[𝚄𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍]

Last Login:
October 22nd, 2020

Gender: Female

Age: 20
Country: United States

Signup Date:
August 14, 2018


08/22/2019 06:46 PM 

[Sunrise: Drabble]

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

08/18/2019 09:56 PM 

[A 'Typical' Night: Drabble]

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

"Jor? Everything alright?"

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

"You're gonna make fun of me…"

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

"I highly doubt that. What's wrong…?"

A sharp exhale, and Jordanna spoke rapidly.

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

Steph narrowed her eyes, chewing at the end of the pen absently.

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

The response was swift.

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

Snorting a laugh, Steph shook her head slightly.

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

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

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

"Sorry, are you waiting for me?"

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

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

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

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

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

"What makes you such an expert, huh?"

Michael fires back, the last to sit, Jordanna glancing between them nervously.

"I like to keep fit."

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She rolled her eyes, downplaying the fact he kept his identity off the Bats radar until she handed it to him, or how many people he killed, before being taken down by his fourteen year old daughter. Clearing her throat and shaking her head slightly before laughing softly, trying to lighten the mood, as Michael looked uncomfortable.

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

'Sure, it's the boyfriend that's stopping them. Not the fact you can kick the crap out of them.'

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

"You have been dropping clues!"

In a strangled, almost wounded voice, she yelps in response, recoiling in disgust at the thought of inadvertently leaving clues.

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

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

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

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

08/12/2019 09:26 PM 

[Sanctuary Session: Drabble]

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

“I am Batgirl. But not the first one. Like, the third, or fourth, or fifth one, depending on who you ask. No one remembers it, and, as much as I give them 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.
Answering the call, Steph spoke wearily.


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.


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

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.


"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.”


"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.


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

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