07/21/2023 12:02 PM  [Spoilers: RP Challenge] [Spoilers] roleplayer.me/dorkknight ’Dear Diary. Batman fired me. Again.’ Sniffling as wiped her nose on the sleeve of the sweatshirt she had practically been manhandled into, Steph looked up at the bloody skyline for a minute, wedging the battered notebook on her knees. Of course they wouldn’t let her leave the cave in the Robin suit after firing her. But… Still… Shivering lightly as a breeze passed over her, she hugged herself a little tighter. She should go back inside. But she didn’t want to deal with… Steph life right now either. Neither life was going well for her and she just wanted to – Jump a mile as a cape draped around her shoulders. Letting out a yelp, her hand reflexively swinging towards the ‘assailant’ – who had already sidestepped the blind swing – Stephanie froze. It took her a moment to realize she was looking at a Batgirl. But this wasn’t Cassandra. This one was blonde. And in purple. With her jaw slowly falling open, the Batgirl spoke. “Ok, pull it together. You were just Robin. I’m just spoiling things for you.” Gasping and scrambling to her knees, Stephanie pointed at her, the Batgirl that just spoke with her voice. Made her joke. “But… you… I..” “Yeah, We’re me. Hold it together babe. This isn’t the weirdest thing you’re gonna encounter, I promise you.” Stephanie clutched at the cape around her like a lifeline, her eyes wide and confused as the Batgirl continued. “I need you to listen to me. And listen to me carefully. You DO NOT need to prove yourself to Batman. At all. Ever. You don’t need his approval. You don’t need his attention. You Do. Not. Need. Batman. Are you listening to me?” Shaking her head, Steph puffed indignantly. “Just because you’re me doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do!” Groaning, as if it was the expected response, the Batgirl grabbed Stephanie by the elbow and dragged her through the window, pulling at her suit. As she raised the midriff, Steph caught sight of some marks and scars she recognised – the c-section scar hadn’t faded much over time, it seemed – but dozens of others. Reflexively averting her gaze as the entire top half of the suit was removed, the Batgirl standing in front of her in a sports bra, she looked her future? in the face, frowning lightly as she took in the baby-fat free features, marred with faint scars, her nose off center from repeated breakages. The Batgirl pointed to a scar above her left breast. “You’re two days away from making the biggest mistake of your life, Steph. Trust me when I say it’s not worth it. Hundreds die. Including you. After days of torture. And he still doesn’t approve of you after you come back. It’s not something you can force. Don’t die for that man. Give yourself a better story.” After a beat of silence, blinking back confused, frustrated tears, Stephanie moved to pinch at the scar, to prove to herself that it was real. That the Batgirl was real. With her fingers on the older bullet wound, she looked at the newer one in the center of her chest, her voice soft and shaky. “...How many times do I die? Does it hurt?” Inhaling slowly, the Batgirl swallowed hard, trying to force a smile. “That’s more spoilers than I’m comfortable giving you, kiddo…” template by (c)creativian 0 Comments

05/17/2023 08:54 PM  [Have Hope: Drabble]   Have Hope   roleplayer.me/dorkknight   It shouldn't have bothered her so much. I mean, it's not like it was the first time she had died (what a batfamily thing to think). And it wasn't even for that long. Sure, she was tortured before it again, but nowhere near as long – guess Cass wasn't letting her go missing for three days to be tortured to death again oh wait – but something about it being her own father over the creepy wooden masked freak just made it worse somehow. Like a deep personal betrayal. Which didn't even make sense considering everything Arthur had – or in some more important cases, hadn't – done. Finding herself unable to sleep more often, staring blankly at the ceiling, she didn't even trust herself to patrol alone at the moment. While she naturally had a hair-trigger temper, having a maelstrom of complex emotions and the after effects of Lazarus Serum in her system was a deadly combination for, well. Anyone that even looked at her the wrong way, honestly. All she had to do was push this down for long enough and it would be contained. Contained enough for her to be back to fine, at least. And then she could ignore it like every other problem she had. She had no problems. Everything was fine here. As long as she had hope, right?     template by (c)creativian   0 Comments

01/15/2023 08:47 PM  [Meditation: musings] [Meditation: Musing] roleplayer.me/dorkknight Why was this meditation thing so hard to do? Cass explained it easily enough. Sit. Breathe. No thoughts. And yet, every time Steph tried to meditate with Cassandra, with anyone, she got chased away. Sitting alone on the roof, looking over the skylight she took a moment, remembering everything she had read about meditation. Breathe in, clear your thoughts. Closing her eyes and setting her hands on her folded knees, her mind was silent for all of five seconds before she picked up the beat from a passing car, blaring its music. Drumming it onto her knee, she swayed to the rhythm of the beat now playing in her head. It wasn't until she started humming the tune that she caught herself. "Oh… so that's why… I get it now…" Meditation might not be up her alley, now that she thought about it. She might owe Cass a big ol' apology cake or something for years of annoyance. template by (c)creativian 0 Comments

04/11/2022 10:29 PM  Brush With Death - Multi Muse Monday Multi-Muse MondayDeath of the Endlesswww.roleplayer.me/dorkknight Groaning weakly, slumping against the smoke stack, Stephanie could hear the voices in her ears, through the comms, but she couldn't make out the words. Too many voices, all yelling at her, at once. She was sure she could get the gist of it. Something something reckless, something something half cocked, something something get yourself killed. They'd be right on that last part. Her vision was getting spotty, fast. She had to remind herself to keep breathing. She wasn't going to even try to say anything about her condition, because judging by the yelling at her — probably an attempt to keep her awake — she thought, half amused, half regretful she was making them do this, that Oracle could tell by her vitals she was in rough shape. Sinking down against the smoke stack, she fumbled for her first aid kit, hissing at herself, trying to stem the bleeding from the gash in her side. Just so she was doing something. It wasn't the gash she should have been worried about though. It was the toxin on the blade that slid through her suit, her supposedly knife proof suit, like butter. “I hate assassins…” She mumbles, head dropping forward. “We really need to stop meeting like this…” There it was. That voice. This time, Steph knew it wasn't a dream. And she wasn't afraid. Opening her eyes, she looked around. The first thing she noticed was the lack of the warm white glow. They were on the rooftop. Frowning, Stephanie moved away from her body, looking down at it. It was disconcerting, to see herself so… well… dead. Sitting, one leg folded over the other, on the top of the smokestack, slowly twirling a parasol as it sat on her shoulder, a top hat sitting on her knee, was, by now, an old friend. Death. “One of the job hazards, sorry…” Steph jokes reflexively, turning her attention back to herself, watching as the pool of blood at her side slowly grows beneath her. “Not you didn't go in alone, or withdrew the moment you got slashed…” Steph sank into a squat, running her hands through her hair. “Yeah, well. I didn't. I had a job to do. And I did it. So sue me…” After a brief pause, she looked up at Death, who had turned her attention out to the Gotham skyline. “Is this it for me then?” “It might be. We will have to wait and see…” “Wait and see for what? To see if I want to go back and fight again? Because that's a stupid question. I always want to fight.” Death laughed lightly, eyes still on the sky. “We aren't waiting on you this time, sweetness. We're waiting on-ah! Right on time.” Death slipped from the top of the smokestack and moved to be next to Stephanie's body, popping the top hat on her head with a little tap on the top of it, as the thud of heavy boots landed behind Steph. Turning to look behind her, she yelped as the form of the Bat barreled straight through her, or at least, where Death was allowing her to see things from, to her body. There were no words, only a slight growl, as her body was scooped up. “Was… was he… not going to find me or something?” Steph asks blankly, raising a brow, Death smiling almost as if to tease her slightly. “The chance was always there…” Rolling her eyes slightly, Steph folds her arms as her body was whisked away to, she presumed the Cave, for treatment. “I'm starting to work out your game, D. If he wasn't gonna get here, you wouldn't be talking to me about it. I'd just be gone. We wouldn't be wasting time.” Smiling at Stephanie and saying nothing, Death offered out her hand. Steph froze, eying it suspiciously, her confident declaration fading quickly. “Is it time?” Death tilted her head slightly, wiggling her fingers, hand still extended. "Do you want it to be time?" “... That doesn't answer my question, D.” Smiling in her most reassuring, matronly smile, Death lowered her hand, indicating she was messing with Steph. "The people around you don't like letting go of you." “Appart-f***ing-ly. That must piss off Destiny, or whatever.” Steph runs her hands through her hair again, Death just smiles mysteriously. “....Why is this my life. Why. I swear to god.” "Are you going to change it?" Steph was silent, looking at the pool of her own blood. "Didn't think so." Death hands her a hairbrush, Steph blinks in confusion, looking at it as if it held some answers to lifes questions. ”What...?” "It's your brush with death. Get a move on, Goldilocks." Death grabs Steph by the shoulders, spins her, and shoves her from the rooftop. She woke several hours later in the Batcave, with no reasonable explanation for how a hairbrush ended up in her utility belt. ’You lived what everyone gets. You got a lifetime.’ template credit. 0 Comments

04/11/2022 10:17 PM  Dealing with Death; Multi-Muse Monday Multi-Muse MondayDeath of the Endlesswww.roleplayer.me/dorkknight The gunshot piercing the night air wasn't anything new in Gotham, neither was the blood curdling scream that followed it. Two more shots rang out. Steph was already on the move after the first, grapple in hand, launching herself from the rooftop with determination, firing the gas powered line to swing off in the direction of the scream, recklessly making use of free falls and cape glides to get there as quickly as possible. It didn't sound good. Dropping into a fire escape, below her, she saw two figures running from the alleyway, and below her, a teen boy, sinking down against the wall. Letting out a low frustrated growl, she swung herself over the railing and dropped down into the alleyway, while speaking into the comms. “O, my location, heading east. Get them on cameras. Anything. I want them later. And get me paramedics as fast as you can. My buddy here is gonna need them.” Turning her attention to the paling, wide eyed, sweating teen, she put her hand out to him. “What's your name? Let me look at you. I'm gonna try to help you, alright?” Taking her hand, she used this opportunity to look at the stomach wounds he had been holding, doing her very best Bruce impersonation and keeping her face as impassive as possible, to try to make him feel safe. “Batgirl? Sh*t… my name is Aaron…” Unsnapping her cape with her hand that Aaron didn't have, she laid it on the ground, and nodded towards it, hearing the clicking of the keys, indicating Oracle was working on her requests. “Alright Aaron. Steady as it goes, lay down. I'm gonna take care of you until the paramedics get here. I want you to just keep talking to me, alright?” Easing him down onto her cape, she didn't even flinch as his bloody hand moved to her shoulder, into her hair. Once Aaron was on the ground, Steph pulled out the small first aid kit from her belt pouches, unrolling it across his thighs, her brow creasing as she focused on trying to stem the bleeding. “I had a dream kinda like this once. I wasn't shot though.” Aaron grunts, as Steph resisted the urge to reflexively roll her eyes. “I'm sure you did, bud. Tell me. Is there burning on your insides? I know that sounds like a weird question after being shot, but…” She looked up at him, seeing him nodding weakly, even more pale than before. Gritting her teeth, she puts his hand on her shoulder again. “Keep a grip for me, ok? Can you do that? Tell me about that dream. O, where are my paramedics?!” She managed to keep the edge from her voice, mostly. “They're still five minutes out, Steph, just hold on.” “He doesn't have five minutes!” She snapped, the grip on her shoulder non-existent. Yanking one of her thick gauntlets off, Steph moved to feel for a pulse, Aaron's eyes half way between open and closed, glassy and unfocused. It was there. Weak, but there. Just. That's when Steph started CPR. “Steph. Stephanie. The paramedics are thirty seconds out. Get out of there.” The voice snapped her out of her mumbled counting haze, of rhythmic compressions, and puffs of breath. Scowling, she continued, ignoring her mentor, as the red and blue lights lit up the alleyway. She didn't stop until the wheels of the gurney where next to her, and the hands of the other paramedic took over compressions. Wordlessly, she stood, and helped shifting him to the gurney, watching as they wheeled him into the back of the ambulance, catching sight of the weak heart rate on the monitor before the doors shut. Looking down at her bloody cape, she slowly bent down to pick it up, along with her gauntlet, and what was left of her first aid kit. Straightening up slowly, she closed her eyes and swallowed hard, feeling a familiar heaviness in her stomach. Death. Letting out a choked sob, she disconnected her comms, and sunk down in the alleyway, against the wall, hugging her bundled cape. “You did everything you could for him, you know, Stephanie Brown. You didn't give up on him. You never give up on anything.” A familiar voice. A voice she could have sworn was just a dream once. Looking up, on the fire escape, was the little goth woman, ankh glinting in the low light. Gritting her teeth slightly, turning her head away from her, Steph let out a low growl, pushing herself to her feet, blood now all down her front, as she shifted her grip on the cape. “Why are you talking to me, and not comforting Aaron, or something? I'm not the dead one…. Am I…?” She falters slightly, frowning, turning back to look at Death, who was now right next to her, making Steph jump a mile, and yelp, eliciting a small chuckle. “No, Stephanie. You aren't the dead one. Aaron is comfortable. I took his place this morning. Every year, I spend one day as a human who is destined to die, to remind myself what it is I do.” Frowning slightly, Steph tilts her head, looking down at the blood all down herself, then back to Death. “I was… trying to stop Death, from dying…” “Indeed you were. Small world.” Death smiled at Stephanie. That soft, warm smile, that reassured Stephanie again, as it did, years before hand. “Who decides who lives and dies, though? You?” She asks softly, frowning under her cowl. Death puts her hand on Steph's arm gently. “No, I just do the living and dying part. Destiny and the Fates work out all the bits…” Letting out a little grunt, Steph curls her lip in distaste. “Tell Destiny I don't like them. Or the Fates.” “I’m sure they already know. But, I'll let you do it yourself when it's your actual time to go, how's that sound? You might change your mind on them by then.” Narrowing her eyes at Death suspiciously, Steph jabs at her with a finger. “Know it all.” Smiling at her, Death smooths a patch of the bloody hair at Steph's shoulder, brushing it back over her shoulder, to pat her shoulder lightly. “You know how it is. Spoilers and all that.” “WOW! OH WOW! No you did not. That's my joke. How dare you, madame. Death or no…” “Well, you're very comforting to the dying, so, an eye for an eye, you know how it goes…” Steph falls silent, before pulling the smaller woman into a hug, and quickly releasing, grimacing. “Sorry, blood…” Laughing as she was squeezed, and released, Death came away clean. Looking down, Steph was no longer bloody. Before she could react in confusion, Death does it for her. “Bloody magic, right? Klarion gives you a headache? Get back to it Batgirl. Your city needs you.” Dumbfounded, Steph just nods, pulls her (now clean) cape and gauntlet on, grapples up onto the roof and reconnects the comms. “Steph! What happened?!” “Sorry O. Was dealing with Death. I should be good to go. Tell me you followed those guys…” ’You lived what everyone gets. You got a lifetime.’ template credit. 0 Comments

04/11/2022 09:54 PM  Steph and Death; Multi-Muse Monday Multi-Muse MondayDeath of the Endlesswww.roleplayer.me/dorkknight She remembered being so scared. So scared, and so… tired. It didn't matter that Batman was sitting there, next to her, telling her almost everything she wanted to hear. She was scared, because she could feel it. Death was coming for her. She knew it. She was sure Batman knew it too. Why else would he be sitting here with the war going on outside. The war she caused. Sitting here, telling her that of course she was really a Robin. “I think I need to rest now…” She mumbled. It wasn't what she wanted to say. She wanted to say more. Something else. Apologies for… well, everything. But she didn't have time. She felt it. She didn't want her last words to be something unfinished. ’Let me finish one thing properly in life… even if it is just a sentence…’ She thinks, her thoughts fading, eyes slipping shut. “Hello, Stephanie.” Her eyes snap open, all around her is white. Not blinding, or harsh, a dull, almost warm glow of white. Turning her head to her right, Stephanie finds the owner of the voice. A young woman, pale. Beautiful. Dressed, well, really cool, if we're being honest. Smiling at her softly. Swallowing hard, Steph frowned slightly, before looking around again. “Wh-where am I? What's happening?” The kind smile didn't shift, it was genuine, patient. She had been through this countless times before, after all. “Stephanie, I am Death. Right now, we are waiting.” “Death? I…” Steph paused, and nodded slowly. She didn't see a point in arguing with it. She knew what she just went through, after all. “I felt it… I felt you coming. I could tell… what are we waiting for..?” Death stood from the bench? seat? white mass they were both sitting on that blended into the rest of the surroundings, and slowly walked in front of Stephanie, slow, deliberate steps, lifting her legs much too high, almost like a playful marching stride, her hands clasped together behind her back. “I know. One of your friends is going to try to revive you. We're waiting to see if you want to go back to that. After everything you just went though, life won't be the same for you. You can fight, or you can rest. You've done enough, Stephanie Brown. Spoiler, and Robin.” Steph watched as Death paraded before her, resting her hands on her chin, her elbows on her knees, blankly staring at Death's boots for a moment. “...I don't think I'm done fighting yet, D…” Was she allowed to shorted Death's name like that? Raising her head, to look at the woman, now leaning on a parasol, where did thay even come from? also as black as the rest of her outfit, smiling at her still. “... But you knew I'd say that, didn't you…?” “You're a sharp one, Stephanie. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Of course I did. I just didn't think you should have been here alone while you were being revived. Being dead and alone can be traumatic. You didn't need anything else on top of today. Try not to see me again too soon though, alright?” Now it was Steph's turn to smile, slightly. A weak, watery smile, as she got the her feet, wiping her eyes, moving to embrace Death. “I make you literally no promises. I have no powers, and I work in Gotham.” Giving the blonde a light squeeze, Death let out a soft laugh. It was a musical laugh. Almost enought to make one forget where they were. Who they were with. “Oh, I know. You Gothamites are always skirting the line. But I also know that you're not going to be here for a while.” Stephanie tilted her head in confusion, unsure of that to make of that whole statement, then shook her head slightly, leting go. “Can I ask you something?” “Go ahead.” The whole exchange, a calm, almost matronly patience radiating from the one that called herself Death. “Where's the scythe and cloak?” Laughing again, putting her hand on the top of Stephanie's chest, she gives her a light push backwards, enough to knock her back out through the wall of white, answering as she does. “I ditched it after a few hundred years. It got cliché. I'm sure you understand clichés.” ’You lived what everyone gets. You got a lifetime.’ template credit. 0 Comments

03/31/2022 02:34 PM  [Memory Talk: 🎀] Memory Talk: 🎀 roleplayer.me/dorkknight {Content Warning; if you didn’t know how rough Steph’s childhood was, Child Abuse} As Wendy sat in silence for a moment, Steph grimaced, leaning over to pat her hand gently. “That one was a little heavy. I’m sorry. You good?” Wendy reflexively laughed, covering her face with her hands. “I should be asking you that. What the hell, Steph. Tell me there was something else that happened in your childhood that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.” Snorting a laugh, tapping at the wires experimentally with a fingertip she pulled a face. “I told you trauma dumping would happen. You were warned! I warned you! I dunno, Gimme a minute to think.” Raising her brows, about to question why that was something she had to think about, Wendy realized why. Steph just had herself when dealing with Cluemaster and all the criminal bad dad sh*t. She had Marvin. She had the Titans. Wendy had a support network. Steph, she was realizing… had Steph. While the blonde started hunting around for the insulation paste, she let out a long slow sigh. “I mean. How childhood are we talking? Because I don’t have a lot going on there… absent dad, mom sick. I’m trying to think of something that isn’t like. Crappy for you.” Offering a wry smile, Steph then aha’ed, finding the paste, and returning to her space. With a head shake, Wendy closed her eyes. “No, I know what I asked for… Just spit it out. Let’s get this over with.” Snorting a laugh, Steph just shook her head. “It’s not that bad this time, honest.” Eying her wearily, Wendy simply murmured the affirmative and waited, while Steph neared completion on the repairs, putting the screws back in place. “When dad was mad at me, he would lock me in a closet. Usually when I had interrupted him watching his stupid tapes or something.” With the immediate reaction being ’oh, is that all’ after knowing all the other things Arthur Brown has been known to do, Wendy remembered who she was talking to. “Wait. So how often were you in the closet?” Shrugging her shoulders and mumbling something that sounded something along the lines of ‘lost count’, Wendy decided she was now firmy a lifelong member of the ‘Cluemaster must be stopped’ club. With a triumphant ‘aha’ from the other side of the bench, Steph raised the repaired gauntlet up over her head. “We did it, Prox! Team Batgirl for the win! Thank you. And I’m really sorry… I’ll bring the donuts for the next week, ok?” Wendy felt like she should be the one bringing the donuts however. Next week, and forever. It must have shown on her face, as Step reached over to snag the protective glasses from her. “Don’t. Don’t do it. Don’t start. I don’t need sympathy, or pity, or whatever. I’m fine. I’m like, the most fine of all of us.” Giving a skeptical look, Wendy shook her head. “That math ain’t mathing for me. But… If you say you’re fine I’ll believe you. You know you don’t have to be fine though, right?” Just waving the gauntlet at her over her shoulder as she turned to leave, Steph laughed lightly. “You still like bear claws, right?” template by (c)creativian 0 Comments

03/31/2022 02:32 PM  [Memory Talk: 🙊] Memory Talk: 🙊 roleplayer.me/dorkknight {Content Warning; if you didn’t know how rough Steph’s childhood was, S.A.} “Speaking of your dad…” Wendy probed wearily. Rolling her eyes, and restarting her count Steph huffed, bracing herself. This could go anywhere from here. “Alright, here we go… What you got for me Wendy Harris.” Pausing, as if reconsidering the question on the tip of her tongue, Wendy decided to proceed. “Is there anything you don’t ever talk about?” Frowning as she slowly started absently tapping the container, trying to find the words. “I’m 99.9% certain Dad killed a man and framed it as an overdose to cover it up, because of me. For me? It’s…” Trailing off with a heavy breath to try to work out where to start, Wendy shifted in her wheelchair, instinctively wanting to reach for Steph but not knowing how she would take it. After a second, Steph shook her head, with a shrug. “I mean, Dad killing people isn’t a new thing. I should probably start at the start, huh?” Glancing at Wendy, who offered a small smile. “Might be easier to keep track of at least, yeah…” Nodding, Steph chewed at her lip for a moment, eyes fixed on where the wires had frayed. Scratching around for the safety goggles she passed them to Wendy before just shoving a pair of ‘borrowed’ sunglasses over her own eyes, and eying off lengths of soldering wire. “So, for a while, when I was like, ten, eleven, Dad was doing well. He was working a real job. Not being a crook. And he had this friend who became my babysitter…” Wendy already didn’t like where this was going, judging by how violent Steph got on some cases. Somehow she managed to bite back her ‘Oh no’. “Mom however, was still… struggling. And Dad decided she needed to go away for rehab. I’m still not entirely sure he actually took her to rehab, honestly, but that’s neither here nor there. Dad decided that Murray would be looking after me for that time. He had always been a little weird, and I couldn’t place why but… as soon as he was alone with me… Wendy knew where it was going. She felt sick to her stomach. Steph, however, soldered one of the wires quickly, her face fairly neutral, before continuing. “I worked it out pretty quickly… When he wouldn’t let go… so I bit his stupid face, and ran away. I spent one night in my school, but then I heard male voices and it… spooked me… this whole thing gave me issues with men for a while. I don’t think I’m entirely over it, honestly. And I didn’t know what to do, so I went home. I expected Murray to be there, but he wasn’t. I spent the next few days hiding under my bed with a knife and a tripwire of chips set up to hear anyone coming, but… he never came back to the house. And when mom and dad came home, I told dad, and he told me that… ‘that was his best friend I was talking about’, and ‘these were adult matters that I don't understand’.” Falling silent to repair more wiring, Steph then shrugged a shoulder slightly. Wendy waited a moment, then prompted her to continue. “So how does that become him killing someone…” Setting the sunglasses on top of her head, making an ‘oh yeah’ face, Steph let out the ghost of a laugh. “Right, well. That was like, the second mission I gave myself as Spoiler after dad. Making sure Murray couldn’t hurt any more girls. But I found out he died exactly eight days after dad came home. And he had a spotless record to that point. He didn’t OD. He was killed.” ”Good.” Shooting her a wry smile, Steph just shook her head. “Don’t let B or Oracle hear you saying that. That’s rebel child talk.” template by (c)creativian 0 Comments

03/31/2022 02:30 PM  [Memory Talk:🧠] Memory Talk:🧠 roleplayer.me/dorkknight After seeing progress had slowed when Steph had again fallen into silence, Wendy wracked her brain for another question, another… anything to drag from her. They had been good so far. She could keep that going right? Just had to pick her words right. “What’s something that’s had a big impact on you?” Was what fell out of her mouth. Maybe she had been spending too much time around Steph… The filter seems to have gotten disconnected at some point. Steph however didn’t seem too bothered by it, frowning in deep thought for a moment. After humming to herself, she ’Ahh’ed softly. “Well, dad would be the obvious, and boring answer there, so let’s go with something less… obvious, I guess.” Dragging a plastic tub towards herself she tipped the gauntlet ‘upside down’ and shook out the loose pieces and small screws, causing Wendy to just close her eyes and pretend she wasn't seeing what she was seeing. “There was a little window of time, where I got palmed off from Batman and Robin to Batgirl, then from Batgirl to the Birds of Prey. And Oracle wasn’t very fond of me, so it was more specifically Black Canary, so I was away from the Clocktower. That was, if they weren’t just telling me that I was going to get myself killed, that I should quit, and go home.” Wendy frowned, slowly opening her eyes, watching Steph’s face. A world where Steph and Babs didn’t get along? That was a thing? She watched this girl fight off all of Gotham when they weren’t in their right minds, and jump out of a plane head first JUST FOR Barbara Gordon. “Anyway… I was being left out of the loop, as per usual, so I just, y’know, broke into Canary’s place, as I would back in the day…” “Totally a thing people do. Break into the homes of one of the strongest hand to hand fighters on the planet.” Wendy made yet another mental note that Steph was in fact entirely fearless, incredibly stupid, or both. Steph just shrugged and continued. “And she was packing for something. I asked where we were going, and she reminded me that there wasn’t a we. That she wasn’t my mentor. As she did. But she called me talented. And driven. That was the only piece of reinforcement I had ever been given about the whole… cape thing. Black Canary called me talented.” Smiling softly, picking through the container and separating plastic shards from screws, Steph shrugged a shoulder. “It was nice. I mean, they were right though, I did get myself killed. But I got better… I mean really. Who hasn’t died and come back around here at this point, honestly.” Wendy cleared her throat slightly. “Most people… sweetie. It’s really just you cape wearing nut jobs…” Steph, very focused on counting the screws, then the screw holes in the gauntlet, didn’t raise her eyes. “Oh yeah… Hey! My dad doesn’t wear a cape…” ”Oh my god…” template by (c)creativian 0 Comments

03/31/2022 02:29 PM  [Memory Talk:🗝️] Memory Talk:🗝️ roleplayer.me/dorkknight Seeing that the prompt for auto pilot was working – at least a little – and she was getting some hot tea so far, and not the trauma dumping she was warned about, Wendy prodded again. “Ok but like. You’ve been in the field for a while now, all I did was look after Titan Tower. You have to have seen some pretty wild things. What’s something you’ll never forget?” The thin sad smile almost immediately shifted into a wide, proud grin as she tampered with the wiring. “Oh, this one is easy. So get this. Ivo, right, out here with his crazy robotics bullsh*t, as he does.” “As he does.” Wendy echoed in agreement, now leaning her elbow on the workbench to listen to Steph’s stories. Realistically, she could have fixed the gauntlet faster than Steph. They both knew that. But Steph was gonna Steph. “And these ones were probably the dumbest ones he’s come up with to date. I swear. Cyber Sirens. I’m not kidding. Sirens, like the ones from mythology.” Wendy let out an exasperated breath. “If you're about to tell me you made out with a robot I swear to god I will kneecap you…” “What? No. That’s only been my solution to a problem like, three times. Get off my back. I didn’t make out with a robot. Let me tell my story, woman. And leave my kneecaps out of it.” Huffing dramatically, but not truly offended, Steph shot her a grin before returning her eyes to the task at hand. “So the Cyber Sirens were sent to attack Washington DC. And the men folk couldn’t help. But that didn’t mean Wonder Woman couldn’t help. Or have her call in back up…” “No…” Wendy gasped slowly, as Steph just beamed. “She called me a warrior. I mean, not just me. But. I felt so awesome…” Letting out a sigh, she then pointed the screwdriver she had been none too delicately jabbing around inside the casing a moment before at Wendy. “And if I ever hear you say ‘I just looked after the Tower’ again, we’re fighting. You were a Titan. You graduated MIT at like, sixteen, I will end your entire existence. Don’t make me do it.” After a beat of silence, Wendy snorted a laugh. ”Cyber Sirens. Oh my god…” Throwing her head back with her own cackle, Steph just shook her head. “I know right?” template by (c)creativian 0 Comments

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