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September 24th, 2020




Gender: Female

Age: 20
Country: United States

Signup Date:
August 14, 2018


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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 hell for it, I don’t think it ever really counted, I was Robin, for a little bit. Seventy-two 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 really 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 was 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 that 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 made fun of 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, an alien 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 in a swanky high rise apartment by day, 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 herself, 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, one of the Batgirls.
"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 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 Mom? 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

06/07/2019 11:25 PM 

[Why Do It?:Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Why Do It?www.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
“Stephanie?”

Raising her eyes from the plate of syrup, the remnants of the breakfast she was now swirling with her fork, Stephanie looked at her mother, who was staring at her expectantly.

“Hm? I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t hear what you said. I was… somewhere else.”

Crystal pursed her lips slightly, and stood.

“I asked if you were finished.”

“Oh, yes, thank you. Sorry.”

Taking the plate, Crystal moved across the kitchen, putting the dishes on top of the others in the sink, before pushing up her sleeves.

“Leave it, Mom, I’ll do them.”

Turning to stare at Steph, she shrugged, and made a ‘be my guest’ motion at the sink, before moving and making coffee, as the younger Brown rolled her eyes and moved to the sink, running hot water onto the dishes. Once the sink had water enough in it for Steph to wash the dishes, she started, dipping her hands into the straight hot water, Crystal watching in concern.

“Steph, honey…”

“It’s fine, Mom. I don’t have a whole lot of feeling in my hands. Relax.”

Seeing this as probably her only opportunity to get Steph to talk about her ‘work’ without a flare up from their differing stances on the costumed life, Crystal took the opening.

“Is that from when you… died?”

“Mostly… I have a lot of nerve damage from that one actually. I have the pictures if you're ever up for it…”

She absently cleaned the plate. Pre-coffee and autonomous work was a good way to get Steph to talk, apparently. Being close to her probably helped.

“... but you know, also punching people in the face all the time probably doesn't help either…”

“Stephanie, why would you have those pictures. Thats ghoulish.”

Crystal gasped, horrified. With a nonchalant shrug, Steph continued.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
“Because sometimes, I have to talk people out of trying to do the ‘dress up and try to be a hero thing’ too, and a tortured to death teenage girl does that pretty quick. They don’t need to know Batgirl and Spoiler are the same person.”

A pause. The coffee maker, and Stephs scrubbing the only sounds.

“That makes sense, I suppose… But. With your dad gone, why do you still do it?”

Setting the second plate in the draining rack, she turned to face her mother, frowning slightly, as if thinking.

“Well. Just because our problem is solved doesn’t mean there aren’t others I can’t solve. Do you stop helping a doctor the second your shift is over, or do you stop helping when you're done?”

Crystal Brown, trauma nurse, nodded, following what her daughter was saying.

“This city might seem bleak, and grimy. But I believe in the people in it. People are good. Can do good. Look at… Bruce Wayne. He could be a broody, people hating shut in, after what happened with his parents. But all the charity work, and good he does for the city. He believes in it. And adopting a small army of bad luck boffins, just like him? Basically, Mom? You don’t give up on Gotham, and it won’t give up on you.”

“You always do try to look for the good, don’t you, Steph?”

“It’s that or I’m angry about everything. That’s what I got going for me. Sickening positivity or righteous fury. Is that coffee ready yet? I got like, twelve minutes of sleep last night.”

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

06/07/2019 10:02 PM 

[CIA: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: CIAwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Perched next to one of the hundreds of snarling stone guardians that stood watch over the city, wind gusts caught between the buildings whipping the blonde hair and cape around her frame.
The patrol had been quiet tonight, which, for once, she was ok with, because she wasn't exactly in the mood to do her job with this suit tailing her.
He thought he was slick, but she noticed him hours ago. Slowly straightening up, she knew she could easily lose the suit. Slip his tracking easily. But she wanted to know what he wanted.
Moving up on top of the building, she easily disguised herself in the shadows, slipping around to ground, and behind the Suit, and his car, squinting through some night vision binoculars.
With a knuckle, Stephanie rapped on the window next to his head, leaning down to look in at him, grinning broadly, causing him to jump a mile.

"Can I help you, sir?"

After taking a minute to recover, he rolled the window down, and looked at her.

"Uh… Batgirl? I'm uh, Agent Williams, with the CIA."

"You must be new. You're not very good at tailing or surveillance, Agent. I had you clocked about five minutes after I started patrol."

"Well, I usually handle recruitment, not surveillance."

Frowning slightly, the Batgirl raises a brow skeptically.

"Recruitment. For the CIA. Me? You don't even know who I am."

"Actually. You're the only Bat we do know. Get in and we'll have this talk."

Reflexively, she responded.

"My father always said to never get in cars with strangers. Show me some ID first, buddy."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he shifted to the side, reaching for his ID, then handing it to her. Scrutinising it, and handing it back when satisfied, the blonde moved around to the passenger side door, checked the child look wasn't on, then got in.

"Arthur Brown would have never said that to you, Stephanie…"

Agent Williams says, as his window rolls back up, Stephanie blinking once.

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb. Spoiler, then there's a blonde Robin. Then the blonde Robin or Spoiler, whatever was going on at the time 'dies', the exclusive story with Aaron Black about Stephanie Brown, the Spoiler, Robin, airs, talking about it. Then a year later. Spoiler is back in Gotham? And a blonde Batgirl with purple on her suit pops up not long after? And Stephanie Brown is miraculously back from the dead and in college?"

Steph, wondering why it had taken someone this long to actually connect the dots, tilts her head.

"Even if that was the case, why would you want to recruit a nineteen year old girl?"

The silence in the car was palpable for the beat it hung in the air.

"Why wouldn't we?! You're trained by Batman! You have so much to teach us."

Tilting her head and squinting slightly, she frowned, before shaking her head.

"You know what. Sure. Screw it. Why not. I’ll play this game. You’ll want me to jump through some hoops, right?”

“There’s physicals, and some basic exams, which I’m sure you’ll ace.”

Snorting dismissively, she shook her head and leant back in the seat, before speaking into her comms.

“Apparently I’m heading on a road trip. No need to panic, or to send in Hunk Wonder or Broody-boots or whatever, everythings cool. Not a Roman situation.”

Looking to the driver, she folded her arms and nodded, before grinning slyly.

“For your wellbeing more than mine. It wouldn’t be my bones getting broken in the misunderstanding, after all.”

“R-Right….”

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
It wasn’t that much of a drive.
Did you know Gotham had an field office for the CIA? Because Stephanie sure didn’t. Being lead inside by Williams, as he went through the metal detector, she laughed bitterly.

“Oh, fellas. If you think I’m taking off, or handing over any of my belts to any of you, you’re in for a bad time. This thing is gonna go off. And I’m not stopping.”

The stationed security looked from the Batgirl, to the Agent with her, back to her, then waved her through, wincing at the shrill beeping.
It was still sounding as they moved down the hall, to the elevators. Pressing the call button for down, Steph carefully assessed her exits, just in case.

“So… Tests huh? I really don’t like written exams, so I hope it’s multiple choice.”

She says absently, causing Williams to crack a smile.

“They’re actually all physical based. The higher ups from Washington don’t believe that one of the Robins would be an asset to us.”

Stepping into the elevator as it arrived, Steph folded her arms across her chest again.

“I guess that makes sense. And I’m the one that can be found… Hate to burst your bubble there, chief, but uh, I’m considered one of the failed Robins around the cave. So let’s hope this goes your way. This was your idea after all, wasn’t it? Since you were sent out to get me…”

“....For a ‘failed Robin’ you're still better than half the recruits we have by the time they graduate. And you’re nineteen.”

She pulls a face, something between discomfort, and disgust.

“It’s nothing special. Hang around the World’s Greatest Detective long enough, you pick up a thing or two.”

“There might be one test you could have a problem with though, speaking of Batman. Firearms…”

The corner of her lips twitch upwards for a split second, and she says nothing, and the elevator doors slide open, to a sublevel, to a room full of men and women of various shapes and sizes in fighting stances.
Steph tilts her head.

“Lemme guess. Test one. How fast can this lot be neutralized?”

A murmur of confirmation from Williams, as they both step from the elevator.
She almost felt bad for them. She was sure they didn’t know it was a Bat coming for them. She didn’t change her tune just because there were suits watching. Her chaotic dance was still in play. The taunting, the quipping, the playing with them. She could have dealt with them all much sooner. She knew it. They knew it. The Suits knew it. It changed nothing.
Stepping away unscathed, she smoothed her cape dramatically.

“Next.”

A roller shutter rose, revealing a set of targets at different intervals. Grinning slowly, she walked to the mark, as Williams moved to her side, with a handgun case.

“We don’t know if-”

“Buddy. Have you seen what we use to get around the city?”

“A grapple gu-oh. Right. Yes.”

“The rule is don’t use guns, not can’t use guns.”

Fitting the clip into the grip, making sure the slide was clear, Steph fired three shots, before dismantling the gun, faster than Williams even opened the case and gave it to her.

“That should answer that one, right?”

With the targets reeled in, the shots proved true, dead center of the forehead.
Three men, and a woman in a sharp pantsuit made themselves known to Batgirl and Williams. The woman was the one to speak.

“It would seem Agent Williams isn’t a crazy cape fanboy after all. That was quite something, Batgirl.”

Frowning, Steph folded her arms across her chest.

“That was it? That was the tests? I expected running miles, and torture.”

“We understand that you can already handle those things, or else we would all know who the Batman is by now.”

With a noncommittal grunt in response, Steph let out a sigh.

“Well. This was… Something. I might consider this as an option if the Bat ever fires me again. But I don’t do real well with taking orders. And you look like you're about to start trying to give me orders. I’m gonna have to pass.”

“Oh, you can’t just walk out of here, Miss Brown.”

“Sure I can. Me just walking in here in my suit gave Oracle remote access to all the systems. Oracle has everything now. Can’t blackmail me. I’ll blackmail you. Later, Gators.”

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

04/19/2019 08:36 PM 

[Comfort Food: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Comfort Foodwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Everyone had a go to comfort food.
Something to eat when they weren't feeling well, or were feeling down.
For Stephanie Brown, that was mashed potatoes.
A little bit basic? Maybe.
But she was a simple girl, really, and she could get mashed potatoes anywhere. Dehydrated mashed potatoes were always stashed in the pantry at home, just in case. Diners always had mash. It was never not available. If she ever wanted it, it was there.
Instant comfort. Right in her stomach.
And right now, she could use some.
It wasn't a good day for Steph.
She didn't go home last night after patrol. She had several missed calls on her phone, not just from her mother. But she just couldn't be there right now. Not today. She would try to explain later.
Standing outside Dr Thompkins clinic, hands deep in her pockets, staring at the scuffed toes of her sneakers, she heard Leslie coming, only raising her head when she was in front of her.

"How you doing, Steph?"

"Oh, you know. Alive."

She says flatly, smiling wryly, as Leslie scowls at her, letting out a sigh.

"Joking about it should mean progress, but with you, I feel like it's repression."

"Leslie, unless I'm screaming in someone's face about something, it's always repression… let's get food. I need my potatoes…"

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
Slipping into the booth at the diner, and ordering french toast and coffee for Leslie, and a massive plate of mashed potatoes for Stephanie, the blonde looked at the calls on her phone, frowning slightly.

"You know, people care about you, Stephanie-"

She internally flinched at her full name being used. It meant some form of lecture was coming, she could tell.

"-you can let them in on your rituals, and coping mechanisms. I'm sure they know what today is to you. Surely you can't think that little of yourself that you'd think they'd forget. At least Alfred is aware of what today is. What do you think he's going to do? Make it harder for you?"p> Stephanie stopped to give a small smile to the waitress as her potatoes arrived, starting to poke at them.

"Well, I don't expect a Happy Death Day cake, if that's what you mean…"

Before shovelling a forkful of the starchy goodness into her mouth.

"I think, knowing your sense of humor, and his, he would do exactly that. Something completely inappropriate, and morbid. Like a lava cake with red food colouring in it. I can hear Bruce tutting at him for it now."

Leslie was slowly scowling as she spoke, Steph, however, started grinning.

"That only works if he covers it with purple marzipan though. And I get to cut it with a scalpel."

"Oh my god, Stephanie Brown. You've hit your head too many times…"

"Nah, I think it might have been the gunshot that did it."

She shrugs nonchalantly, packing in another mouthful of potato.

"WHAT?! When did that happen?! Why did nobody tell me about this?"

Steph started to laugh. Sometimes that was all you could do when things were bad.
Comfort food and laughter.

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

04/02/2019 12:20 PM 

[Study Day: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Study Daywww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Campus cafe.
Not the greatest place, but not the worst. Decent coffee. Got her through the day. After food could have been better.
Tuesday, her off day for the semester, but Steph still left the house, still did daytime human things, lest she throw her entire rhythm out of whack.
She didn't need to pull a Tim and crash somewhere unfortunate, and knowing her, it would likely be mid grapple.
That would be a mess.
Literally. The cafe was quiet this time of day. Perfect for her purpose.
It would have been a surprise to people to know that Stephanie actually studied. Put work into things. Sitting with one leg folded over the other, face set in concentration, one hand bracing the textbook against the edge of the table, the other moving between her pen where she would absently jot down shorthand, Stephanie only decipherable notes, and her coffee mug, she could have been a stock photo graph. The only thing missing were a pair of glasses.
Raising her cup to her lips, she raised her eyes to the commotion on the other side of the cafe. A dark haired female was being very clearly harassed by two guys that followed her from off campus.
Narrowing her eyes slightly, Stephanie realised it wasn't just some brunette, but Jordanna. Setting down her cup, and on her feet before she knew what she was even doing, she was across the cafe quickly.

“Hey, Jordanna, new friends?”

She asked cheerfully, and the look on her Friend-But-Not-Really-Friends face said it all. They were not.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
“Oh hey, this one's cute too.”

The idiot in red spoke first, as Jordanna brushed past them and to Steph, who held out her hand, which was taken, and latched on to like a lifeline, while Steph turned her well practiced deadpan unimpressed stare on them.

“Oooh, I get it now… you two… makes sense why she didn't want either of us…”

Letting out a slow, drawn out sigh, looked behind her to the staff.

“Hey, would you mind calling the police? Maybe an ambulance too? These morons might need one in a minute…”

They had been frozen in shock until that point, unsure what to do. Upon given direction, a quick nodding, movement started. The moron in green began to speak.

“What exactly do you think you're gonna do, Blondie?”

He grabbed her shoulder, while she was still facing the staff, and Jordanna. Looking at Jordanna, she raised a brow slightly, and tilted her head.

“Did he just?”

“... I think he did…”

She responded, looking at the hand on Steph's shoulder. Nodding slowly, she grabbed the pinky finger, and snapped it backwards.
There was a pause. Jordanna gasped. Green shirt screamed. Red shirt screamed. Steph shoved Jordanna backwards about five feet to safety in anticipation for what came next.
Red shirt lunged at her. She considered leapfrogging, but she didn't want to be too Batgirl right now, so she instead sidestepped, grabbed the back of his shirt, and spun him head first into the edge of the table.
He crumpled. Green shirt still held at his hand whimpering. Steph pointed at the ground.

“Sit. And stay there until the police show up.”

And so he did.
Steph actually hung around too, instead of doing her programmed thing of disappearing, and gave a statement to the police, and she made sure Jordanna was ok. She was. You know. For Jordanna.
Letting out a sigh she went back to her seat, her long cold coffee and her lost place in her book, picking it up, trying to find where she left off from.

'Thank you Stephanie.' Oh, no worries Jordanna. It's no big deal…”

She grumbled into the cup, taking a sip of the cold coffee with a sigh.
All in a day's work.

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

04/01/2019 12:51 PM 

[Shenanigans: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: Shenaniganswww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
It had dawned on her that she had been taking this 'Bat Business' far too serious lately.
She had been stalking the city for nights on end, staring at the screen of the infernal Batcomputer unblinking for what felt like hours, being much more Bat and much less Batgirl, so much so that she caught herself glaring at someone for daring to laugh around her.
That just wasn't right.
That was down right messed up.
As much as she respected the great brooding bastard (and she would die again before ever admitting that out loud), she didn't want to BE him. Good god. She still had joy in her soul.
Hell, she still had a SOUL, full stop. Wasn't sure Ol' Broody Boots could say that.
Suiting up, and switching out some of the gear in her pouches, she felt the slow grin creeping across her face.
She almost felt like calling Klarion, to amplify what she was planning, but she quickly shut that idea down, knowing that would turn into something she would have to clean up, involving some sort of monster, likely, instead of harmless chaos.
She sometimes forgot how different the levels of chaos they were on were.
Shaking her head, she hit the city.
It was time for Operation: Steph Was Getting Too Grump Bat, And Needs To Mess Sh*t Up. (It's a working title, ok?)
Stop one was a bunch of thugs in an alleyway, planning on jumping an unsuspecting 'opposing gang member'. (They were like, 16. She highly doubted they were actually involved with any real gangs.)
Clearing her throat loudly from her vantage point on the roof above them, she dropped a handful of her gooparang pods in the middle of them, followed by one of the boobytrapped smoke bombs she had been hoping someone would pick up, which had been conveniently worked around.

GOOP
PAFF

The smoke dissipated, the group stood stuck, held in place by her green rubber cement, coated in glitter.

“Stick around, fellas, ok?”

Grinning down at her handiwork, exaggeratedly chefs kissing, she lept the alleyway, and continued on, for her next target.
Target two was gloriously, Riddler.
Sliding up to the window of his apartment, knocking on it with a knuckle, she waved enthusiastically as he jumped, startled while he was watching what she assumed was some quiz show, because of course he would be. Seeing it was the blonde Batgirl, he glowered at her, and opened his window.

“What do you want, Miss Brown? I can assure you, I've been following the terms of my parole. And I won't be inviting you in, not after the last time.”

Grinning, she sank down to sit on the windowsill, nodding casually.

“Of course not, Eddie, I understand entirely. I was in the wrong. I was trying to come to terms with my father being dead. Which he isn't, by the way. Apparently we Browns don't do dead very well. But I'm here to ask you something.”

She paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing at her, but curiosity getting the better of him, as she knew it would.

“... Go on…”

As earnestly as she could, she tilted her head, she tilted her head, and pouted, looking genuinely wounded.

“Why don't I get invited to dinners?”

There was a pause, he blinked in confusion, shaking his head slightly.

“Wh-I?”

“Is it because I'm a supper hero?”

She starts breaking into a grin, watching the confusion turn to fury, as she cackles, firing her grapple before she could be pushed out of the window, dropping another glitter filled smoke bomb as she does.

“Be good, Eddie!”

She calls, swinging away.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
She was starting to feel a lot more like herself. There was one more thing left to do. And it had been a long while since she had done anything like it. But this time it was the big time. She needed to make a pit stop first.
Swinging by the Sprang Bridge underpass, where her old friends, her old misfit crew were, she made her Batgirl presence known, holding up a hand as people looked too scatter. For the first time in a very long time, she used her vocal scrambler, before speaking.

“Relax. I'm not here for you lot, you should know that by now. I just want all the purple paint you have.”

After a moment of silence, one spoke up.

“What makes you think we have any paint, let alone purple…?”

Taking a flashlight from her belt pouches, Steph flicked it on, and pointed it directly at a still dripping set of tags, raising a brow.

“I don't have to be the world's greatest detective, Liam. Fork it over.”

Flinching internally at using his name, and seeing the flicker of surprise on his face, she shut off the flashlight, and was surprised by the amount of purple paint that was brought before her. Picking up just a paint can and a brush, she gave a salute. Turning to leave, Liam spoke again.

“Wait. How'd you know my name…?”

“Bats know everything.”

She says quickly, as if it was simple, he nods, frowning slightly.

“Of course. Makes sense. And… thanks, for keeping an eye out for us…”

Half smiling, she turned and left, heading to GCPD HQ.
Hunkering low on the roof, she waited for any officers taking a smoke break to head back indoors before her masterpiece.
She was currently the most active Bat in Gotham, after all… shouldn't the signal represent that?

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

03/28/2019 03:10 PM 

[TBT '16 Physio: Drabble]

attention: | mentions: TBT '16 Physiowww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight
Legs extended in front of her, flat against the table, she had her arms wrapped under her thighs, chest against the top of them. Hands pressed on her shoulder blades lightly and she grunted slightly, a wince threatening to form on her face. Once the hands lifted, she unwrapped herself, and slowly sat up, hands running up her legs to her knees as she pushed on them lightly.

“Good. Good… your flexibility is returning Steph. You’ll be as good as new soon enough.”

Doctor Leslie Thompkins smiled lightly at her. Returning the smile, Stephanie started stretching her arms up over her head, twisting at the waist from side to side slowly.

“Well, I’ve been doing the exercise you set me… they help. Are you sure there’s nothing you can do about the nerve damage? I almost burnt my whole butt off setting a shower the other day… it felt fine to my hand…”

She flexes her right hand a few times, looking at it. Doctor Thompkins lightly took her hand in both hers and ran her fingers over the palm, pressing on the inside of the joints slowly, shaking her head.

“Sorry kiddo… until we get better access to equipment that doesn't get stolen by any two bit thug in Gotham and the medical advancements get approved you’re just going to have to try to be careful.”

Leslie paused for a moment.

“Have you been seeing that other doctor I referred you to?”

Averting her eyes, Stephanie cleared her throat slightly before shaking her head.

“No… I can’t afford the hourly rate, and I don’t wanna ask Mom…”

“What about Br-”

“Absolutely not.”

Steph snaps, lifting her head.

“He doesn’t know about any of this. He doesn’t need to either….”

Putting her hands on her hips, Leslie scowled, disappointment and anger etched on her tired face.

“This is how you got into this mess, Stephanie. Blind worship of the Bat.”

“It’s not like that at all!”

Stephanie stands up, frowning.

“It’s all I’m good at, Leslie. I was bad at school, I can’t even pick a major at college. I’m good at this.”

Leslie softened slightly, putting her hands on Stephanie's shoulders.

“Look. I understand that’s how you feel, but I’m sure it’s not true. I’m sure you’re good at other things…”

Steph shakes her head and drops her gaze.

“I was good at piano…. but…”

She raises her hands and wiggles her fingers slightly, the pinky fingers on both hands hardly moving at all.

“That’s not really possible anymore…”

Sighing Steph broke away, scooping up her bag on the way to the door.

“I’ll see you next week, Doc….”

Opening the door and stepping out, she was gone before Doctor Thompkins could say a word. Now out on the streets of Gotham, Stephanie quickly took in the street, noting changes between her entering her appointment and now, and moved on. She walked the few, long blocks home, entered the building and moved to her floor. Two doors away from her own she stopped to slip off her shoes and tucked them under her arm, knowing her mother still had a few hours of sleep before she was off for the graveyard shift at the hospital. Unlocking the door and sliding in quietly, she gently clicked the door closed, crossed the living room and headed to her bedroom, tucking the back pack under the desk, and slumping onto her bed, stifling a groan into her pillow. It wasn’t long before she was asleep, face turned to the side, her breathing slow and steady.

"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
She was in a dark room, the sound of water dripping couldn’t muffle the sounds of yelling or gunshots she guessed to be a few blocks away. Her arms chained above her head, on some form of piping. She knew bouncing her body weight could break it, but when she last tried, it made so much noise that he came back. That he broke her fingers and shoved a blade into her side. She didn’t want that again. Closing her eyes, her head dropped forward, and she shifted slightly. Every part of her was sore. Her ribs felt broken, from beatings, warm blood slowly ran down her side. Her shoulders felt like they were separating. Her feet blistered and scarred, and she was sure bones were broken. Her fingers. Oh her fingers. She kept trying to move them to stop them from setting in place. Biting down on her lower lip she stifled a scream as best she could, as her fingers moved slightly. The heavy door that was the only way into the room swung open with a loud crashing, and in he walked. White suit and black mask, she stopped moving and raised her eyes to look at him, her face stern.

“Little birdy still won’t sing. We haven’t got any more time to deal with you. I’ll be sure to tell the Bat you never gave his name, even when I killed you…”

He sliced her down from the pipe, and hitting the ground she screamed slightly, curling up with a sob. Pushing her flat into her back with his foot, Black Mask stared down at her, his foot on her chest.

“Night night, Birdy.”

His pistol drawn, he leveled it at her head, and pulled the trigger. Closing her eyes, she was deafened, the bullet making contact with her skull. Snapping awake, Stephanie put her hand to her head, her fingers meeting the raised scar along the top right of her skull, hidden by her hair. Sniffling, she realised she was crying. Moving to the bathroom, her hand still on her scar, she started the water for the shower, and leant on the sink, slowly flexing her toes on the floor. She knew Leslie was right, and she knew she owed her her very life. She was shot in the head, and tortured for almost a week. She was lucky to even be having these nightmares. Undressing she stepped into the shower, and winced slightly at the heat. After a moment of fiddling with the taps, she just held her face under the stream, closing her eyes. It wasn’t long before she heard her mother moving around. Turning off the water Steph cleared her throat slightly and grabbed a towel, before cracking the door open.

“Sorry if I woke you…”

Her mother laughed and moved to the door, patting her cheek.

“Not a problem kiddo… I was getting up anyway. I’ll be off soon, you stay out of trouble, alright? Dinner is in the fridge.”

Steph smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Always, mom. You know me. Never in trouble.”

Listening for her mother to leave she dried, moved to her room and dressed in her Batsuit, slipping out the window. It wasn’t long before she was on a rooftop, joined by the huge form of Batman.

“You’re out early, Batgirl…”

He grumbled, to which she turned and grinned at him.

“You know me, Bats, life of the party… and the party can’t start til I walk in.”

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

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