[𝚄𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍]

Last Login:
October 22nd, 2020

Gender: Female

Age: 20
Country: United States

Signup Date:
August 14, 2018


11/28/2019 05:10 PM 

[A Brown Thanksgiving: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: A Brown Thanksgivingwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
The holidays were never really a big deal for Steph. She understood what they were meant to mean, but with Arthur in and out of prison all the time, and up until a few years ago, Crystal in and out of stupors, being forced into rehab and then working all the time (holidays always were busy for the medical field), Thanksgiving was never really a thing for the Browns.
Alfred had made it clear to Stephanie a while back that she was always welcome to join them at the manor, and usually she just hid out, laid low, patrolled instead. But this year she had other ideas.
Crystal was on call, of course. And Steph was going to take her something to eat. With Alfreds help. Because God knows Steph couldn't cook to save her life.
Slipping into the kitchen, through the back door of the manor, instead of her usual creep in through the cave, looking over the island countertop, that had been converted into the workstation for this by Alfred, she frowned slightly.

"How much food do you think we're going to need, Al..?"

Steph asked softly, as the Butler dropped an apron over her head and motioned to the sink, for her to wash her hands.

"I wanted you to have options. I don't know what your mother likes to eat, and judging by the wording of your message, you wouldn't mind the chance to learn more about cooking either."

With no remarks to make back for once in her life, Steph tied the apron, washed her hands, and took up place next to Alfred at the counter.

"What's first, boss?"

Raising a slight brow at her words, but smiling faintly, Alfred passed Stephanie a bag containing green beans.

"Top and tail these, if you would, Miss Brown."

Steph looked at him in mild puzzlement, for Alfred to point at the stem and pointed tails.

"Cut those parts off. Then give the beans a rinse."

"Got it."

With the same determination she went about everything in life, Steph set about fixing the green beans. After a few moments of cutting in silence, in which Alfred was heating pans, she speaks up.

"Does it matter that they aren't all the same length?"

"Not at all, no. Some people might trim them all to be the same, but that would waste a lot of food."

Nodding as she moved to wash the beans, and set them back down on the cutting board, Alfred set about putting out the other vegetables for her to prepare, while looking between the meats.

"Which do you think she would prefer?"

"Is chicken an option?"

"Of course.

"Go with chicken. I don't think I've seen Mom eat red meat in forever… and Turkey is too much…"

With a nod, Alfred set about filleting and butterflying the chicken breast, before laying plastic wrap over it, rolling it flat.

"Whoa, what are you gonna do with the chicken, Al? I mean, like, slow down, I wanna know…"

Steph sets down the sprout she was in the middle of running over the mandolin slicer.

"I'm going to make a roulade, and stuff it with the same stuffing the turkey has. So it will almost be like a whole Thanksgiving meal."

Unsure what to say, Steph nodded, clearing her throat, and went back to slicing her sprouts.
It wasn't long before everything was ready for the pans, and Alfred was on Steph watch, who was on pan watch.
Every time she moved to touch them before it was time, there was a tutting, and she would sulk into her tea.
Steph didn't quite have the patience necessary for cooking.
She did, however, clean up after them very quickly, in her impatience, dishes done, bench wiped down, everything dried and put away, much to Alfreds insistence it didn't need to be done.
A timer that had been set, somewhere, that Steph didn't even know about, went off, startling her from her sulking about waiting for things to do. As Alfred got to his feet, Steph followed him to the cabinet.

"You may borrow some plates. But make sure they return, or I'm taking it out of your hide, Miss Stephanie."

Staring at him for a moment, she finally cracked, and hugged him, squeezing with all her surprising might.

"Thank you Alfred. For everything. You didn't have to do any of this…"

Hugging back for a moment, patting her back, he cleared his throat.

"None of us have to do anything, but we do, because we care."

She let go, nodding her head, wiping her face in her sleeves, and pointed at two terracotta, blue plates that looked like they had never seen the light of day.

"I think I'm picking up what you're putting down, Al… those ones…"

"Very well. Let's get this ready then, shall we? And the invitation still stands. You can come back after you've eaten with your mother. I could always use the extra set of hands in the kitchen."

"Oh, I dunno… maybe…"

Carefully boxing everything up, and setting it into a picnic basket, along with some non alcoholic apple cider that had been picked out, the plates, cutlery, and glasses, Steph was ready to go. With one last thank you hug, she set off for the hospital.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
At this point, it was easy for her to get onto the ward, with or without ID.
Waving at Crystal from the end of the ward silently, the patients all eating their meals by this time of evening, she raised the basket, and pointed to it, beaming, Crystal frowning in confusion. Holding up five fingers, which Steph took as '5 minutes', she went and leant against the wall, to be out of the way.
A very frazzled looking Crystal soon came to join her daughter.

"What are you doing down here? I thought you'd be… working?"

"Maybe later. I thought I'd bring you some food."

Steph wiggled the basket, cutlery, glasses and plates clicking together inside. Crystal ran a hand through her cropped hair.

"I've got time for a break…"

Leading Steph to the staff break room, Steph grinning from ear to ear as she started to unpack the basket of goodies.

"Did you make this?"

Crystal asked, cracking open the box containing the sliced sauteed sprouts, onion and bacon, as Steph started carving the roulade.

"I helped… I cut up stuff, but that was about it really. A friend did all the heavy lifting here."

"Stephie, you didn't have to…"

"I know… but we've never done anything for Thanksgiving. Like, ever. So…"

Crystal was silent as she thought about it, then nodded.

"You're right, we never have… well-"

Raising her glass of cider

"-I'm thankful for how my daughter turned out, despite, no, in spite of her parents."

Stalling for a moment, Steph raised her own glass, lightly touching it to Crystals.

"I'm thankful for friends and family… is that lame? I feel like that's lame…"

Both Brown women laugh, drinking to their thanks.

"We should take a picture!"

Steph chirps out of the blue, jumping to her feet, and rushing around behind Crystal, taking out her phone.

"Wh-Steph, I look exhausted!"

"Psh, so do I. It's fine. We need something for our first Thanksgiving."

Looping her arm around her mother's shoulder and mooshing her cheek against Crystals, beaming widely, she held up the front facing camera, poking her mother's other cheek.


Before snapping a series of pictures, as they both laughed.

Returning to her seat, she sent the worst one to her mother, grinning deviously at her.

"You've never looked better, Mom…"

"You're a sh*t, Stephanie Brown…"

"I know."

She sent the best one to Alfred, with a two word message; 'Thank you'

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

11/25/2019 01:59 PM 

[Graveside: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Gravesidewww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Stephanie Brown.
Technically, she was dead. She had died, rather, and quite painfully at that, but thanks to the wonders of modern medicine, Dr Leslie Thompkins made sure it didn't stay that way.
There was, in her opinion, an unwarranted memorial among the people who had died over those weeks of sheer pandemonium she had quite selfishly caused trying to prove a point, an obituary that was published in the damn newspaper, and was now eternally immortalised in the digital archives, and even a whole grave.
She had visited the memorial, and seen the obituary, but to this point, had avoided looking at the grave itself.
How are you meant to process that? Looking at a headstone with the date you died permanently carved on it, but not really, because you weren't buried and you didn't get dropped in the Lazarus Pit so it's not counted as a real death like Jason, or Damian's was.
It felt real enough to her. Unlike her fellow Dead Robins club members, she still has to deal with the physical ramifications of being tortured to death.
But as she sat there, gripping the steering wheel of the Compact, staring out at the immaculately kept lawns of the cemetery, perfect rows of headstones stretching for eternities, knuckles aching, trying to use the anger of her death being 'invalid' as a reason to not get out of the car. To sit, steam, and make excuses for herself. To not go see the last marker of her mistakes on this self styled, half assed attempt to come to terms with… something. Her mistakes? Repercussions? Her mortality?
At this point, she really didn't know why she was doing this to herself, but her unusually hard head was what got her a tombstone with her name on it in the first place, and drove a good 80% of her life choices, so it was almost poetic, really that it would bring her to see it.
Letting out a long, slow, almost measured sigh, relinquishing her vise grip on the wheel, to slump back momentarily, pout, catch sight of herself in the rear view mirror and lean into the back seat to fish around for her jacket, run a hand through her loose waves, and step out of the purple Mini Cooper.
Hands deep in her pockets as she wandered through the rows of tombstones, looking for her own name, idly musing over some of the more interesting names that caught her eye as she went, bowing her head in respect as she passed their final resting places.
She was surprised when she finally found the tombstone.
It sat as one of a few atop a small hill in the cemetery, with what would have been a really rather nice view, down to the pond and the weeping willows.
Kneeling down, and lightly tracing her fingers across the lettering that made up the name, her name, she gingerly picked up the dried, withered wreath of… there was no was for her to tell what they were now, brushing the decaying petals from the glossy surface of the marble head stone, before sinking back on her haunches.
"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
“It’s been a good long time since this young lady had any visitors… two years, I’d say….”

A voice behind her caused her to spring back to standing, and whip around, crushing the dried floral remains in the process, and the owner of the voice to laugh good naturedly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you… I just, don’t get a lot of live company…”

Letting out a nervous chuckle of her own, Steph looked back to the headstone, and brushed her hands absently on the sides of her legs. Time frame checked out. She ‘came back from the dead’ around then.

“Two years, huh? Do you remember all the… uh.. residents, or-”

Lifting the brim of his hat to scratch at his forehead absently, the older man shook his head slightly.

“This one sticks out… Small funeral, I’d say about fifteen people or so, including myself and the preacher giving his farewell, and Bruce Wayne of all people-”

Stephanie frowned slightly, folding her arms across herself, shifting uncomfortably.

“I can see why that would stick out. Not everyday you find a billionaire walking around the graves, huh?”

With a nod, ushering her in closer and lowering his voice, even though they were the only living souls in sight. Wearily taking the step closer, he continued.

“I found out later that week she was one of the masked vigilantes. They said she was Robin. Can you believe that?!”

Raising her brows to feign surprise, Steph then frowned slightly.

“Did ya ever see Batman or Robin, you know, the one that took over after her, out here?”

To her surprise, he nodded, adjusting his hat.

“Once. The year after she went under, to the day. Mostly saw the scary Batgirl though. A few times.”

Swallowing hard, Steph lowered her rapidly welling eyes to his shoes, nodding, responding thickly.


Awkwardly patting her on the shoulder, he motioned to the grave.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, though, please, go back to spending time with your friend…”

Giving a watery smile and nod in response, the blonde slowly shuffled back to the head stone, resting her hand on the impeccably carved marble surface and sinking back down. As she looked at the dark reflection of herself in the polished surface, watching the groundskeeper toddle off about his business, a million questions began popping up in her mind. Taking out her phone, she called Crystal. As her mother picked up, without even waiting for a greeting, she fired off the first, burning question.

“Hey, mom? Who paid for my funeral? This is a really nice headstone…”

“Wh-Steph-I- Are you at the cemetary right now?”

> “Mmhm. Who paid for it.”

“I don’t know, Stephie, I went into the funeral home to try to start organising things, and it had already been taken care of. I assumed maybe it was part of that secret government contract your father was a part of…”

“Hm. I dunno about that one… thanks, mom.”

Hanging up before she could respond, the ‘problem being solved’ frown set across Stephs features, she made another call.
This time to Leslie, who picked up on the second ring.


“Hi, no need to panic, just some questions. Question one. Did you pay for my funeral, and question two. How much money did you blow burying an empty casket?”

After a pause, sigh, and some shuffling Steph could only interpret as Leslie moving to her office.

“I’m surprised this hasn’t come up earlier… Yes, I paid for it. And the casket isn't empty. It has the body I showed Bruce.”

Immediately looking down to the grass beneath her feet, Steph was silent for a moment.

“You, uh. You wanna run that by me again, Doc?”

“I got the body of an overdose victim that looked similar enough as a horribly beaten and broken you that would pass as you, showed her on the autopsy table in your place, and she got buried.”

“Under my name. Leslie! What if she has family looking for her! What if she has a kid out there thinking mommy might come home someday?! No! We gotta dig her up. Give her her name back. Get her to her family.”

After a pause, Leslie sighs heavily.

“That’s going to be so much paperwork…”

“You did it, undo it! I’m gonna do my part of being legally alive. I might not be the greatest detective around, but I know a few tricks…”

Ending the call, she spoke to the ground, to the woman in her casket.

“I’m so sorry… I’ll get you your name back, at the very least. But until then, your next visitor won’t be two years down the line, I promise…”

She was back the next day with a small bouquet of Purple Hyacinth to lay at the base of the headstone.

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

11/21/2019 12:11 PM 

[Friend Files: Booster Gold]

attention: | mentions: Friend Files: Booster Goldwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Have you ever wondered what it's like to have a Bat as a friend? No, not a bat, the animal, a Bat, capital B, with the cape, and cowl. Well, strap in friends, while we go in this overprotective ride together.
The Bat in question is one Stephanie Brown. One might think her the least intense of the Bats, and upon first inspection, you might be right.
Might being the operative word in that sentence.
On the surface, she is carefree, bubbly, and sunshine. But underneath, she fixates.
How else do you think she wormed her way into the Batfamily? It wasn't because she had the skills of the others, believe you me.
She is, however, devoted, driven, and caring. When you are one of the people she considers a friend, whether you return the sentiment or not, you cannot shake her. She is going to go out of her way to make sure you are living your best life, and if you aren't, she'll fix it, come hell or high water.
You're stuck with the kindest human equivalent of mould you could get.
Try as you might, she will always be there, she will not go away.
You could literally beat her senseless and she would come back the next day, and do anything for you. Some have tried this method.
Is it deep seated problems she needs to get seen to?
Most likely. But that's not what we're here for.
We're here to see which one of her friends is going to be forced into living their best lives.
Michael Jon Carter, fellow Gothamite, however from a little further down the line originally, was the poor sap this time.
It's always easier to poke around in friends lives when they're other supers, honestly, thanks to Bruce, and his paranoia.
Brother Eye did the watching for her, she just… occasionally used it for personal reasons.
She was concerned, ok, shut up.
It was almost entirely out of character how low he had been laying though, until he had started talking to a reporter.
Looking over the stills from the dinner dates, she nodded in appreciation. Steph wasn't blind, after all.

"Oooh-hooh, Allison, huh. You sly dog... get it, Boost."

However. In her totally not creepy at all way, she's just being a concerned and interested friend ok, from a distance, monitoring of the developing, or rather, stop starting of what should be a developing relationship, Stephanie decided it was time to get involved.
Tinkerbell needed a talking to, stat. Skeets could only pep talk so much, and she was fairly sure romance wasn't in his subdrivers, or whatever technobabble was applicable to 25th century drone sidekicks. She was dust in their time.
She knew what she must do.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
By the time Michael shuffled into his apartment, flicked on the light, shut the door behind him and turned around, he noticed something was off about his space.
Perched on the arm of the couch, hunched under the cape, tufts of blonde poking out under the back of the cowl, white lenses illuminated, staring directly at him. It might have been intimidating, had she have been the originator of the pose, and not a 5'5", 120 odd pound woman, who, upon the initial flicker of a startled expression across burst into a fit of giggles and almost fell backwards off the arm of the chair, having to unfold herself quickly to stop it, which, frankly, looked ridiculous.
Like a black, purple and gold gargoyle exploding into flailing limbs.

"You should have seen your face!"

She eventually wheezes out, getting to her feet. Unamused, setting his belongings down, Michael shook his head and crossed to the kitchen.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this break in, Steph?"

Tailing him, and sliding the lenses of the cowl up and away, to her preferred open eye state, she leant against the bench behind him, as he hunted through the refrigerator for… something? a reason to not have to look at the cowl wearing intruder, maybe?
Never one to beat around the bush, Stephanie, resting her hands against her small of her back jumps straight to the point.

"So, why aren't you just, like, getting with Allison?"


Jerking his head in surprise at her words, and meeting the inside of the fridge with the top of his head as he whipped around to look at her, almost bewildered, Michael frowns.


He doesn't even finish the question. Stephanie was already indicating to the pointed ears of her cowl, eyebrows raised, smiling faintly.

"-right. Bat. I forget that it's not just Him that knows everything."

"I'm not arrogant enough to say I know everything. Just the stuff I want to know. So. Spill. What's the issue? She got weird B.O or something?"

"What? No! She's… amazing. We'd be great together. I just… can't."

Staring at him blankly for a moment, Stephanie tilts her head to the side, making sure she registered what she heard correctly, straightened up, and let out a heavy sigh.

"I see. This is one of those 'Oh no, love hurts, I don't want to get hurt' things, isn't it?"

She may not have been the world's greatest detective, or even top 5 in the Batfam, but she knew enough about egos.

"I swear to go- Tinkerbell. You go to that woman right now, and you tell her that you want to give it a shot. I saw the pictures. You two were so damn happy. People deserve happiness.-"

Seeing him open his mouth to start to protest she closed the gap in the kitchen in a stride, and swatted him on the forehead.

"- No backtalk, respect your elders, future boy. Even people who think they don't deserve happiness, deserve happiness. Even the people who think, with all the mistakes they've made, all the monumental f*** ups they've made, and people who have gotten hurt because of them, deserve to be happy. Because you aren't your mistakes. They don't define you, Boost."

She started fiery, like she could punch him for thinking he didn't deserve to be happy, but softened as she went, resting her hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

"Besides. If you don't do something about it, I will."

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

11/19/2019 07:32 PM 

[Very Bad Day: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Very Bad Daywww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Stephanie Brown was having an outright no good, awful, very bad day.
To start with, she hadn't slept for going on three days, on top of her already atrocious sleep schedule.
Some Uptown yuppie in their fancy new Lexus that Mommy or Daddy bought them cut her off pulling into the college parking lot, causing her to slam on her breaks so hard both her undone bags (the book bag, and her suit bag) got scattered to the four winds around the interior of the Compact, which took a good twenty minutes to try to recover (couldn't leave half a batsuit just laying in the backseat, after all), making her late to class.
She ended up wearing not one, but two jumbo lattes from the campus diner after two repeat max level dork performances, leaving her not only mildly damp but uncomfortable, and smelling like the bullpen of the GCPD, however grateful to be unharmed, and thankful she wore so many layers, however highly under caffeinated.
Steph also dropped her sandwich the very second she unwrapped it.
She emailed her essays to the wrong professors, which was easily fixed, but embarrassing enough to make her want to curl up under her desk and die. Again.

"Hey, Freakazoid. Your phone. It's been ringing for the last five minutes…"

Jordanna lightly taps Steph on her shoulder, jolting her from her semi dozing state, glazed eyes fixed on a point out the library windows. Straightening up, rubbing the bridge of her nose with two fingers under the glasses she didn't actually need but occasionally wore to focus, or on jobs as Constance, she lazily reached for the face down, buzzing, perma-silent phone.
Gazing at the screen, and seeing [Calling: Eye in the Sky] she sighed slowly, got up, and answered the phone, wandering a little bit away, waving a 'one minute' motion to Jordanna.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
"About time you picked up."

As soon as the phone was to her ear. Sighing, Steph pulled her sticky shirts away from herself for the umpteeth time.

"I'm at school, Babs, what is it?"

"Aaron Black escaped Blackgate half an hour ago."


Stephanie was already moving back to pack up her stuff, Jordanna looking on in confusion.

"B didn't want me to tell you, but-"

"Yeah, of course he didn't. I’ll be out in ten. You think A.P Gordon can cover for me?"

"Go, I got you."

Steph hung up, moving out of the library at speed, leaving Jordanna behind, confused.

True to her word, Batgirl was out and on the prowl for Cluemaster, hitting his old haunts, old buddies, old everything, she paused, hit with a realisation. Heading home, as quickly as she could, she climbed through her bedroom window, to see Cluemaster already restrained on the floor, unconscious, she noted, with the Bat standing over him.

"You took your time."

"I didn't think he'd be stupid enough to try the house…"

"He wants to hurt you, of course he'd be here, to get you, either through your mother, or directly."

"Yeah, well, lucky he didn't know the schedules, I guess. Moms on days this quarter."

Steph was too tired to even be angry at her father. Flopping to sit on her bed, pulling the cowl from her head, she sighed slowly, the unmoving gaze of the Bat on her.

"You're off patrol tonight. You're in no shape for anything."

"Yeah, ok Boomer..."

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

11/09/2019 04:29 PM 

[Meetings: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Meetingswww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Smoothing the legs of her pants for what felt like the millionth time, Steph tucked her hair behind her ear, glanced up to the wing mirror, scowled, and untucked it again quickly. This pattern had been happening for roughly the last five minutes, while they sat in the Compact, waiting at the park for Lea and her mother, Mrs Jacobs to arrive.
Shifting to adjust the collar of her jacket now, Tim lightly grabbed one of her wrists from the passenger seat.

"For the last time, Steph. You look great. Calm down. Take a breath. Relax."

Shooting him a look they both knew meant that there was no way in hell she was even capable of relaxing, she shifted her gaze to his hand, put her free hand on his, squeezing lightly, turning to face the park again, before shifting from her slightly stiff, however leaning back posture to bolt upright, as she spotted a small blonde girl in a costume she had become very familiar with since being sent the first letter running into the park, cape flapping behind her.
Lea's Robin costume.

"Oh my god. That's her. Tim. That's her. Oh this is happening. This is actually happening. Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod."

"Hey, look at me…"

Almost reluctantly turning her head to face him, frowning slightly, Tim gently cupped her cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

"You've fought Superboy, taken on mind controlled Birds of Prey and routinely tell Batman where to shove it. You got this. Go talk to your daughter."

Pressing his lips to her forehead, she let out a nervous, reflexive chuckle, and pushed open the door, to notice that Lea, and her mother, Mrs Jacobs, a woman in her mid to late thirties, in a very nice sweater and slacks had spotted the very conspicuous purple Mini Cooper, Lea pointing at it.

"Hold up a sec. Don't forget the goodie bag…"

Tim leant into the back, and passed out a multicolored gift bag from the back seat. With an appreciative smile, Steph frowned slightly, tilting her head.

"You're not joining us?"

"You want me to?"

"Duh! I asked you to come for a reason! Get out of the car, nerd!"

"Geez, settle down, I thought I was just moral support…"

As they began crossing the park, Lea bolting to meet them halfway, Steph shook her head.

"You're in this just as much as me. It seems right…"

Tim didn't respond, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket, as the small blonde collided with mostly leg, wrapping arms around and squeezing. Stephanie froze up, looking first to Tim, who shrugged a shoulder, looking just as confused as Steph felt, then to Mrs Jacobs, who nodded faintly. Steph took that as clearance to crouch and gently hug the girl, her girl, her daughter.
Squeezing her eyes shut and swallowing, she did what she does best; stamped down on her own emotions for now, and smiled, clearing her throat before speaking.

"Hey, kiddo! That costume looks better in person!"

With an excited giggle, Lea broke away to excitedly twirl, flaring the skirt and cape, before striking a superhero pose, her hands on her hips, shoulders back, as Steph sank back on her haunches, years of rooftop stake outs coming into play, to watch.

"I just wanna dress up like Robin now. I don't want to be Robin anymore. After your letter, me and Mommy looked up the news on the internet about Robin and you were right! It is really dangerous!"

Lea scooted in close, shooting a glance back to Mrs Jacobs, then up to Tim, before whispering.

"Is the Robin that was there for me being born ok though? You said it was our secret…"

Resisting the urge to start laughing, Steph put on a very serious face, and nodded once, before whispering back.

"He's just fine. There's actually something in here from him…"

Steph help up the bag, to which Lea clapped excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Steph slowly straightened up, looking at Mrs Jacobs, with a quick, concerned frown.

"As long as you don't mind, that is."

"No, that's alright."

"Ok, let's find a bench or something so you can sit and see it all…"

Steph began, and Lea was off like a shot, looking for a park bench, or a picnic bench to sit at.

"I didn't think that trait would be genetic…"

Tim mutters from beside her with a faint smile, Steph reflexively swatting his arm with the back of her hand as she watched the tiny mass of blonde, black and purple running around. After a second she frowned and clapped her hand to the side of her face.

"I am so sorry, I haven't meant to be rude. Hi, Mrs Jacobs, I'm Stephanie, thank you so much for letting this happen… this is Tim… he's my… It's complicated, a lot of the time, on and off boyfriend since high school, and he took me to birthing classes so it just felt right to-"

"You're nervous babbling, babe… Hi, I'm Tim, nice to meet you. She's really grateful, and very nervous-"

"Oh god so nervous…"

Steph laughs as they all move towards the table Lea had found, and was now standing on top of, waving her arms to signal to them.

"So, are you the father, Tim?"

"No, no. I started seeing Steph after they broke up, she found out she was pregnant pretty early in our relationship…"

"And you helped her through it? You were just kids yourself… what, 14?"

"Well, I was 14, he was 13…"

Steph absently pipes up. She had her arm through Tim's, but she hadn't taken her eyes of Lea since she climbed on the table.

"Incredible… you're both so much more well adjusted than I expected. No offence, Stephanie."

After a reflexive laugh from the both of them being called 'well adjusted', Steph shook her head.

"Nono, none taken… trust me, I get it. What kinda person has a kid at 14, right? But I learnt pretty quickly mistakes don't define you. Not that Lea was a mistake. Just-"

Mrs Jacobs nods, smiling.

"I understand. Don't worry. No need for more stress babbles."

Tim barked a laugh.

"Always need for stress babbles from Blondie. Always. Non stop. You should have heard her, all the way here…"

Flushing slightly, Stephanie jabbed a finger into his ribs.

"I'm gonna let it slide today, but you watch it…"

Mrs Jacobs shook her head slightly, smiling at their antics, as they approached the table, slipping in to take a seat, as Lea clapped her hands.

"Steph! Steph! Catch me!"

Before taking a running jump off the table. A 5, almost 6 year girl didn't weigh anywhere near as much as the people she was used to catching from buildings, but those people weren't usually her daughter threatening to smash their head into concrete if she missed. Shoving the gift bag into Tim's arms, and scooting forward to catch Lea against her chest, her entire body behind the smaller blondes, frowning slightly, giving her a light squeeze, before looking back at Tim.

"I understand now… never again…"

Carrying the giggling child to be seated, Tim shaking his head, somewhat amused by Steph getting a taste of her own medicine, setting the bag down in front of them, Lea on Stephs lap, Mrs Jacobs digging through her bag for something.

"You're lucky Stephanie is quick and could catch you, pumpkin. Remember what happened when you did that to me when I wasn't ready for you?"

Lea quieted slightly, nodding, lifting her bangs and turning to look up at Steph.

"6 stitches at the hospital…"

With a shake of her head, Steph smoothed her bangs back down and looked at Tim, who started pulling out plastic figures from the bag, setting them out.

"Whoa! There's so many! But there's more than that?!"

Lea leant forward, snatching up Robin and Batman immediately, Stephanie just resting her chin on the top of her head. She barely even noticed the clicking and movement from off to her side.

"There's so many, Gotham can't keep track. We also brought some stuff from the Bat Spotting Tour. There's a flashlight that's a bat signal, a bunch of stickers, of all everyone's logos, a water bottle, and a bat logo sweatshirt. It's a purple one, with a yellow logo-"

Stephanie cut in.

"Because purple is the best color. And this one would technically be a Batgirl one, but that's fine."

"-Yes. That. It might be a bit big, but it should fit for a little while at least…"

By now Lea was standing, excitedly on Stephs thighs, which was fine. Everything was fine, didn't hurt at all. Shifting to look past her hip, Lea bouncing excitedly, she looked between the two of them, then frowned slightly, leaning down to Steph to whisper.

"Which one is from our friend?"

Steph reached for the sweatshirt, unfolded it, and took a folded envelope from the pocket.

"This one…"

Lea took the envelope and dropped back to a seated position in Stephs lap, ripping it open, as Steph and Tim shared a look, before Tim slowly started putting everything away again.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
You're growing up so fast!
It seems like only yesterday you were just a baby, swaddled and in the hospital.
I remember your little fingers gripping mine.
We will keep an eye on you. Keep you safe. For Steph.
-Red Robin.

Lea gasped and threw the Batman toy back into the bag, snatching at the Red Robin one before Tim could put it away. Looking up at Stephanie, Lea pointed at the note, whispering.

"Really?! Ours is still heroing?!"

With a nod, and amused laugh, Steph confirms.

"Yeah. But secrets, ok?"

Mrs Jacobs cleared her throat to get their attention.

"Well, it's only fair that you give Stephanie your gift for her now, don't you think?"


Lea scrambled over the table to her mother, and took the lovely black leather book she had been hiding under the table.

"This is for you! When the pie we got came back and told us all about you, and told you you were a good person, we wanted to share with you!"

"She means P.I…."

Mrs Jacobs smiled fondly at Lea, as she held the book out with both hands, Stephanie taking it almost cautiously.

"Well, thank you…"

"Oh, that reminds me. I wanted to ask. That private eye you hired did an amazing job, tracking down the parent on the birth certificate of a closed adoption, would you mind if I got their name? We might have some cases for them at work…"

Tim, ever the detective, was always asking questions, while Steph was too busy flicking through what she now knew was a photo album, with from adoption date, through to today, literally this day, a Polaroid of them sitting at the bench, Stephs chin on Lea's head, Tim gesturing animatedly as he spoke to them.
Looking up in surprise, Mrs Jacobs raised the Polaroid camera from her bag with a smile and turned her attention to Tim's question.

"Oh, it was, something Malone… I've got his card here still if you'd like it…"

Hearing 'Malone' Steph and Tim both exchange a glance, and Tim nodded, giving his most well practiced business smile.

"Yes, please. If you wouldn't mind."

Digging through her bag again for a moment, while Lea pointed out different pictures to Steph, Mrs Jacobs handed over the card, which Tim glanced at, before pocketing.

"Thank you…"

The rest of the afternoon was spent by Stephanie chasing around the smaller blonde, while the two distinctly more mature people sat and chatted idly, until Steph shuffled back over, carrying Lea, her head against her shoulder, yellow cape in hand.

"I think she's tuckered out…"

She grinned almost sheepishly, as Mrs Jacobs looked almost surprised.

"Well I'll be. Nap time was never a thing around our house. Just too much energy. What did you do?!"

"I played Superman with her. Superman flies at super speed, so you gotta go super fast, after all. I didn't do nap time either… I still don't sleep a whole lot… do you wanna-"

"Oh no, please, bring her to the car for me, I have a feeling there'd be a tantrum if I tried to take her from you now…"

With a small smile to Tim, who followed along behind to the blue sedan, Stephanie carefully ducked both herself and Lea in to set her in the back seat, slowly snapping the seatbelt in place, and draping the yellow length of fabric over her as a blanket, smiling gently.


Lea gently grabbed her sleeve. Steph stopped moving.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"You'll come visit again, right?"

Gently smoothing her messed up hair, she smiled softly.

"Of course…"

With that, Lea let go, nodding herself back into dozing. Gently shutting the door, Steph stood back, as Mrs Jacobs handed her a slip of paper.

"Here. My number, and the house number. You're welcome any time. You've been great. Both of you. She would have been fine with you."

She looked between the two of them pointedly, Steph frowning slightly and shaking her head reflexively, Tim slipping his arm around Stephs waist, knowing what she was thinking, them having had this conversation at least a dozen times before.
Waving goodbye as she slowly pulled away, Steph turned on her heels, taking the photo album from Tim and beelining to the Compact, slipping into the passenger side, and flipping to the last page, busting into the happy tears she had been stamping down the entire time.
Slipping into the drivers seat, and starting their dive back to Gotham, Tim took up Stephs hand, squeezing it gently.

"That went better than expected…"

"Oh, it did… But I'm murdering Bruce…"

Steph sniffles, with a sob of a laugh, with a nod in agreement from Tim.

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

11/01/2019 08:23 PM 

[Spook Night Patrol: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Spook Night Patrolwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
She didn't, strictly speaking, lie to her friends about her plans for Halloween night.
Her mermaid costume had its work out already, with a party she forced on the family earlier in the month, and her night was going to be spent doing 'family' stuff.
Which just so happened to mean patrol.
But Steph loved patrol on Halloween.
You'd think the rogues would be worse, but she always found them to lay low, probably because the Bat had gotten a little more… aggressive? with the kiddlywinks out and about.
More protective.
Steph got that. She did it too. Which is partially why she loved patrol so much on spook night.
She may or may not have blown money she didn't exactly have on a bunch of candy, but by God, Batgirl was gonna be a candy fairy tonight.
But first, she had to make sure the Brown house left the offerings for the neighborhood kids while the house was empty.
On the stoop, next to the Jack-o-lantern she found time to carve, a plastic bowl, with a note taped to it: 'Have a good night!'
No 'Take one', no 'please share', Steph knew kids well enough to know that they should.
And if they didn't, well.
Not much she could do about it.
Batgirl couldn't be everywhere.
"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
The energy in Gotham on Halloween was always something that had to be felt for oneself. People were usually tense about something. The next 'big thing', when something crazy would happen, but on this night, they were the 'crazy ones' in masks, the nervous energy turned to excitement, a buzz that filled the air, and Steph lived for it.
Sure, she could just not patrol, and go off, join the parties, enjoy the relatively maintained chaos, but, well, she enjoyed what she did. Being there, just in case, traveling across the city and seeing all the costumes, all the setups, and being the candy fairy.
Group of kids not getting a response at a door or a building she was on? Batgirl would drop them some candy.
Guy crying on a stoop about his stupid boyfriend in the party? Have some candy, and a cape to cry into for a few minutes. (It wasn't like patrol was busy, after all)
Girl throwing up in an alley from partying a little too hard? Maybe some of this candy was mint? Let me hold your hair, you're gonna be sick again, I can see it, it's gonna be ok. Let it out. Watch your shoes.
The music from the different parties was always great, saved O, Proxy and anyone else that would have been on comms from dealing with Radio Batgirl, she may or may not have been spotted dancing on rooftops throughout the night.
By the time the sun was rising, and Gotham was winding down, settling into November first, Batgirl sat and watched the parade of people returning home, sipping her coffee exchanged for the last of her candy bars in her belt in the Starbucks (not that Bats needed to pay for coffee, but she wanted to give the poor doll with the cute pumpkin headband missing out on the festivities something for the night) taking in the last few moments of peace before the insanity that Thanksgiving and Christmas season brought Gotham.
"I'm almost fifty percent sure nothing could go wrong."Stephanie Brownwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight

10/29/2019 09:34 PM 

[Haunted House: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Haunted Housewww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
"Hey, Freakazoid."

Steph looked up from her pile of notes, pen in hand, in time to see Jordanna let go of the empty water bottle, followed by Francisco, and Michael.
The gang's all here, apparently.
Catching it with a raised brow, she sat it down neatly next to where her paper coffee cup sat, before taking the coffee to her lips.

"What's up?"

Frowning at her 'prank' being foiled by reaction times, Jordanna leant over Stephs notes, glancing down at them.

"You need a break. They turned the dorms into a haunted house, you're coming with us. I'm not taking no for an answer, Brown."

Sighing into her mostly empty coffee, Stephanie looked between the boys, silently reading their faces, then back to Jordanna, before stacking her notes and starting to put them away.

"One, you should accept people saying no, Jor. Two, these two are scared to, and you want more back up, is what I'm hearing."

With the silence that hung between then all, Steph shook her head slightly, grinning to herself, getting to her feet.

"Alright, alright, let's go…"

"Wait, really?!"

Jordanna seemed genuinely surprised. Steph simply nodded her head, and shifted her book bag to her shoulder, catching the appreciative glance shared between Michael and Francisco. Clapping them both on the shoulders as she started to lead them from her once secluded study corner of the campus diner, she nudged Jordanna.

"I didn't take you for a scardy cat, Jor."

"I'm not scared! I just-"

"It's alright to be scared, Jordanna. I don't like haunted houses much, if I'm being honest.

"So why did you agree…?"

By now, the girls had gotten a little ways ahead of the boys.

"Other than you not taking no for an answer?"

She raised a brow, deadpanning Jordanna, who shoved her in response.

"I'm being serious."

Stephanie shrugged a shoulder, tucking her hands into her pockets.

"I really did need a break. And I wouldn't mind seeing what people consider scary now."

Jordanna eyed her curiously as the boys jogged to catch up, Michael draping an arm over them both.

"Ok, but, enquiring minds need to know, ladies, what are the plans for Halloween."

Jordanna acts first, shoving his arm off with a huff, reflexively moving towards Francisco.

"Probably the harvest festival, like usual. And Old Lady Brown there will probably stay in and study, like she has been doing every time I call her."

Steph's elbow caught Michael in the ribs, but she didn't miss a beat otherwise.

"I love Halloween. The costumes, the parties, everyone getting to be someone else for a night? Greatest time of the year. I've got my costume ready, and a family thing to go to."

She was hit with two questions simultaneously; Michael and Francisco

"What costume?"

"When you say family, you mean boyfriends family right?"

"A mermaid, and yes. Assume whenever I say family, it means the Wayne's, alright?"

Jordanna swats Steph on the arm.

"About time you came out and said it. When are we invited?!"

Steph instead pushed into the dorm building, which was all done up, actually quite well, for Halloween.

"Oh hey look, how spooky, we're here!"


"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Jordanna scowled at her as she lead them through the first set of rooms, but as the first 'scare actor' jumped out, and made three of the four yelp in fright, the brushed off question forgotten.
Steph continued leading them through the halls and done up rooms, each with a different theme, zombies, mummies, vampires, generic monsters, all eliciting an eyeroll from Stephanie, who had, at some point or another, had a run in with most of the beings, for realsies.
The life of a Bat was weird sometimes.
The higher through the dorm they went, the less hokey, less juvenile, the 'scare rooms' got, some even done up like in the theme of some of the Gotham Rogues.
Looking into the Scarecrow room, and the others made disgusted sounded, Steph spoke up brightly, looking over her shoulder, offering her other arm to Jordanna for the umpteenth time, after 'Doctor Crane' jumped out at them, to get feeling back in her hand for a bit.

"You know he went to this school? Some of his notes might still be around here somewhere…"

Francisco blanched.

"Don't even joke. That's not funny, Steph."

"I never joke. I'm not a funny person…"

She says as flatly as possible, trying to stifle a grin.
Backing out of the room, 'Scarecrow' cackling behind them, she lead them to the next room, one with a black skull mask on the door. Her stomach immediately dropped, but she pushed on. Slowly turning the door handle, she then nudged the door open with a finger, and tightened her jaw.
Stephanie Brown wasn't an idiot, contrary to popular belief, and her gut instinct was usually on the money.
This 'fear room display' was indeed Black Mask, complete with fear actors, 'Roman', and victim, being tortured.

"That's just messed up…"

Michael says from behind her, as Steph has to remind herself where she is. That she wasn't the one on the table. That it wasn't really him.

"That's what Black Mask does. You should see what he does with a power drill..."

She mutters, trailing off, shutting the door with more force than she intended, before leading them back to finish the house, focusing on Jordannas nails in her arm.
It took a few rooms for Steph to realise her shoulders were still tensed.
By the time they were back down to the goofy scares, with Corpse Brides, and sheet ghosts with glasses, Steph had eased up, mostly.
Back outside in the brisk, fall air, the others flushed, adrenaline filled, giggling messes, she smiled faintly at them.

"Have fun?"

Jordanna grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

"How messed up did your dad make you?! You didn't even jump once!"

Francisco ran his hands through his hair and laughed nervously.

"I wish I was that stoic! That's so cool. You don't get scared at all?"

"Oh, no, I get scared. I get scared a lot. Stuff in there spooked me. I just learnt a long time ago to not react to it. Because-"

"Because your dad messed you up!"

Jordanna shook her again, causing her to finally crack a grin, letting the shaking throw her around exaggeratedly.

"Something like that."

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

10/14/2019 12:09 PM 

[Unsinkable: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Unsinkablewww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Steph didn't spend a lot of time in the Batcave these days.
She didn't need to, what with the Firewall.
But the cave also made her feel… inadequate.
She sees the cases, everyone else's case, and is reminded that she's just reserve grade.
Not real Bat Family.

'You have to retire, be murdered, become someone else, or be shot to have a case'

That was what Babs said when Stephanie was looking at the cases - at the suits in the cases - when she was trying to establish herself as Batgirl.
But of course she didn't have a case.
Her murder didn't count. Why would it?
She was revived with medicine, and skill, not mysticism.
She recovered with time, and pain, not a dip in a pit that cured all her issues, and brought her out stronger.
No, no, of course it didn't count.
Just like her being Robin.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
That never counted either. She knew it. They all knew it. Give it enough time, and she wouldn't count as Batgirl either. And Spoiler? Pssh. Who the heck is that?
Cluemasters kid? Who's that? Sounds like a Riddler wannabe. She had already heard it all. She grew up with it.
Spoiler never counted. So why would Spoiler have a case when she moved on to bigger and better things.
The times she had been shot didn't count for a case either. Why would they? She could still walk, after all. And even if she couldn't, it would only be Steph.
What would they be losing?
Nothing they didn't immediately move on from once before anyway.
No. No, she will stay over here. In the nice, brightly lit Firewall, where her inadequacies can eat her up inside, without physical representations, thank you very much.
At least over here she could try to focus, to clear her head, to work on what mattered.
They might not have always considered Batfamily, but while she had a cape, the city did. And Gotham was what mattered.
You don't give up on her, she won't give up on you, as Nell told her. Words that truly stuck with her.
She may not have been a real Robin, or even a very good Batgirl, but she had learnt how to be a pretty damn good Stephanie Brown.
And that meant something to her, damnit.
"I'm almost fifty percent sure nothing could go wrong."Stephanie Brownwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight

10/14/2019 06:01 PM 

[Benny and the Jets: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Benny and the Jetswww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
It had been calling to her for weeks. No. Months now.
The damned ivory toothed menace, sitting in one of the ballrooms.
They were going to do this dance again.
She had felt the itch to play again creeping up on her for a while now, her fingers absently pressing non existent keys, her feet pressing down pedals that weren't there when ever she sat still for too long.
But this time.
Oh this time, she had a plan of attack.
Waiting for the perfect moment to strike, making sure the manor was clear of all occupants, that the likelihood of a repeat of last time wasn't going to happen, she slowly slipped across to the bench.
Playing a few scales, grinning to herself, she stopped, listened, waited.
So fair, so good.
No sneaky butlers.
"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Last time, Stephanie didn't know what she was going to play. She struggled to remember anything. But this time she had spent the last several weeks learning a song by ear. It was in her head. She was ready for this. It was her time.
Her time for herself.
On top of her moment to play again, she was going to let loose and sing.
And not her purposely annoy everyone on patrol singing either.

"Hey kids, shake it loose together
The spotlight's hitting something
That's been known to change the weather
We'll kill the fatted calf tonight
So stick around~"

As she sung and played for herself, swaying in time to the beat, her voice travelling through a not as quite as empty as she would have hoped manor.
Letting the last note linger she hung her head back, a smile on her lips, pleased with herself.
That was, until, the polite applause started, causing her to leap to her feet, knocking the stool over, and whirl around to face Alfred.
Of course it was Alfred.


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

10/04/2019 12:53 PM 

[TBT: First Piece. Ever.]

attention: | mentions: TBT: First Steph Piece. Ever.www.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Many things roamed Gotham’s streets in the darkness, this night was no different. Crouched low on the corner of a roof, she wondered, not for the first time, if maybe she picked a bad colour to wear.
Before she could even begin that conversation with herself, she saw him. Yellow cape, red chest, green gloves, she giggled to herself slightly.

‘And I picked a bad costume….’

She thought, watching the young detective. He had followed her clues to her father's new base. She had hoped the Dark Knight would come himself, but ‘the Cluemaster’ was probably low on his list. A minor annoyance. What with the big ones still running around.
Watching Robin, she decided it was good that he was there. At least someone was going to stop him.
Shifting slightly, rubbing her foot to stop the pins and needles that had been forming, she wondered how long she had been squatting there. An hour? Maybe two? Hard to tell.
While she was adjusting her footing, Robin had slipped into the building, dragged Cluemaster out by his collar and down the alley towards where he always ended up. The police station.
Standing up and stretching herself to her 5 foot, 5 inch height she raised her arms over her head and let out a soft groan.

‘I wonder what excuse for not being home in the morning I’ll get this time…’

She thought to herself.
Her father, the criminal.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Shaking her head, she started towards the fire escape when she heard a voice.

“Do you spend all your time of roofs?”

Jumping slightly, she whirled around, finding Robin standing on the other side of the roof. Blushing furiously, she mentally congratulated herself for having her hood up, then quickly got angry at herself. How did he know she was there? And better yet, how did her creep up on her.

“Come on Spoiler, we know how this works. You leave clues to Cluemaster, someone follows them, he gets stopped, you slip away…”

He grinned, and she blushed deeper.

‘Damn him. Being so… Cute… Focus!’

She snapped at herself, then cleared her throat and tried to sound casual.

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to make sure you did the job…”

‘That's great Stephanie, sound like a bitch. That will totally help you…’

She clenched her jaw at herself under the hood, balling her gloved hands up. Seeing her fists tighten, Robin raised his hands

“Easy, not gonna fight you. I was…”

He stops, scratching the back of his head


He sighs

“You can’t do this. You’ll get yourself hurt, or killed…. No one wants that…”

His voice was soft, and Spoiler frowned a hidden frown.

“You do it.”

She says softly, causing Robin to shake his head

“I have the training… I’ve seen how you get around Spoiler… You don’t… What if someone wanted to hurt you. You couldn’t stop them….”

She tilted her head slightly. Was he worried about her? Just last month after leaving the clues to her father he called her a nuisance. But this? Was this concern?
Taking several steps over to her, Robin stopped again, as if torn by something. Before he could say anything, she spoke.

“Maybe you could train me…?”

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

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