very quickly overwhelmed by the anger at still being a damn pawn to him, even when he was 'dead'.
The reflexive slap across his face stunned the both of them.
After a beat of stunned silence, in which the offending (heroic?) hand flew to Steph's mouth, covering it, before she turned on her heels and ran.
Ran for her life.
Probably not the reunion he was he expecting from someone who had been equally dramatic in their return from death.
Before fleeing the parking lot, Stephanie called out.

"I'm glad you're not dead!" Stephanie Brown

01/18/2020 05:48 PM 

OWWP: Haunted

     The dull whine of the drill as it tore through her flesh.
Jagged scraping of a scalpel against her gums.
Bright, white pain and mocking taunts, implications of her 'real use', before blackness repeating nightly, leaving her waking in a cold, panic ridden sweat, looking up at the roof of the tent.

"You're safe, Stephanie. No-one can hurt you anymore…"

Leslie would coo softly, smoothing her hair back gently as she changed the bandages.
Stephanie believed her.
Until the cycle repeated every night, leaving her haunted by the folds of the tent roof.
Stephanie Brown

01/17/2020 09:50 PM 

OWWP: Loyal

attention: | mentions: OWWP: Loyalwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
"Stephanie, get to Leslie's clinic. NOW."

The voice of one Tim Drake crackled through her comms, startling the blonde from the rooftop coffee break she was taking. Scowling and using the edge of her cape to dab at the spilled coffee on her chest, she responded absently.

"No names on comms, or whatever…"

"I swear to Go- Batgirl you are the closest. We're sending back up. Silent alarm was tripped. Assassins."

Jumping to her feet, coffee falling from the roof to the street below as she took flight, deploying the grapple, a scowl setting in across her usually bright features.

"Lead with that next time, genius. Same as last time?"

"Looks like it. Just get to Leslie."

"Yeah yeah, I'm going…"

A few minutes later, crawling through a window to the emergency clinic of Leslie Thompkins, Stephanie frowned, slowly turning her head.
It was quiet. Eerily quiet. And dark.
Activating her lenses and scanning the building slowly, she found a cluster of signatures, towards the back office.
Letting out a slow sigh, Steph pressed forwards, dread welling from the depths of her stomach, pouring into her chest.

"Sitrep, Batgirl."

A new voice. Not Tim. He wasn't joking about backup. Cass. She let out a shaky breath, and spoke in a low whisper.

"Clinic is dark, no eyes on Leslie. Room full of heat signatures. About to investigate."

"We're still ten minutes out, don't do anything stu-just stay alive."

Tim again.
Lips twitching into a reflexive smile, she shook her head.
Almost like old times. Batgirl, Robin and Spoiler.
She wasn't that person anymore. She was smarter.
Slowly cracking open the door to the office, seeing the would be assassins standing around the desk, Leslie sitting at it, with one more man, older, stood behind her, sword slowly drawn across her throat, resting there.
A precarious situation, but other than harried, Leslie was as of yet unharmed.
Keeping her hands in sight, Stephanie moved a step into the room, a weak smile pulled across her lips, before her mouth opened reflexively.

"Sorry I'm late, Leslie. 'Cross city traffic this time of night, you know how it is…"

'Oh my god. You just never stop, do you. It just falls out. There's no off switch to the mouth, is there?!'

As Batgirl took her step into the room, the assassins shifted, for the sword wielding man to wave them away, eying the blonde.

"I had been hoping for the Detective."

"Which one, the big broody one or the small sad one?"

A beat, before he narrows his eyes slightly.

"I see I'm not the only one that recognises Timothy's skills."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Skills. Obsessive disorders. Same difference."

Steph looked around the room, counting the assassins, before looking back to the man.

"Awful lot of killers for a li'l ol' doctor, don'tcha think?"

Also casting his eyes around the room, to what she could only assume were hand picked men and women, his mouth curled into a sneer, a familiar sneer, and before he could say whatever pretentious, condescending thing was going to spill from those curled lips, Stephanie gasped, snapped her fingers, and pointed at him.

"Oh! OH! I get it now! The sword! The 'I'm so great' attitude! You're the Gremlin's granddad! You're Ra's al Ghul!"

The comms in her ear crackle to life again, another voice, not Cassandra or Tim. Bruce.

"Do not engage. Do not do anything start a situation. I'm asking a lot of you right now, Batgirl, but stall. We're on the way."

You didn't have to tell her not to fight Ra's twice. She wouldn't if she didn't have to. The second part might be a little harder, what with her mouth having a mind of its own. However beat of silence and awkward shuffling between the assassins who weren't sure how to react to the declaration told Steph she was onto something.
Stalling engaged. She could do that.
You know. Probably
With minor stabbings.
Turning her gaze and lowering her pointed finger from the Demon's Head and tapped at her chin, getting ready to keep yammering.

"That makes sense now. I'm following. Ok…"

The sneer faltered, only slightly, setting into a displeased grimace. An expression Stephanie was all too familiar with from many a person.

"I expected better from the Apprentice…"

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Legitimately taken aback at being called an apprentice, she screwed up her face, flicking up the lenses, deliberately revealing more of the confused expression.

"Whose apprentice. Wh-?"

The sword lowered further, a flicker of his own confusion at Stephanie's very visible befuddled state, gesturing at her.

"... the Detectives. The Bats apprentice. You wear his symbol right now."

Shifting her stance from her slightly defensive, ready to react stance to one of being completely fed up, she flapped both arms in exasperation, then folded them.

"Man, I don't know where you've been getting your information, but he doesn't want me on the team, let alone consider me an apprentice. My presence alone annoys him to death. Do you know how many times I've been fired?"

Raising the sword tip again, having noticed it dipped, Ra's raised his chin.

"And yet, here you still stand."

Pulling a face, desperately wanting to get the blade away from Leslie, she shifted her weight again, unfolding her arms and putting her hands on her hips, looking at one of the assassins, sighing slowly.

"Yeah, I'm a slow learner sometimes. Not the brightest, y'know. I do a lot of stupid things…"

Hoping her one time foster mother followed along with the repeated idea of 'This is dumb' Steph dipped two fingers into a belt pouch and flicked the snagged green pod centered batarang towards Ra's.
If he was as arrogant as she thought he'd be he'd-YES
Striking the batarang out of the air with the sword, a mocking laugh starting in his chest, the goop, always the goop, impact triggered burst forth, spreading around him, encasing his sword and upper body.
As soon as the sword was away from her throat and encased, Leslie darted under the desk and out the door, which Steph pushed shut and stood in front of, like the worlds strangest bouncer.
The rage, and confusion visible on his face as Ra's struggled against the already set candy green rubber cement like mix, two of the assassins trying in vain to pull at it, he nodded towards Stephanie.


Bo staff and a utility belt full of crap against a room of assassins, one of which is like a billion years old?
What was that about being smarter that she used to be?
So far, the suit was earning its keep, saving her skin from blades that she wasn't dodging, but it couldn't save her from bludgeoning, or her exposed facial areas.
Ten minutes seemed like an awful long time when multiple people are fixated on ending your existence, but Stephanie would die before letting anything happen to her family.

"You're loyal, Apprentice. It's foolish, but admirable. That loyalty will get you killed."

The voice of the Demon's Head calls to her over the din of fighting. Reflexively, with a mouthful of blood, she laughs.

"Sounds about right. But you'd be wrong. It's already gotten me killed once. It's just gonna be my thing…"

A crashing from both behind her, and the other side of the room announcing the arrival of her backup allow her another, louder reflexive laugh, as she sinks to her knees.

"Will you tell that idiot I'm not your apprentice, boss?"

A dark cape sweeps over her as her head hits the floor, her last memory of the night a displeased grunt of a response, the old team back together again as her eyes slip shut.

"I'm almost fifty percent sure nothing could go wrong."Stephanie Brownwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight

01/16/2020 03:17 PM 

Buddy Cop: Drabble

attention: | mentions: Buddy Copwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
The hunched figure muttering a string of expletives at his desk amused the blonde.
The floor was poorly lit. You’d think a police department would turn on some lights or something, especially at night, in Gotham.
They must have been on patr-hahaha.
Toying with an idea that could very well get her shot, Stephanie swung herself noisily into a seated position onto the desk behind the seated figure and spoke, her voice the only other sound on the floor.

“You got shelved from a case too, huh?”

Whipping around, startled, Detective Nick Gage’s hand went towards his holster as he jumped to his feet, however stopped, upon seeing the amused expression of the purple and black (or was it just darker purple?) clad blonde batling perched cross-legged in front of him.
Running a hand through his hair and letting out a heavy sigh, the pacing began.

“I could have shot you!”


“How did you even get in here?!”


“...What did you say about getting shelved about a case?”

Breaking into a grin, turning her attention to the drawer by her knee, flicking it open and poking around inside it, she shrugged a shoulder casually.

“Weren’t you working the Inzerillo case? And you got told to drop it because there wasn’t ‘enough evidence’ or whatever?”

“I don’t even want to know what you’ve got bugged around here. At this point, between you and the Commissioner having the big Bat practically on speed dial I’m learning to just roll with the creepy bat thing.”

Gasping at being called creepy, before mock pouting, Stephanie got to her feet.

“You wound me. I’m the nice one. Aaaaanyway, what we are going to do, is not listen to our bosses, and go get evidence. I happen to know Jack Inzerillo, Enrico’s babiest of boys is going to be at the damn masquerade gala that all the snobbiest of snobs will be at-”

“Oh no”

“-and you, good detective, would probably clean up nicely. Go shave, comb your hair, straighten your tie, and meet me in the parking lot in fifteen minutes.”

“I already hate everything about this.”

“When have I ever steered you wrong?”

With a grumble of agreement, Saint Nick of the Gotham PD set off for the washroom, before poking his head back out the door in a moment of clarity.

“Wait, shelved too? Our bosses? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Batgirl what-”

However, the blonde was gone.
Fifteen minutes, and a million questions of his own sanity later, Gage left the precinct, out into the parking lot, spotting the purple tank-like vehicle idling. Sighing to himself, shifting his jacket to his other arm, he moved towards it, with increasing reluctance.
The heavily tinted window rolled down, and the driver called out to him.

“Get in, loser, we’re going crime fighting.”

Upon first inspection, the long dark hair, black full sleeved slinky evening gown and silver masquerade mask were a great disguise, but of course, once she spoke, it was very clearly Batgirl.

“I… don’t know what I was expecting…”

Nick slowly slipped into the passenger seat, as she grinned.

“Oh, it gets better. I’ve got a vehicle change and a jacket lined up for you. It might be a bit big but it’ll do the job. Two quick things. Not my first time under cover, like, at all, so if you could follow my lead, that’d be great.”

Steph started driving while she was talking, Nick looking around at, well, everything on the inside of the Compact.

“Sure. I can do that... I can’t say I’ve done under cover…”

“Goodie. Number two. My name for this is going to be Ella Malone. You Don’t have to worry too much about the first name. Elle, Elly, what ever. The Malone is the part you need. You follow?”

“Uh, sure? I follow…”

“Good. Now. Don’t actually say Malone unless you’re in trouble. Like, if you think any of the gangsters catch wind of you being a cop there under false pretenses? That's when you Malone up, you dig?”

Nick stopped to frown at her.

“I mean, I dig, but… I’ve seen you jump into a prison riot without a plan from a helicopter without a plan. What’s the deal.”

“Ah! But I did have a plan. And I was the only one in danger with that one if it went wrong. There’s a lot of civilians here. No crossfire.”

Stopping the Compact to pull up alongside a ‘borrowed’ Astin Martin, Stephanie smoothly transitioned from one vehicle to the next, her heels in hand, and scooping up a clothing bag, holding it out.

“I will be promptly murdered if you get blood on that jacket, so. Don’t bleed on it. It probably costs more than my entire tuition.”

After blinking in disbelief a few times, and dropping his jacket into the Compact before it got locked and armed, Nick looked at the currently-non-blonde incredulously.

“If this just… life, for you lot?”

“Hm? Fancy dress and fast cars? Do you not pay attention to the cape and jet engine cars? The dramatic roof leap exits? Masquerade balls are so last century. I want space parties.”

“....I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or not.”

“Pfft. What kind of detective even are you. This is why Bludhaven PD are better.”

“...Did you steal this car?”

“No. I borrowed it. With delayed permission.”

“Oh my god, I’m gonna lose my job.”

Throwing the Astin Martin into gear with a roll of her eyes and set off for the final destination.

“Nick. My guy. Your entire department functions thanks to vigilantism, and internalised corruption, you’ve been buddy buddy with me for ages, and now is when you start caring about laws? Relax, oh my god.”

Closing his eyes and hunching forward, resting his head against the dashboard, letting out a strangled groan of a scream, Stephanie grins wider.

“Nick, buddy, watch the leather, yeah?”

The bewildered glare shot at her at he snapped up his head was well worth it.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Arrived, parked and finalizing, Stephanie still seated and putting her shoes on, Nick sighed, wearily pulling the jacket, and putting it on.

“So, what’s the exact play?”

He asks softly, looking down at her. Grinning up at him, she clicked her fingers and pointed at him.

“We mingle, look like we belong. I’m gonna find ol’ Jackie boy, corner him, lift his damn phone, and get the hell out of there.”

“That's the plan? Why’d you need me?”

“AH! Well. We both wanna get rid of the Inzerillos, right?”

Nick nodded, frowning, unsure if he just wasn’t following something.

“But I was also told to say out of it, soooo…”

“You’re ‘helping’, even though I was told to stay out of it too.”

“He got it! Now let's roll. Walk like you belong. Because you do. This is your place. You own it. Feel that energy. Work with it.”

And with that, the bouncy walk that was followed typically by a cape was gone, and a confident sashay was in its place.
With Nick not too far behind, chin held high, ‘Ella’ casually scoped out the crowd as she entered, snagging a champagne flute from a tray as it passed.
Among the first spotted was one she immediately recognised as Bruce Wayne, masquerade or no. She had to work fast, especially if he had his damn lenses in. Turning to face Gage, a smile on her lips, her tone icy as she spoke quietly.

“Gotta move fast. Look like you belong. Just hold a drink. I’m gonna do what I went to school for.”

“Wait, there’s a school for… this?”

“Not anymore, I blew it up…”

She mutters, the smile twitching from practiced to genuine for a fraction of a second, leaving Nick confused, concerned, and in search of a drink, perhaps not just to hold.
After what felt like a lifetime, but could have been less than ten minutes, a commotion erupted from somewhere across the ballroom floor.
Abandoning the smalltalk with the bar keep, Nick started towards it, as ‘Ella’ burst out of the mass of people, holding the hem of her dress up, to storm away, as a few other men seemed to be ‘handling’ him, and one watched her leave, to leave himself.


Gage started, for Stephanie to grab his arm and yanked him toward the door, with surprising strength.

“Time to go. Explain on the move.”

“But did you-”

“Yes. He’s handsy, but yes. Mission success. But I think we’re about to be in a fat lot of trouble.”

Scowling and following her back to the Aston, shaking her grip loose, Nick, heeding the warning of death earlier started taking off the jacket.

“What, did you see more of the Inzerillo in there?”

“No, worse.”

“Would you stop being so cryptic?!”

The beleaguered detective flings an arm up in the air in frustration, as a soft rippling of fabric and a shadow pass over head. Hanging her head with a sigh and pointing in the direction of the lightest of footfalls sounding on the other side of the car, Stephanie grimaces.

“Hi B-mannnnn….”

She sings songs in forced cheer, swinging her arms awkwardly, shooting an apologetic look towards Gage, forgetting her current mask isn’t her cowl, and her expressions can’t be read as well.

“Was it worth it, Batgirl?”

“Well… Actually… Yes. Yes it was. I got what I wanted!”

After a beat of silence that felt like it dragged on for eternity, and the Bat having circled around the vehicle, Stephanie whined in discomfort and took the phone from where she stashed it; down her bra, before passing it over.
With the hand still extended, turning his gaze to the Detective watching the exchange, he looked him over.

“Nick Gage. 'Saint Nick' You’re meant to be one of the good ones. How’d she drag you into this?”

Scratching the back of his head, Nick shrugs, answering honestly.

“I’ve been asking myself that the entire time, sir. She talks so fast, you lose track of one thing and she’s roped you into something else.”

“Hn. Get home, detective. You’ll get your jacket back.”

With a stalled nod, knowing not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Nick awkwardly handed the ‘borrowed' jacket back to Stephanie, and took off walking, away, far away, from any more bat craziness for the night. Stephanie, seeing the still outstretched hand, tried hanging the jacket on it.

“No. The keys. And my wallet.”

Slowly grinning, taking them from the other side of the hidey hole, and sheepishly putting them into his palm, she folded her arms.

“How long did it take you to notice though…?”

“....too long.”

"I'm almost fifty percent sure nothing could go wrong."Stephanie Brownwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight

01/07/2020 11:28 PM 

OWWP- Regret

attention: | mentions:OWWP: Regretwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
"Stephie, honey, it's not going to kill you to take a night off. You look so tired."

Hunched over the plate of waffles in front of her, half awake, raising her eyebrows in quizzical response, Steph slowly straightened up and reached for polka dot coffee mug.

"I look tired, mother dearest, because I just woke up. Not for any other reason. Fret not!"

The corners of her mouth twitch into a small smile before sipping at the coffee, Crystal clicking her tongue in annoyance.

"I 'fret', Stephanie Brown, because you're, well, you. You run around with a cape and do dumb things."

Pointing with her fork, the pre cut piece of waffle dripping with syrup as she waved it over her plate.

"And a cloak. And sometimes no costume. I do dumb things naturally. Don't blame the suit."

Sighing and sitting across from the blonde, adjusting her glasses, Crystal stared down her daughter, in no mood for her joke deflections.

"Stephanie. You've died once already. And been in a coma. I worry about you. Every night. Every time there's a call out, and it's a young woman, I think they're going to be bringing you in."

Sighing, popping her food into her mouth and talking with her cheek packed, Steph reached across the kitchen table to take her mothers hand.

"Mom. I assure you. Oracle and I would never allow that to happen. The only reason I ended up in West Mercy General when I was in the coma was because the super gals panicked and went to the nearest hospital."

Scowling at Stephanie furiously, who was now offering a chipmunk cheeked smile, making it difficult for Crystal to tell whether she was being serious or not, she just sighed.

"Just… try not to die again."

Squeezing Steph's hand softly, Crystal lowers her eyes to the scarred knuckles of the blonde.

"I try everyday to not die. Does that make you feel better?"

Steph says softly, all jokes gone from her voice.

"No. Not even a little."

She squeezes tighter.

"Can't help you much there, mother. I have a job to do."

Stephanie says flatly.

"Why is it your job to do?"

Crystal raises her voice. It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation. Pulling her hand back, and getting to her feet, Stephanie says calmly, as she leaves the kitchen

"So people like me don't have to step up and have to do it for themselves when no one looks out for them. Or their mothers."

"Steph wait-"

She was already halfway up the stairs.
Chasing after the blonde, white laboratory coat flapping after her, Crystal wasn't as fast as the younger Brown. The bedroom door slammed in her face, lock clicking. Crystal knew by the time she went back down to the kitchen to get a knife to turn the safety mechanism from outside the door, Stephanie would likely have gone out the window, and taken her car to get to 'work' hours early, to prove a point.
Steph snagged her bag up as she barreled across her bedroom, through her bedroom window up and slipped out onto the roof.
It didn't bother her that she was still in her pyjamas, she was going to change anyway.
Dropping down off the roof, into the garden bed and setting off at a trot around to the Compact, slipping inside as her mother flung open the front door, Steph threw the Mini into reverse and squealed out of South Holden.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
In the Firewall, assembling 'rangs en mass, cowl hanging loose behind her head, scanner blaring, contemplating the existence of a frankenrang, a call over the scanner caught her attention.


Steph was already on the move. Pulling the cowl down over her face, running towards the Ricochet, she was out of there like a shot.
Skidding to a stop alongside the bustling fire trucks, prepared to offer assistance any way she could, when she saw a younger looking woman struggling with a firefighter.


"Ma'am, you can't, it's too dangerous!"

Slipping up to them, Batgirl puts her hands on both their arms to get their attentions.

"What's the problem?"

"My baby!"

The woman wails, clutched Stephs wrist. The firefighter, looking defeated, and wounded shakes his head.

"I can't send any of my men back in there! It's a death trap!"

Digging her oxygen mask from one of her belt pockets and clipping it to the bottom part of her cowl, Steph looks to the building.

"Good thing I'm not one of your men then. Which floor, what window. Be specific."

With a small yelp, the woman drags Steph a little way off to the side, and points up to the fifth floor, sixth window across.

"The firefighters just grabbed me. He was in his bed, I didn't-"

"No time. Shh"

Firing her grapple off above the window, Steph rocketed up towards the flame engulfed building. She didn't have the heart to tell the mother what the likelihood was that her child was going to be ok, but she would hate herself if she didn't try.
Crashing feet first through the window, flicking her lenses down to protect her eyes from the smoke, she saw good signs. This room wasn't on fire.
But with her just introducing fresh oxygen to the situation who's to say how long that would last.
Seeing curled up in the furthest corner from the door a small figure, she took small, careful steps, lest the floor give way.

"Hey buddy… you still with me over there?"

She called wearily. Seeing the head slowly raise she moved faster. Unclipping the mask from her cowl as she crouched, she held it to his face.

"I'm gonna get you outta here, ok? Your mom sent me. Hold onto this for me."

Glancing back at the window, she quickly realized she wasn't going to be able to carry a child out it. Her years of night time acrobatics, and frankly, luck, had gotten her through that much smaller than she had thought window.
Unclasping her cape she half picked him up, giving a small smile as she moved him as gently as she could as moved with haste. Wrapping him in the cape, before getting to her feet and tucking the last piece of cape across his face, she swallowed hard.

"This is gonna be a bumpy ride, but I have to cover your face so you don't get burnt ok? But you get to tell everyone later you ran through fire, ok?"

With a small nod of agreement, tucking the scared little face away, Steph gave a small squeeze of support to the kiddlet, before crossing to the door, taking a deep breath, and flinging it open.
The heat on the exposed lower half of her face was searing, and immediate. Tucking her chin into the bundle of cape and child she was carrying, and willing herself not to breathe, she took off at a run. Looking for the first hole in the floor she took it, grapple in hand.
Swinging into the next blazing hall, mentally correcting path for the front of the building, Steph kept moving. No longer existant front doors in sight, the thought crossed her mind.

'My luck the floor gives out right now and I fall into a flame filled basement to die again'

Skidding to a stop in the zone kept clear out the front, ash falling around them, coughing, weezing, realizing that you cannot hold your breath and run for your life at the same time, she flicked back the cape over her little bundles head.

"How you doing?"

She asks softly.

The wide eyes travel from her face, up to the building behind them.

"....we were in there?!"

"Yeah buddy. We were in there."



The little head snaps around, lowering the mask. Steph pushes it back up to his face and moves towards the ambulances, the very grateful mother meeting them there, with an almost crushing hug.

"....thank you."

After an awkward beat, and a shuffling of feet, Steph just pulled a tight lipped grimace of a smile.

"No need to thank me… I'm just doing my job…"

After standing, watching and making sure the oxygen masks got swapped appropriately, and being handed back her cape, Steph nudged the boys foot as he looked around the inside of the ambulance.

"Remember what we talked about. You ran through fire. You get to brag about that to your friends."

"And met Batgirl!"

He chirped, to which she shook her head slightly with a genuine half smile.

"That one's not as cool though. Be good. Don't give the doctors or nurses a hard time, ok?"

"Ok Batgirl."

Shaking her head, she made to take her leave.

Sitting on the roof of West Mercy General, looking out at the city, coughing slightly still, she sighed.
Sure, she did something good tonight. She did something good last night, and she'll probably do something good tomorrow night, but how much good will make up for the people that died because of her? The fact she started a gang war and destroyed the city? The fact she single handedly handed it all over to Roman Sionis on a silver platter?
And what if the floor had given away in her tonight? That mother would have lost her son. And Crystal would have had to deal with losing Steph. Again. What about Lea? How do you explain that to Lea?
Giving up her baby wasn't even her biggest regret. Her biggest regret at this point was becoming Robin.
No. Losing the Robin mantle because she didn't know how to listen.
Feeling a buzz against her thigh, Steph scowled softly, digging out her phone.
A text. From her mother. Of course.
She wasn't going to read it right now. She didn't have the energy. She was however, going to go break into the nurses break room, and give her mother a hug. Whether Crystal needed one or not, Steph needed it.

"I'm almost fifty percent sure nothing could go wrong."Stephanie Brownwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight


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