[𝙳𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝]

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January 22nd, 2020




Gender: Female
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Age: 27
Country: United States

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August 14, 2018


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09/09/2019 03:38 PM 

Prompt from; 𝑳 𝒖 𝒕 𝒉 𝒐 𝒓 ' 𝑱 𝒓.

attention: | mentions: 𝑳 𝒖 𝒕 𝒉 𝒐 𝒓 ' 𝑱 𝒓. Where is he?!www.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Prompt from; 𝑳 𝒖 𝒕 𝒉 𝒐 𝒓 ' 𝑱 𝒓.

Humming to herself, hunched over the keyboard of the massive computer (StephComputer? BatgirlComputer?) in the Firewall, trying to finalise the case file while her hands ached from the copious amounts of face punching she did to get to this point, she let out a sigh, rolling her head to the side, trying to stretch out her neck.
A blinking light to the upper left of the screen caught her attention. The perimeter security system was just tripped. Before the alert could even sound, the blonde was on her feet, snatching her cowl from next to the keyboard, and cramming it onto her head, as a blur of red and black streaked in through the vehicle entrance tunnel.
Ready to unload a handful of ‘rangs from her hip slung belt pouches, she stalled, sighing heavily, in annoyance, at recognition of the cause of the blur.

“What do you want, SB? And How did you even find this place?”

An equally annoyed huff from the Super Teen, as he sniffed, and looked around as casually as he could.

“X-ray vision, BG. I uh. needhelp”

He mumbled quickly at the end of the sentence, shifting his gaze to anywhere but the blonde, who blinked twice, turned her ear towards him and took a step closer.

“I’m sorry, what was that? Come again?”

Folding his arms and shifting uncomfortably, Kon growled in annoyance, hung his head and sighed heavily, before speaking with gritted teeth.

“I need your help.”

He wouldn’t have had to raise his head to see the Cheshire Cat like grin spreading across Stephanie’s face in that moment, so he pressed on.

“Look, I was working with T- Red Robin, and there was Kryptonite-”

The grin quickly faded, and Stephanie moved to snatch up her gauntlets.

“Let’s go. You just get me there. We won’t tell B-man.”

“See, this is why I came to you. He’d kill me.”

With a half snort, she shook her head slightly.

“Still might. Might kill us both yet.”

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
A good high speed flight later, the unlikely Bat and Super duo were crouched on the roof of a warehouse, peering in though the skylight. With her heat vision lenses activated, Steph counted five bodies below them.

“How many did you have to deal with before?”

She asks, barely in a whisper.

“Twelve. I still see the ones with kryptonite though.”

Nodding solemnly, she shoots him a glance.

“Then I guess I gotta do this the hard way. Hang back. You don’t have a whole lot of hand to hand training, I can’t cover you, try to recover the kryptonite, and do what I’m about to do all at the same time.”

Nodding reflexively, he then frowned.

“Wait, what are yo-”

Smashing through the skylight, Batgirl dropped directly onto the shoulders of one of the men, driving her knees into his shoulders, hand onto the back of his head, forcing him head first into the floor. Seeing another going for his pocket, she shot her grapple line around his legs, yanking herself to her feet as he toppled.
Retracting the line, she broke into a run, flicking the collapsible bo staff off her holster for it, then snapping it to its extended length to whip Goon Three across the jaw with it.
Seeing tripped up Goon Two start to get to his feet, Steph flicked the grapple across to her other hand, fired it around his arm holding himself up, and pulled, dropping him to his face.
Goons Four and Five emerged from a back room, wielding pipes as weapons. Striking the dazed Goon Three with the bo staff again, before sweeping his legs, she looked at Four and Five.

“....Boo!”

Realizing they didn’t have the same advantage the did against the Superboy and Red Robin in the form of sheer numbers and literally Kryptonite, they dropped the pipes, and began to turn and run.

“Not today, fellas…”

She mutters softly, before flinging an electrogooparang at them, coating them in her favored candy green rubber cement, that pulsed with an electric current, effectively tazing them.
Returning her attention to Goon Two, slowly approaching, rolling him with her foot, sinking into a crouch over him, digging through his pockets to retrieve the small lead lined box. With a quick confirmation by opening it to see the green glow inside it, tucking it away in her own lead lined belt pouch, she looked up to the skylight to signal it was clear for Conner to join her.
Taking up the hand of the shaken, skinned, and bleeding from his faceplant Goon, she smiled at him sweetly.

“Did you know that there’s twenty-seven bones in the human hand? It's truly fascinating. Now, Give us a hand. My buddy here and I are looking for a friend of ours. Perhaps you've seen him. Kinda short, also a masked hero. Last seen with you lot.”

“F*** you, you Bat-bitch. I ain’t gonna tell you sh*t.”

The sweet smile stayed on her lips, however it left her eyes, as she snapped a finger back sharply, twisting it.

“Wrong answer. Where is he?! Tell me, or I’ll break every bone in your body.”

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

09/07/2019 10:20 PM 

Habits: Drabble

attention: | mentions: Habitswww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Ricochet drop off in the woods a block from home.
Remotely return to base.
Zigzag through the backyards, hopping fences, avoiding dogs, dancing the line that was edges of the motion sensor security lights that would light up the sleepy pre dawn suburb.
Done hundreds of times, in every weather condition, Stephanie could have done the 'Get home from patrol' obstacle course in her sleep.
Realistically, she may have a few times, with some of the boot camps Cass put her through.
Slipping over her own back fence, into her backyard, she could have just walked through the back door. It wasn't like her mother didn't know about the whole Batgirl thing these days, even if she was home, but old habits were hard to break.
Climbing up the ever so carefully maintained lattice work, originally meant for some sort of vegetable garden, that just never seemed to take for some reason, Steph crawled up onto the first storey roof, before sliding her bedroom window open, and slipping inside.
"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Before her boots even touched the carpet, she was pulling the cowl away from her face, to throw it haphazardly at her bed with a weary sigh, ruffling her matted hair with the gauntlet.
It would take ninety seconds for her completely suit up for an emergency call out. For a post patrol 'Everything hurts, I don't even want to move anymore, oh god why' removal, it could take up to ten minutes, assuming there were no injuries.
Once Steph had taken her sweet time to free herself, have a shower, and slip some pajamas on, the sun had well and truly risen.
Squinting against the beams of golden light streaming through her window, drawing the curtains, she fell face first into her bed, feet hanging off the end, taking hold of the cowl as she did so, bringing her hand next to her face, looking into the empty eyeholes of it.

"I swear if they expect a daylight call out today they're sh*t outta lu-"

She was asleep before she could finish her smartass remark.
Not a bad way for an overworked, over tired college student to spend a Saturday, really.

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

08/27/2019 11:57 PM 

Bait: Drabble

attention: | mentions: Baitwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
"Oh, absolutely not. No. Go home, try again."

Looking down at herself, the skin tight, low cut blue camisole, the top of her bra peeking out, and the tartan print skirt that would be better suited as a belt, to her strappy heels, before looking back to Barbara, her arms folded across her chest in disapproval.

"You wanted bait, right? I look like a ditz. Perfect bait. What's the problem?"

After a brief stare off, between mentor and protogé, Babs sighs, hanging her head, pinching the bridge of her nose under her glasses, the blonde breaking into a triumphant grin.

"I was expecting something you could at least hide some form of weapon with…"

Steph held up her slender clutch purse, and flipped it open. Inside was her phone, her collapsible bo staff and her fake id's.

"I'm prepared. I'm ready to go. C'mon! If you want this creep, let's get this creep!"

Another reluctant sigh, and Babs wheeled herself back to her monitors.

"Fine. But I'm not going to be held responsible if you get killed again."

Making sure her clutch was still neatly packed, she rolled her eyes and flicked her hair dramatically.

"I studied the case file, O, I know what I'm getting myself into. I'm honestly your best bet. I fit his victim profile. Trust me, please."

Stephanie circled to crouch next to the armrest of the wheelchair, leaning her head on the side of the red heads arm.
Silence lingered, before Barbara lightly tweaked one of the loose curls, a faint frown on her face.

"It's not a matter of not trusting you, or having faith in your abilities. It's that you have a bad habit of almost dying. You have died. And whether people admit it or not, we'd hate it if you died on us again."

Turning her head to rest her chin on the armrest, looking up at Babs, Steph pulled a face.

"Yeah, well, don't tell anyone, but I kinda like being alive. So no matter the result of this, we don't tell Bruce. Because he would kill us both."

"Agreed. Now stand up properly, that skirt is not cut for that angle, Steph. God."

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
So far, the night had been… eventful, but not in the way she had wanted.
Damian had been informed of the job, and was letting Steph know what he thought about it with irritated huffs into her ear through the comms, knowing she couldn't easily always respond to him.

"So, tell me why you thought dressing like a common, street walking trollop, and making me spend the night babysit your idiotic backside was a good idea?"

Raising her glass to her lips (perks of a short skirt; free drinks) as she scanned the throngs of dancers, she spoke into it, doing her best to move her mouth the least amount possible.

"What has the Sixth Streets Slashers type been, Gremlin? And it wasn't my idea to have you here. It was O's. Blame her."

"Oh, so you're an impractically dressed idiot, using herself as bait, and drinking on the job. I hate you."

"Mm, delicious mocktails, I'll teach you all about how to look like you're having a good time some day."

"Stop talking. A guy who has followed you from the past three places is coming towards you. Act cool, if that's possible for you."

Falling silent, after actually taking a sip, raising her hand to scratch the back of her head, a choice finger extended in the direction of the Gremlin, she tried to pick the mark, while being casual.
She couldn't, however, see the guy. She knew what she was looking for, Damian had pointed him out after he turned up in the same place as her the second time.
Resisting the urge to frown, she was about to ask Robin if he had eyes on, when he spoke, just as she felt a sharp prick in her hip.

"He's on you."

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

08/24/2019 05:52 PM 

Caregivers: Drabble

attention: | mentions:Caregiverswww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Today was a strange day.
The atmosphere in the house was dour. Gloomy.
Steph knew what the cause of the dark cloud was, even if it wasn't hanging over her. It was over Crystal.
She had been watching her all morning, trying to go about her daily routine, and just not quite being there.
When Crystal started trying to put salt into her coffee over sugar, Stephanie stepped in. Guiding her to the kitchen table, and handing her an unsalted coffee, she wordlessly prepared her mother some toast.

"I feel so stupid, Stephie…"

Setting the toast down in front of her mother, purposely cut into four squares, like Crystal would do for Steph on her good days, when she was a small child, Steph leant back against the counter, pouring herself a coffee.

"You aren't stupid, Mom. Regardless of what I think of him, and what he did, you loved him. And you still do. Why else would you still have pictures of Dad everywhere?"

Crystal nodded absently, a faint smile on her lips at the sight of the toast, nibbling at one of the small, jammy squares, as Steph sipped from her well loved polka dot mug.

"So being sad on the anniversary of the day you found out he died isn't stupid. I'd be more worried about if you're going to be functional at work or not. Because you couldn't even make coffee. Are you sure you should be handling peoples lives today?"

Was she being a little harsh? Perhaps. But sometimes that was the best way to get through to her mother. Crystal looked up from her plate to Steph, frowning faintly, before nodding slowly.

"No, you're right. I'll call out."

"Good. I’ll go get you some ice cream, or chocolate or whatever you want, and you can just bunker down in bed with my laptop and watch movies all day, ok?"


"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Steph softened, her point being made, the correct conclusion being reached. Crystal nodded again, finishing her toast, before standing, and hugging her daughter.

"Thank you, Stephie. You've taken care of me for longer than I've cared to admit, just because I didn't want to deal with problems that-"

"Mom, please…"

"No, Stephanie, let me say this, please. I made you deal with very adult situations when you were just a baby, because I couldn't deal with my own issues, with your father. I made you protect yourself, protect us, because I couldn't. I was a failure of a mother, and I'm sorry."

Frowning herself, Steph felt the deep, sinking weight of guilt in her stomach.
It wasn't because she hated her father that she wasn't broken up about things, like her mother. Her feelings towards her father were very complicated, to say the least.
Steph wasn't sad, because she knew her father wasn't, in fact, dead.
He was in Gotham.
Well, Blackgate, actually. As Aaron Black. She had seen him herself since his 'death',
Hell, he had actually tried to kill her himself.
But she couldn't tell Crystal that. For fear of her running back to him, and spiralling down that self destructive hole she had pulled herself out of since Arthur had 'died'.
Letting out a soft sigh, and forcing a small smile, she nudges her mother.

"Hey, it's not all bad. You ended up with your very own superhero."

"I thought you hated being called that…"

As Steph started leading Crystal upstairs, to set her up before heading out before stocking her up on snacks.

"I’ll let it slide this time… I suggest the burrito technique. And start thinking about that list of snacks, alright?"

Once she had gotten Crystal set up, and a ten minute crash course on how to use Netflix, Steph trampled back down the stairs, pausing to look at one of the pictures she normally avoided.
Her birthday, when she was six. They almost looked like a normal family.
Frowning slightly, she sighed.
Maybe Batgirl would go pay Aaron Black a visit later tonight. But right now, Crystal Brown needed Stephanie.

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

08/22/2019 06:46 PM 

Sunrise: Drabble

attention:| mentions:Sunrisewww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
The rain was relentless, it was cold and biting against her lower face, her only exposed skin.
It wasn't the first time Steph was grateful for the fact her suit was insulated, and with Gothams weather, she knew it wouldn't be the last.
Saturated blonde strands sticking to her shoulders, she sighed softly to herself, subtle aches and pains setting in, as she sank down on the edge of a rooftop.
The night had been as unyielding as the downpour. The beginnings of what could have been another gang war between a branch of the Triad, the Neon Dragon Triad, and the Odessa Mob, Ukrainian Mafia.
It could have been a mess.
Well.
A bigger mess.
"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
But she handled it.
With copious amounts of gooparangs.
Now she was just hoping for the next few minutes to stay quiet, while she just… Sat.
The rain began to let up, clouds parting, revealing the predawn, hyper polluted skyline that reigned over Gotham.
Of a night, its sky was a blood red. During the day? A faint blue. But pre dawn? Just as the sun rose?
Well, let's just say Little Miss Lavender Lover didn't mind her days of sleep deprivation to see the sun rises.
Pulling a knee to her chest, wincing slightly, a faint smile on her face, Stephanie watched as the sun rose, and the skyline matched her suit.
Whatever happened today, it was going to be a good day.
"I'm almost fifty percent sure nothing could go wrong."Stephanie Brownwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight

08/18/2019 09:56 PM 

A 'Typical' Night: Drabble

attention: | mentions: A 'Typical' Nightwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
She should have been studying.
She should have been nose deep in those text books, reading until she went cross-eyed, scribbling notes until her finger tips bled… or something.
Something productive.
Instead, her brain was roughly thirty-three minutes away, and she was trying to balance a pen on her nose, while humming along to the music playing from her beat up laptop (No easy feat, when she kept swaying her head in time with the beat).
As she gets it steady, an amused grin spreading across her face, her phone begins to vibrate in a call notification on its perch on the keyboard. Swearing, snatching up the phone and hitting the spacebar to silence the goddess that was Marina in a relatively slick series of movements, managing to keep the pen in place, she held the phone above her face to see who dared, already preparing a torrent of bat related puns should it be Broodyboots.
Seeing Jordanna, again, she frowned, and answered.

"Jor? Everything alright?"

There was a brief pause, as if the line was dead, before spoke.

"You're gonna make fun of me…"

Sitting up, letting the pen fall into her hand, Steph frowned slightly.

"I highly doubt that. What's wrong…?"

A sharp exhale, and Jordanna spoke rapidly.

"Well, I like Francisco, and earlier today he told me that he and Michael were gonna start going to the gym, and I just sorta said I would go too. But I don’t want to go alone, I don't know anything about the gym!"

Steph narrowed her eyes, chewing at the pens end absently.

"I dunno, Jordanna, I'm in the middle of study right now… what makes you think I know anything about the gym anyway?"

The response was swift.

"Girl, one, I've seen your arms. You definitely lift. Two, please? I’m asking nicely?"

Snorting a laugh, Steph shook her head slightly.

"Who are you, and what did you do to the real Jordanna? Yeah, ok, ok. I’ll be there. Lemme guess. It's like, soon."

"Yeah! Don't wear anything weird, ok?"

Rolling into the campus gym, the first thought Steph had was quaint, before realizing in very sudden horror that she had gotten too used to the swanky Bat adjacent training facilities, with their high tech equipment, shiny machines and non existent dude bro B.O. stank.
Glancing around she noticed a few upper classmen she had seen around at the weight benches, before spotting Jordanna, Francisco, amd Michael just sort of… loitering around the elliptical machines.
The boys in gym shorts and tees, Jordanna in yoga pants and a cropped tee. Going for cute, but not trying too hard. Feasible for the gym. Not bad, not bad. Steph was in well worn sweats, complete with matching zip up hoodie, gym bag over her shoulder.

"Sorry, are you waiting for me?"

She says as she approaches, Jordanna looks her over, shaking her head slightly. Michael speaks first.

"Long time no see! Just trying to work out where to start, honestly…"

Steph gives him a look of utter pity, before adjusting her ponytail.

"I see why Jordanna called me now. You dummies would have hurt yourselves… you start with a warm up."

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Leading them away from the ellipticals and sitting on the ground, she motioned for them to follow, putting her feet together, knees out to the side.

"What makes you such an expert, huh?"

Michael fires back, the last to sit.

"I like to keep fit."

She shrugs a shoulder, which seemed to be enough for him, before leading them through a warm up. After Steph had decided they were safely warmed up, to regular, non Bat levels, reminding herself she wasn't prepping them to under go her training from Bruce or Cass, she shooed Jordanna and Francisco off to use the ellipticals together, at a low resistance, she offered to spot for Michael.

"Hey, I didn't mean to sound like a douche before… it's just-"

"You were starting to feel emasculated in a gym?"

"I-yeah…"

"Not even the most douchey thing I've heard today. But cut the sh*t."

By this point, Steph was taking off her hoodie so her sleeves wouldn't be potential hazards, leaving her in the sweats and a cropped sports top. After a few bench press reps, Michael speaks, Stephs focus still on the weights.

"That's a lot of scars, Steph. I think I've only ever seen you with sleeves on…"

"It's either sleeves or cover up makeup. I didn't think I'd end up taking the hoodie off…"

She mutters, frowning slightly. He set the bar on the rack, and sat up to look at her, which she took as her queue to step back.

"How did you… you know, get them? If you don't mind me asking."

Glancing over at the other two, who were facing the other way, and who seemed to be having a great time, she grabbed her water bottle from her gym bag, took a sip, and sighed.

"Well, y'know how my dad is part of the costume criminal freak squad…"

She started, which seemed to be enough for Michael. Nodding, he raised his hand, lowering his head.

"Ah! Say no more. I had an uncle that got killed in a Joker gas incident… He's not one of the big ones, is he."

Raising his head, almost nervously. Laughing lightly, she shook her head.

"Not even close. A second string underling, wanna be Riddler. The Cluemaster... f***in' lame name."

She rolled her eyes, before laughing softly, as Michael looked uncomfortable.

"Relax. He can't do anything. He's dead. And even if he had any 'buddies' around still, they wouldn't touch me. Not while I'm dating a cop, at least."

He let out a soft yelping, pointing at her, jumping to his feet.

"You have been dropping clues!"

In a strangled, almost wounded voice, she yelps in response.

"WHAT? I HAVE NOT?! Have I?"

"Maybe not intentionally. But Jor's been keeping track… we have suspects. And you just gave it all away! You go, Stephanie Brown."

She wasn't really listening. She was stuck on the fact she had been APPARENTLY LEAVING CLUES?!
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all...

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

08/12/2019 09:26 PM 

Sanctuary Session: Drabble

attention: | mentions: Sanctuary Sessionwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Taking the seat quietly, the blonde Batgirl sat, absently playing with the ends of her hair, twisting the strands in her fingers, trying to work out where, if, she wanted to start.
After a considered silence, she let out a slow sigh, let go of the twisted curl, dropped her hands into her lap, and raised her eyes to the camera, the cowl still covering her face.

“I am Batgirl. But not the first one. Like, the third, or fourth, or fifth one, depending on who you ask. No one remembers it, and, as much as I give them sh*t for it, I don’t think it ever really counted, I was Robin, for a little bit. Seventy-one days, actually.”

Lowering her head, shoulders slumping slightly.

“Not that I was counting, or anything…”

Pulling her cape in around herself, like a blanket, pulling her feet up onto the seat, her knees up to her chest, she rested her chin on them, frowning visibly, even with the cowl.

“And then I got fired. It wasn’t the first time I got fired. I used to get fired a lot. But going back to nobody Spoiler after being part of something, even when… I know I really wasn’t part of it…”

She trails off, sharply sniffling, clearing her throat and turning her head.

“....I died. I did something stupid after losing the Robin mantle, it was all my fault, and… I died. It’s pretty simple. But that’s not considered a real death, because I wasn’t in the grave. I wasn’t buried…. My heart stopped. I don’t care what anyone says. That’s dead.”

Sniffling again, it seemed like now that she had started, it was all going to be hard to reign herself back in. Resting her forehead on her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs, she continued after a considered pause, as if working out what she wanted to say.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
“When we were told my dad died? I kept telling everyone I was happy about it. That it was good he was dead. But it wasn’t. It just meant he could never be good. I just wanted to know why he was the way he was, and no one had answers for me because they all thought I was a part of another one of his sick games again. And then when I found out he wasn't dead? And the one behind framing me for murder, and killing people I knew, and just…. Being a general a**hole? I was glad he wasn’t dead, for a split second. Just one second. Then he put me in a coma with a dream spore, trying to kill me, yet again, and exposing me being Batgirl to mom by extension.”

Letting out a slow breath, she pulled the cape around her tighter, stifling a hiccup, and wiping her damp cheeks.

“It just makes me realise that I did make the right choice in giving up my daughter… I would have been a terrible mother. I can barely keep myself alive, let alone another human. I just hope she's happy, loved and healthy…”

She lowers her voice to a whisper, the tears welling up to the point of uncontainability.

“...I think about her every day…”

For several minutes, Batgirl sits, hugging her legs, using the weight of the cape as some form of comfort, before gathering herself, unfolding herself, straightening up, shoulders back, pushing her hair back over her shoulder, and clearing her throat.

“.... I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have this… the job, the mantles. But I have hope. And that's a start, right?”

Offering a watery smile, she holds her hands together in her lap, hanging her head slightly, before getting to her feet.

“... I think I’m gonna stick with keeping things bottled up, if it's all the same to you…. You don’t have enough tape for all my issues…”

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

08/11/2019 12:01 AM 

Happy Birthday To Me?:Drabble

attention: | mentions: Happy Birthday To Me?www.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
August 11th.
She had been purposely laying low, trying to avoid everyone she knew, her phone, it's perma-silenced state a blessing as the few observant people sent messages she could pretend to ignore.
You see, August 11th was the day she was brought, she assumes, kicking and screaming into the world.
Her mother never actually spoke about her birth. Steph assumed it must have been reasonable enough, no complications. Or maybe Crystal was too off her face to remember it. It was hard to say, really.
There was a reason Steph didn't talk to her mother about anything.
No. Her plans for this most glorious of days, was to hide out.
Not be expected to be excited about a day she didn't care about.
The point of celebrating birthdays were to celebrate another year of not dying anyway, right? A bit late for that one, for her. She had done that. So it seemed… pointless. Hollow. Almost mocking.
Every time her phone buzzed, she would pick it up to look, to make sure it wasn't a call out, but promptly set it back down upon seeing it wasn't.
Laying on her stomach, sprawled across her bed, study materials scattered around her, chewing the end of a pen, absently bobbing her foot to the music playing from her phone it was around 10:30pm when the angsty vocals of Haley Williams cut out, and the phone continued to vibrate across the text book it sat on.
Frowning slightly, picking it up, she frowned further, seeing who was calling her.
Jordanna
Answering the call, Steph spoke wearily.

"Jordanna?"

It was definitely Jordanna on the other end of the line, and she seemed to be intoxicated.

"Oh good, I knew you wouldn't have anything better to do. Listen, I really need your help.

There was a pause, in which Steph was considering hanging up on her, but sighed slowly.

"What's wrong…?"

She says slowly, shifting, swinging her legs off the bed.

"Listen, I came out on a date with a guy I met. And after I told him I wasn't going to go home with him he's totally ditched me here and-"

Stephanie was already pulling on her shoes and jacket

"Where are you?"

"Uh. Some place Downtown… I wasn't really paying a lot of attention. He was really charming, and good looking, and we were talking a lot…"

"Don't worry about it, Jor. Go wait in the ladies room, and I’ll come find you."

"How are you-"

"Don't worry about how. I’ll be there soon. Keep your phone on you, ok? I've gotta get off the phone now. I’ll be there."

"...ok… thank you…"

"...don't worry about it."

Ending the call, she started another one.

"Hey Babs? Can you do something for me real quick?"

"Hello to you too, Stephanie… I suppose, what is it?"

"I said Hey! Can you find someone based on their cell phone number?"

"Technically? Who are you trying to stalk?"

"Woman, one of my classmates just called me asking for help. Her date got her drunk and ditched her. She doesn't know where she is. Can you help or not."

After a brief moment of silence, in which Steph was already on her way out the door, Babs speaks again.

"What was the number?"

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Storming into the ladies room, Stephanie stands in the door way for a moment, looking around.

"Jordanna?"

The back stall unlocks slowly, a head of dark hair pokes out, looking at her, before the rest of Jordanna Spence rushes in Steph's direction, to throw a relieved hug around her shoulders. Awkwardly patting her back, Stephanie clears her throat slightly.

"I was worried you wouldn't come because I'm always such a jerk to you…"

Jordanna mutters, almost tearily. Steph can't help but laugh.

"Oh, sweetie. Don't even worry about it. If someone needs help, I help. C'mon. Let's get you some coffee…"

Offering her arm to her classmate, which Jordanna took, and lead her outside, and down the block.

"I know how you found me…"

Jordanna says softly, as they walk. Steph says nothing, just raising a brow at her. Jordanna leant in to excitedly whisper.

"I googled you, while I was waiting, just to do something. Stuff came up that didn't while I was searching for that mystery boyfriend of yours. You were a vigilante! A purple one, named Spoiler, to stop your dad, Cluemaster. And the you were Robin! Actually Robin! With Batman! That explains so much! But it also said you died. Had an obituary and everything. Look!"

Jordanna pulled out her phone and started showing a screenshot of it.

August 11 1999 - April 19 2014

Steph looked away. She had managed to avoid reading it this long, she wasn't gonna do it now.

"Don't believe everything you read on the internet, Jor. Obviously I'm not dead. I'm flesh and blood. You're holding my arm."

"But the other stuff. It all makes so much sense now, it's why you're so weird. Wait… the new Batgirl is blonde and wears purple too…"

Putting on her best exasperatedly exhausted face, which wasn't hard at this point, she looked at Jordanna.

"Girl, if I were Batgirl, wouldn't I have been out beating up bad guys and not picking up your call?"

She froze, frowning, thinking hard.

"C'mon. You're drunk, and frazzled. Let's get you that coffee, and get you home safe. I'm sure I'll be back to freak status by morning."

Taking off her jacket and giving it to Jordanna, before leading her into the diner, guiding her into a booth and paying for coffee, she sat back.

"Hey, Stephanie?"

Raising her brows over her mug in acknowledgement while sipping, Jordanna continued, holding her mug in both hands.

"Assuming that obituary was true, it's your birthday… what were you even doing that you could just run out of to come get me?"

Pausing, trying to work out how, if, she wanted to answer the question, she frowned slightly, lowering her mug.

"I was studying."

"...on your birthday."

"I don't celebrate my birthday. Just reminds me of childhood."

"....oh. I'm sorry. I know I've teased you about your dad before but… must be rough."

Half smiling, Steph shrugged a shoulder and turned her head to look out the window, lightly tapping a chipped pink manicured nail on the coffee mug.

"I honestly don't know if I'd change anything. The journey gets you to where you are, y'know?"

Jordanna snorted a laugh.

"Girl, that was corny. I was almost willing to believe you were cool enough to be a hero. Not after that."

"I told you! I'm not!"

"Yeah, well, whatever. Happy birthday anyway, you dweeb."

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

08/02/2019 04:57 PM 

Dreams and Reality: Drabble

attention: | mentions: Dreams and Realitywww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Eyes turned out the window of the empty classroom, the day of learning having ended probably hours ago, at this point, Stephanie only shifted to recross her ankles on the desk in front of her, moving so her feet wouldn’t fall asleep.
She never understood why philosophy was required for her major, but today's lecture hit her hard. About Dreams and Reality. It wasn’t all that long ago, really, that she was hit with Black Mercy, a Kryptonian spore that put you in a coma, and killed you by trapping you in dreams so perfect that you wished to never wake up.
Unfortunately for the Black Mercy, and her father, the one who dosed her with it to begin with, Steph may be a dreamer, but she knows when things are too good to be true. Even in dreams. She broke out of the spores grip on her before Doctor Midnite’s treatment was finished (a full blood transfusion).
Stubborn is as stubborn does, right?
She’s a real pain in the ass like that, as she told Barbara afterwards.
"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
The truth was, while she may have hope for Gotham, and pushes on to save the city, its people, the spore made a mistake in showing her what it did.
She didn’t really feel like she had friends, teams, or partners. She did most of her work alone. Team Batgirl didn’t work out. And that was ok. Steph pushed on. Steph did Steph.
A Lantern Ring for hope? Not likely. Not with how much self doubt she was filled with. She knew O did get a Green Lantern Ring during the Black Lantern issues though. Good job pulling memories in, spores.
A dark haired son, while living her best doctor lady life by day in a swanky high rise apartment, Nightwing by night? That was possible. Mantle stealing was kinda her thing. As were dark haired men. That one can’t be ruled out entirely.
But the point was. Black Mercy tried too hard with her.
It should have just shown her being Batgirl, and being good at it.
Not much of a dream, sure, but sometimes the best dreams are realistic
Watching as the sun went down over the city, her city, Stephanie slowly got to her feet, stretching up, cracking her joints with a slow twist of her shoulders and hips, and moved out to the parking lot, to the lonely Compact in the student lot, she slipped into the vehicle, making use of its heavily tinted windows to slip from street clothes to batsuit, and got to work.
The thing she did best.
Being Stephanie Brown, Batgirl.
"I'm almost fifty percent sure nothing could go wrong."Stephanie Brownwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight

07/14/2019 03:40 PM 

Shower Thoughts: Drabble

attention: | mentions: Shower Thoughtswww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Leaning her head against the cool tiles, eyes closing as the biting sting of hot water hit her skin, Stephanie let out a slow groan, trying to forget about the aches for a moment.
The bathroom, dark, filling with steam, lit only by a flickering candle, the blonde in no mood for harsh lighting right now, tried to focus on the water, and the music blaring from her phone, sat on the vanity counter, attempting to unwind a little from her, let's call it, less than stellar, night on the town.
Absently humming along to the Sia song playing, shifting her weight slowly, mentally assessing her condition, coming back with ’bruised and oh dear god why did you think that was a good idea’, Steph turned, facing the spray, folding her arms and using them as a form of pillow to lean her head on the wall over the taps, water hitting the top of her back, neck and shoulders, hissing slightly at her left shoulder.

“Note to self. See Alfred about that before bed…”

Muttering to herself, closing her eyes, she lowered her left arm, and just tried to stand still.
She probably should have seen Leslie when she was in the field when she felt it pull out of place to begin with, but Leslie liked to lecture her, and on top of everything else tonight, Steph wasn’t feeling a lecture. Nothing went wrong, per say.
But nothing went right either. Which was about right, in Stephanie Brown’s book.
No one died.
It’s just that sometimes, grapple points aren’t the most secure, and don’t like it when you’re swinging through with two fully grown men also on your line, trying to cut you out of the sky.
If it really was another dislocated shoulder she could deal with that. Even work with that.
No worries.<

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Shifting and tilting her head back, putting her face under the almost biting spray, holding her breath until her lungs started to ache, Stephanie slowly leaning back, blinking water from her eyes, she thought about how much things had changed since she started this.
How much she had changed.
It used to be about saving herself. Stopping her dad. Seeing Tim. Proving people wrong about her.
Now? Well, she was still always trying to prove people they were wrong about her. That was probably going to be a constant in her life. But it wasn’t about seeking approval, or validation anymore. It wasn’t about her. Or even Them (‘Them’ being the other vigilantes and heroes in Gotham, and anywhere, really, that dared to say she couldn’t).
It was about Gotham. The people that couldn’t help themselves. The people being told no one cared, and that believed it. Because it wasn’t true.
She cared.
Helping them, helping anyone, made this, her current, bruised, achy predicament worth every sleepless minute of it.
But she was going to need some form of rest. Batgirl might rule the night, but Stephanie Brown was barely functional during the day, and still had class in the morning.
Reluctantly turning off the spray, and wrapping herself in a towel, she cracked open the bathroom door, Elton John and steam creeping out into the hall, calling out.

“Hey Al? You available for a shoulder relocation? It’s been a long night…”

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

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