Gender: Female
Age: 23
Sign:
Virgo
Country: United States
Signup Date:
August 14, 2018
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06/07/2019 11:25 PM
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[Why Do It?:Drabble]
“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 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. “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. Crystal didn't know Arthur was still alive, after all. “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.”
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06/07/2019 10:02 PM
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[CIA: Drabble]
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 reinforcement, 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….” 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 sub level, 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.”
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04/19/2019 08:36 PM
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[Comfort Food: Drabble]
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…" 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?" 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.
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04/02/2019 12:20 PM
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[Study Day: Drabble]
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 photograph. 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. “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, Stephanie 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.
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04/01/2019 12:51 PM
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[Shenanigans: Drabble]
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 Bat girl, 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, Uncle 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, Uncle Eddie!” She calls, swinging away. Steph 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 it was about time for her to pull something big like this. 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... about forever, she used her vocal scrambler. “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?
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03/28/2019 03:10 PM
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[TBT '16 Physio: Drabble]
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. 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.”
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03/18/2019 06:34 PM
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[Trouble: Drabble]
She caved. Steph finally gave in to the invites on the weekend to go out with her college friends, much to Jordanna’s very vocal annoyance at this point. She told them, via the group message she had been added to, that she'd meet them at the club. Jordanna: Don't dress like a freak. I know it's almost unavoidable, but try, alright? We don't need one person bringing us down. Francisco: Jor, rude. Stephanie: Don't worry your pretty little head. I got this. This was the first time, probably ever, Steph had actually put in effort, that wasn't for Bat related business, or didn't involve one of the Wayne events. It was an odd feeling. Going with a pair of skinny jeans, ankle boots, a shimmery black camisole top and red leather jacket (something she actually saved up for and shelled out on for herself, because it was cute, and wasn't something 'borrowed' for once), she took her time with her hair and makeup, actually bothering to do both, which may have been a first for this group to see.
Organising a small bag with the important things, she then set off.
By the time she got to the club, her friends were already inside, gathered around a table. Weaving through the dancing masses, Steph joined them, slipping in next to Jordanna, who looked at Steph, then past her, searching, back to her with a scowl, folding her arms. Frowning quizzically, Steph shakes her head slightly and beams at them. “Howdy friends, sorry I'm a little late, the drive in took a bit longer than I thought.” “No worries! You look great! You should wear red more often!” Grinned Michael, causing Francisco to roll his eyes slightly. “I wore red almost every day for almost two months for a while. I’m good only wearing it occasionally.” Steph responded automatically. Jordanna nudges her in the side. “I need the bathroom. Let's go.” “Oh, sure…” Getting up, Steph waited for Jordanna, hearing Michael mutter as they started to leave “Always gotta go in packs. I will never understand.” Walking across the dance floor with Jordanna, moving slower than she would have usually moved so her brunette companion could keep up in her strappy stiletto heels and spaghetti strap white bodycon mini dress, Steph offered her arm back to Jordanna, to her surprise, actually took it. Reaching the ladies room, Steph pushed open the door and waited for Jordanna to enter, before following. Jordanna folded her arms, and stared at Stephanie, who raised a brow. “....what?” “I thought you'd bring your boyfriend! What kinda girl with a boyfriend doesn't bring them when they go out in Gotham?!” Steph blinked in confusion, before moving out of the doorway, shifting to lean against the sink counter. “He's out of town for work, this isn't exactly his scene. I'm not sure he would have come even if I invited him.” Jordanna moved with her, arms folding. “He's crazy. Don't take this as a complement or think that I like you or anything, because you're still a freak, but if I had a girlfriend that could clean up like you I wouldn't let her out without me. Plus it's just dangerous in Gotham!” Frowning slightly at her, Steph straightened up, sighing heavily. “There's so many things wrong with that sentence, I don't know where to start. He and I have known each other for years, long before we started dating. He trusts me, I trust him. I'm not gonna do anything with any random person while I'm out for a night, Jor. And as for Gotham for being dangerous? That's fine. I grew up with a criminal dad, remember? I know how to take care of myself.” Pausing for a minute, she nodded her head to the stalls behind Jordanna. “Did you actually have to go?” “What? No. I just wanted to talk to you away from the boys. I really just wanna know who he is. I'm starting to think political, which is why it's hush hush. You've got an older man.” Jordanna squints at her. Steph half smiles, offering her arm again, which was taken, as she started to lead Jordanna out again. “You know, I’ll tell you what. You'll meet him one day. For sure. And you're half right. You can figure out which half.” “Why do you keep just toying with me? Why won't you just tell me?!” “Honestly? I've given you enough clues for you to figure it out. If you've been paying attention.” “Why?! Why are you like this?!” Halfway across the dance floor, another voice sounds. “Cris? Is that you?” Stopping, Steph turned her head in the direction of the voice, to see a group of three males moving towards them. She had to think hard for where she would have known them from, before narrowing her eyes slightly, and leant to Jordanna. “So, I'll explain later. Stick close, and put this on.” Shrugging herself out of her jacket and passing it to Jordanna, who frowned in confusion, then seeing the men, who radiated seediness, she quickly pulled it on, pulling it around her, Steph smiling faintly at the one who spoke to her. “What's up, Reggie?” “Crissy Brown, You grew up big. Look at you. We thought maybe you were dead, or had left the city. The Boss missed you….” Looking passed her, to Jordanna, who was now gripping at Steph’s bare arm. “...Who's your friend?” Giving Jordanna’s hand a light squeeze, she shifted slightly, moving more between them and her. “You're sounding mighty creepy, Reg. Clearly I'm not dead. I just quit the business. The Boss got my letter of resignation.” “Huh… People don't just get to quit…” “I did… Now if you don't mind, I'm here to have a good time. Don't start something you won't be able to finish, Reggie. Walk away.” One of the others started to move forward, Steph could see signs that he was high on something. “Start what, there's three of us, and there's two puny girls. We would kill you!” Jordanna's grip tightened, to both hands, Steph rested her hand on hers, giving a light pat again. “Actually, buddy, it would be you three against me, and I'd wipe the floor with you. As for the murdering me thing…” She took a breath and tilted her head back, letting out a shriek, as security had already been watching. Pointing her finger at them as the men in suits came over, she gasped, the crowd gathering around them. “They're threatening us!” Murmurs of agreement, Jordanna nodding as well, as the situation was taken care of.
Leading her back to the table, Jordanna, still clutching at her arm, asks “How are you so calm right now? That was terrifying!” “Sweetie, those guys are the type of people I've dealt with my whole life. It's gonna take more than someone threatening my life to spook me.” “How did he know you… And why was he calling you Crissy?” Letting out a sigh, Steph had to figure out a way to word the answer. “For a while, when I was 16, I.. Did some stuff. Don’t even worry about too much, Jor… The less you know the better.” Jordanna gaped at her, as they returned to the table, sliding back into the seats. While they were gone, the boys had taken the liberty of getting them drinks, Francisco kindly remembering that Steph drove in, getting her a Coke. Looking at them curiously, he frowned slightly. “What was all that about?” Steph sipped at her drink, as Jordanna went to take off the jacket, Steph shook her head. “Give it back to me on Monday. You might need it more than me over the course of the night. Just a hunch.” Jordanna leant back, and looked at Francisco. “The Freak's kinda trouble. Badass, but trouble.” Letting out a reactionary snort of a laugh, Steph leant back in her seat. “True.”
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03/16/2019 08:01 PM
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[New Tactics?: Drabble]
Everything hurt. She was sure that if her hair had nerve endings, every strand of it would be screaming in pain right now too. But she couldn't stay down. That wasn't gonna happen. Not today. Not any day. Letting out a groan as she rolled to her side, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm, doing little more than smear the mess that ran from her nose and mouth across her face, and up the sleeve of her suit. Somewhere to her left she could hear a voice speaking, through her ringing ears. “Whadda we do, boss? She just won't stay down?” Pushing herself slowly to her feet, with a weak chuckle, spitting a glob of blood, and – was that a tooth? – before straightening up with a stagger. “Idiots. How do we get the drop on a Bat and we still can't take them out?” Screamed the apparent leader. He had done well so far to not reveal himself. They had all dressed the same. All moved as one. But that was it. “Here we go.” A slow grin spread across the bloody face of the blonde, as she darted forward with the new surge of adrenaline, moving with unexpected quickness of a woman having just endured a beating. Driving a knee into the stomach of the first body between her and her target, she gripped their shoulders, drew back, and drove the knee in again, leaning in to stage whisper. “That's how that one's done, sweetie. Take notes.” Before letting go of their shoulders, taking a half step back, and letting them crumple.
The game was on. Panic set in. It was palpable. They were quickly realizing the Batgirl let them get the drop on her. That she hadn't fought back deliberately. Some of the circle around her broke away, running. Steph saw it in her peripheral vision, gaze focused on their leader. “No, wait. Come back. I was so wanting to play with you guys more!” She called, not turning her head, the faux innocence and cheer ghastly, as red started staining the ends of her hair that sat over her shoulders, sitting on her chest, blood dripping from her face. “Here's a tip, fellas. If you're trying to keep a Bat down, a beating isn't gonna do it. Try something a little more substantial next time. Maybe a nuke. Cuz bullets and knives don't stop us either.” Stephanie launched herself at the one the revealed themself to being the leader, fists, elbows, and knees striking at, and felling anyone in her way. Reaching her mark, grabbing him by the collar, she smiled sweetly, a horrible, bloody, toothy smile. “Hi. You're a little bit screwed, huh buddy?” There was a whimper of a response, before her smile vanished, like a switch was flicked, and Batgirl drove her cowl covered forehead right into the bridge of the nose of the man, feeling his reflexive grip on her arms grow weak. Now was the time. “I have questions, you better have answers. What's the dealio. Why you trying to jump Bats? Who's supplying you? And training you?” The response was a gurgled mumbling, his eyes glazed over. Sighing heavily, she lets him go, dropping him heavily to the ground, before beginning to rummage through his pockets, looking for a phone. Finding one, she tries to unlock it, to find it having a passcode screen lock. The exasperated sighs become growls of frustration.
It was fine. She'd take it to the Firewall and just hack the damn thing. Lesson learnt. Don't lead with the headbutt. No matter how badass it may feel. Pressing a finger to her ear piece, she moved back over to where she got up from, scowling, searching the ground amongst the unconscious bodies. “Proxy. I'm done here… but I'm gonna need a dentist's appointment tomorrow. And a decent story for why my face is so messed up. Got any ideas?"
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03/06/2019 06:39 PM
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[Investigation: Drabble]
Crouched low, eyes fixed on the window four down, three across from her position on the rooftop, she watched for signs of movement. It had been still for the few moments she had been keeping watch on it, and just wanted to be certain that no landlords, or otherwise would interfere with her investigation. Quickly taking this opportunity to double check her 'case file' on her phone, Stephanie ran over what she knew so far. Jasmine Lee, age 25, lives alone. No immediate family, co-workers reported her missing Monday after not showing up for work. Kept to herself. No known enemies.What you always hear when someone goes missing. Letting out a soft sigh, Steph tucks her phone away and slowly straightens up, rolling her head on her shoulders. “You're meant to practice the things you're not so good at, right? This case seems simple enough. Shouldn't be anything to mess up. I need to work on investigation. It's a win win, right?” After a brief pause, when she lines up a shot with the grapple line, firing and swinging across to the other building, slowly lowering herself to the correct window, she mutters. “Really gotta stop talking to yourself though. Not a good look…” Gently sliding the winged edge of a batarang under the window jam, she slowly eases it up, before slipping inside, stomach immediately turning at the distinct stench of early decay, faint buzzing not too far to her left. Swallowing hard, she slowly pulled out her phone again, this time to use as a flashlight, pulling her cape to her nose and mouth instinctively, as she swept the beam of light around the room.
There, propped in the corner, very much dead, was a young woman.
Closing her eyes, hanging her head for a moment, Stephanie let out a soft sigh. She had hoped she had just skipped town. Clenching her jaw and taking in a sharp breath, before almost gagging from the smell of carrion, determination set in.
Step one: ID the body.
Sweeping the light around the room again, she looked for some sort of purse, or handbag. Spotting the bag on the coffee table, Steph carefully reached inside, aware to disrupt as little as possible, to look for a driver's licence, a student ID, social security, anything. Pulling a licence out, she confirmed that sadly, it was Jasmine Lee in the corner. Just slightly more, well, dead.
Aware to put it away where she got it from, she returned to Jasmine's side, eyes searching her, for step two.
Cause of death.
After staring at her for a moment, and then looking around the room slowly, Stephanie, not the most well trained in forensics, concluded the cause of death was repeated stab wounds to the upper torso. There were defensive wounds on her arms, which didn't surprise her at all. Standing up, and tracing the blood, she found the first splatter marks started right at the door. She was attacked as she opened the door? They continued all the way back to the corner, where she was forced. Or she tried to retreat to. Where she died. Hanging her head again, Stephanie closes her eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose.
It means whoever attacked her brought the weapon with them. It also means they were someone she would open the door for, right? “Don't worry, Jasmine. I'll get this sorted. And I'm not gonna leave you here alone again…” She mumbles softly, returning to the bag, starting to look for a phone, and finding nothing. Taking a look at Jasmine's body, and seeing her pants have pockets, she lets out a soft whine, swaying in place in lieu of stamping her feet, before going over, and rummaging through the poor murdered girls pockets. Finding the phone, Steph sits back on her heels in her crouched position, swipes the screen to life, (luckily with no code) and looks through the messages, call logs, anything, to give her something for step three.
Suspect.
After what felt like forever combing through the messages, and feeling like a right creep, and finding nothing, Steph scowled. Random attacks happen in Gotham all the time, but not in your own home.
She was missing something.
Sliding the phone back into Jasmine's pocket, Steph stopped and sighed, staring at the blood splatter again, willing it to give her answers.
There was something Bruce said once, during her training as Robin about blood splatter and paying attention, and right now she couldn't remember it for the life of her. “C'mon, Steph, think. Focus. What aren't you seeing?” She hisses at herself, passing the light over the dark stains on the ground. Large dark smears, streaks from being walked though, small quick drips. waitaminute Small quick drips?
Narrowing in on these, she realises they start in the middle of the room, and go towards the door, but aren't near the body. Acting on a hunch, she moves to the door or the apartment, listens intently for a few moments, then quickly opens the door, to see that the small quick drips continue out into the hallway.
Shutting the door with a soft click, Steph has her suspect. No connection needed to the victim, ability to force way into apartment. Stephanie knows first hand how dangerous he can be.
Victor Zsasz. “Well… sh*t. Now what. I never thought I'd get this far…” Returning to crouching by Jasmine's body, she couldn't help but to think for a second that if things had gone differently, they would both be scores on that maniacs flesh. SLAM. CRASH. The door flung open, with force. Steph's head snapping around to look, as two uniformed GCPD officers enter, guns drawn. “FREEZE! HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!” Steph grimaces from her position next to the body, in the middle of a crime scene that has yet to be reported. “Uhh. I can explain?”
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03/03/2019 04:01 PM
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[Belief: Drabble]
It wasn’t often that Stephanie Brown was the one that hit the streets of Gotham of a night. Rare, if ever, really. Normally it was Batgirl prowling the rooftops and alleyways, darkness and shadow as her friends, hugging her as tightly as the for fitting batsuit did. Ok, maybe not. She wasn’t a slinky, shadow creeping badass ninja. She was more a surprise dropkick ‘hi fellas’ kinda Batgirl, but a girl can pretend.Out and about, seeing the city from the rare ground vantage point, her hands deep in the pockets of her jackets, Steph wandered down the quiet streets. A few blocks away, she could hear the muffled sounds of parties; loud voices, the low distorted rumbling of bass in over cranked music, and general merriment. People living their lives. Enjoying their lives. Moving further into the city, even though it was well past 2am, she didn’t feel the least bit unsafe. Sure, that was probably because of who she was, or that she was subconsciously avoiding specific areas while out alone as, well, NOT BATGIRL, Steph stopped into an all night diner, grabbing herself a coffee, sitting in a booth by a window. “Girl, you are crazy to be out this late alone. You're gonna get yourself killed.” The portly, almost grandmotherly waitress shakes her head as she pours the coffee into her mug, Steph grinning brightly. “Nah, Gothams got my back. You love her, she loves you, that's how it works.” “Yeah, You ARE crazy.” Was the only response, before the waitress walked away, shaking her head.
With a shrug, Steph shrugged a shoulder and sipped at the coffee. Wasn’t the first time her positivity was mocked. Wouldn't be the last.
It may have seemed crazy to most in the city, hell, any one that knew Gothams reputation, but she believed in it. That it was beautiful. That the people in it were good. That they could ultimately make it great.
And that's all that mattered to her.
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