|
12/14/2021 09:43 PM
 |
[Lea Jacobs: Drabble]
Shuffling downstairs, hair matted to her head, cheek swollen, lip split, bruised, sore, in good spirits, Stephanie Brown stifled a yawn, dragging her weary body to the kitchen. Sitting at the table, sipping from her mug, attention focused on the newspaper, Crystal glanced up at the zombie like figure of her daughter, reflexively flinching at the sight of her face. "Big night then?" The not so battered side of her face tweaked upwards into a half grin, as the blonde moved about making herself the all important first meal of the day; coffee. "Aren't you glad you know about my night job now, and I don't have to try to make up some sort of lie about this?" With an all too familiar less than amused murmuring in response, a response everyone around her had developed over the years, Stephanie moved to study the fruit bowl, as Crystal lowered the newspaper. "Oh, a letter came for you.-" Before Stephanie could even joke about old timers and snail mail, or wonder about who would even bother sending her mail, Crystal continued, as if seeing the thoughts forming in her daughter's head. "It looks like a child's handwriting." Abandoning all jokes, search for fruit and her coffee, Steph beelined to the end table kept next to the front door, a stack of mail sitting on it. Flipping through it almost frantically until she found the one addressed to her she threw the others back down, and just stared at it for a moment.
It could be anything. It could be Efia, from Africa, maybe. That's it. Leslie gave Efia a way to contact her.
So why was the return address in Metropolis?
With hands beginning to tremble, she turned the envelope over, taking in the sunflower sticker acting as a seal. A reflexive, nervous chuckle left her, slowly sliding her finger under the lip, unsealing it.
Taking out the carefully folded letter gingerly written on lined paper, she began to read.
The further down the page she read, the harder the pages trembled in her grasp. A choked sob escaped her throat, as she sank down to the floor.
By the time she had reached the last page, tears ran unhindered down her cheeks.
Crystal slowly made her way over to Stephanie, kneeling next to her, who handed her the letter, sobbing, and laughing into her mother's lap. To Miss Brown,
That's how my mom says you should write letters. I've never written a letter before, but this one is special.
My name is Lea Jacobs. I'm going to be six soon. But mom says you only need to know my name, because you'll know how old I am.
I see on tv and movies that people get scared about being adopted, that mom and dad aren't really mom and dad, but they're the only mom and dad I've ever had, so don't be scared that I know, ok! Mom told me when I was being bullied, and I wanted to write to you, so we got a, mom called him a pie? and now I'm writing to you!
I started a fight with the bullies. I don't think standing up for yourself is wrong, but the teachers say fighting is wrong. It's so confusing.
I like puppies, kittens, and horses, but birds are the best. With all the bright colors.
We see Superman all the time, and Supergirl. But since you live in Gotham, I want to tell you about the time we saw Batman, Robin and Batgirl helping Superman and Supergirl! They're so cool! Do you see them a lot? I like Robin. Is it true there's been a lot of Robins? Even a girl one? Is there a school for Robins? Is there more than one Batman? There's more than one Batgirl, right?
I know all about Superman. If you write back to me, you can ask me anything about him.
My favorite color is purple, but I really like green and blue too.
And I think I'm running out of stuff to write.
Mom is going to put a picture of me in my Halloween costume that I made. My very own Robin suit. But it had to have purple. There's too much red on the real ones.
Did you know there's a black and purple robin, the bird? That's so cool.
I hope you can write back. But if you can't that's ok too!
From Lea She started at the notepad, the blank lines almost mocking her. She had been wanting, waiting for, this moment for years now, and now that she had it, she froze.She didn't know what to say. So many jumbled, disjointed thoughts, that she couldn't even sort out herself, to put pen to paper, let alone expect an almost six year old to be able to decipher. "Earth to Spacecase, come in Spacecase." A hand waved in front of her face, snapping her from her staring.
Setting down the purple gel pen, with its chewed to death from overthinking cap, Stephanie leant back, setting her hands on the blank pad, to look at her Ground Control, Jordanna. "What's up, Jor?" Slipping into the seat across from her, the library fairly quiet this time of day, Jordanna looked from the blank page to chewed pen, to Stephanie's face. "You've been staring at that page for days now. What's the problem? Stuck on an essay?" Shaking her head slightly, Steph pulled the slightly crinkled envelope from her backpack, smoothing it softly, carefully, mumbling a response. "Trying to think how to reply to this. It's harder than I thought it would be. I don't know where to start. Or what not to say. Or what to say. I just. I don't know where to start." Frowning, having never heard the always full of some form of confidence Stephanie Brown mumble, and so unsure of herself, Jordanna reached for the envelope. Steph pulled it back slightly. "You're gonna judge me. Like. More than you already do." "Just give it. You keep saving my ass, I'll give you a pass." With a sigh, Steph handed it over, before going back to chewing on the pen lid.
After a few moments of silence, Jordanna, folding it back up and sliding it back to her, says softly. "You had a baby. Big deal. You went to term with her, at such a young age. That can't have been easy…" Steph shrugged a shoulder absently, frowning slightly. Jordanna tapped the paper. "Just write. Tell her about you. Answer her questions about the Bats. Talk about purple. Be an old timey pen pal. It's not the end of the world, Stephanie. She seems like a cool kid. She definitely doesn't take after you." Letting out a snort of laughter, Steph nodded, giving Jordanna a watery smile. "I know, right? Definitely got the right parents for her." Before lowering her head and beginning to scribble away. To Lea,
It took me the longest time to work out what to write to you. Not because I didn't want to, but I just didn't know what to say.
But a friend of mine told me to just write. I'm sorry if this gets long, or boring, I've been dying to talk to you since, well, you were born, so it's a long time coming.
It's sort of funny that you live in Metropolis and know everything about Superman. I used to dress up like Superman when I was little, and I think I still have a shirt and poster in my room somewhere!
I'll send you some Gotham Bat-merchandise, there's a lot of it. There's even a Batburger. It's kind of silly, really. But about the Robins, there isn't a school for them, that I know about. There was a girl Robin, but she doesn't really count as a Robin. Not really. She was Robin for two months, and then she died. It's not a good life to be a Robin, so be safe in your suit. I do like the purple additions, much better than all the red and green.
Talking about Robin. I'll tell you a secret. The Robin before the one we have now, that took back over after the girl Robin, was actually there when you were born. Only you, he and I know that now.
I was involved with some not so safe stuff. And my dad was a real bad guy. I didn't want anything to happen to you. I would have tried my very best to provide for you, but I knew I wouldn't be able to keep you safe.
Now you're in the safest place you could possibly be. And you're happy, and loved, and I couldn't ask for more.
Purple is my favorite color too. That's pretty cool, don't you think?
I like music, all music, any music. You play it, I'll dance and sing.
I play piano sometimes, but not as well as I'd like to.
I'm studying to be a doctor. Help all the people I can.
That's all I can think of for now, Lea.
Let's be pen pals!
From Stephanie Brown. A second letter.An invitation to meet with Lea and her mother in Metropolis. Steph and screamed, and cried, and jumped up and down on the furniture when she read the letter. She didn't even react like that when she somehow got her college acceptance letter, and that was still pinned to her wall. She was going to see her. See Lea, her little baby girl, for the first time. EVER.She hadn't seen the baby during, or after the emergency cesarean delivery, she elected not to after it, when she came back to consciousness, believing, rightly, it would be much too difficult to go through with giving her up for adoption. Stephanie didn't even know the baby was a girl until a little later, when Tim accidentally told her. Tim, who had been there for her, almost the entire time, when he really didn't have to be. 'Oh my god, Tim. I haven't even told him any of this.' Lowering the third blouse she was holding up to herself, absently staring into her own reflected face, thoughts all over the place as she had been trying to pick something to wear for the meet up, she threw to onto the mountain of clothing on her bed, and dug her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.
Flicking through the contacts, her thumb hovered over 'Alvin', stalling.
All these years, and she still hadn't bothered changing his name in her contacts. Even after several phone changes.
At this point, it was a security measure, Couldn't walk around with every member of the Wayne family in your contacts, after all. Right? Right. 'Sure, you keep telling yourself that, Stephanie.' Locking the phone again, she paced back and forth across the carpeted floor of her bedroom, scowling heavily at herself.
What was the problem here?
Was it the history?
It's always the history. But. This just felt. Necessary.
She could text him? But then he'd go into overdrive, because it wouldn't have enough information.
She was gonna have to call. And not dork it up.
Well. More than usual.
Exhaling heavily, unlocking the phone, and taking a seat on her window sill, she pulled up 'Alvin', called, and waited for him to pick up.
And waited;
And waited;
And waited
'Ohgodhesnotgonnapicku-' "Steph?" "Ohthankgod, Tim, hi. Hey. Hello." "Uh. Hey? What's up? Everything ok?" 'Good job. You've already failed in not dorking.' "Uh, yeah, everything's fine, I just wanted to talk to you about some stuff, and maybe ask you something, if that's ok. You know, if you had time." "Steph-" Realizing how she was sounding, she spoke quickly, waving her hand at herself, in the air. "No no, not that stuff. It's about my daughter, Tim." A pause. "Is she ok?" Breaking into a watery grin, her eyes filling with happy tears, not for the first time, talking about Lea, she picked up the letter again, and the flood gates opened. "She's great, Timmy. She wrote me a letter. Two letters, actually, and sent me a picture. Her name is Lea. She's so big. She likes Superman, and Robin, and purple, and horses, and she wants me to come see her. I was wondering if you'd come with me. Since, y'know. You came with me to birthing classes, and you were basically more involved in her birth than I was, I mean, you held her, I didn't. It makes sense. To me, I mean." Another pause, a longer pause, in which Stephanie sniffles softly. "Of course, Stephie. When is it?"
|
|
|
12/13/2021 10:33 PM
|
[Lesson to be Learned: Drabble]
That animal had already killed two people today alone. He was killing Batman. He would have killed her, if not for her suit. She had to do something. Shake it off. Get to her feet. MoveCome on Robin, Batman needs help. Don't let Zsasz kill him too. Get his hands from around his throat however you can. Grabbing him by his nose, already bloody, probably from the B-Man, maybe one of his victims, she yanked his head back. It took him by surprise. She was meant to be unconscious. "Hey Psycho..." Steph just moved on instinct now. She had to protect herself. Protect Batman. Zsasz was going to kill them otherwise.
So she drove him face first into the wall, with a sickening crunch.
She had to keep Zsasz's attention. Do what she had to.
The knife. Where was the knife. Batman had disarmed him. She could use it to get his attention.
Vaulting herself over the scar-covered psychopath, she dove for the blade, on the other side of the Dark Knight. Scooping it up and reading herself in a defensive stance. Draw him in. Take him down.
No more problem. "Yeah, that's right. This is what you want, huh? Well then come and get it you sick freak!" Zsasz took her bait. Darting towards her, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Drawing the knife back prepared to strike as the mass murderer was in range, he stumbled. Batman recovered quickly it seemed, with the brief opening proved, rising to a knee and delivering a nerve tap to the side of Zsasz's jaw while he was focused on Robin.
Dropping the knife she rushed to the side of the Bat. "Ohmigod, are you ok?!" A grunted response in return "I'm fine. But once we get Zsasz to the proper authorities, you and I are going to have a little talk…" Did… she do something wrong?
|
|
|
11/24/2021 07:40 PM
|
[Super Power: Drabble]
"Yeah, and who do you think you are?" So maybe she should have interfered in the mugging without her suit. She didn't think. She just did.
Dropping her book bag to the ground she half smiled, rolling her shoulders to warm them up. "Me? I'm nobody. Don't worry about who I am." She was the forgotten, the replaceable, the fill in.
The never as good as the others, the perpetual failure.
The one that had to work twice as hard for none of the recognition.
And that was OK.
Being nobody was an asset.
Stephanie Brown was invisible.
That was her super power.
|
|
|
11/03/2021 09:17 PM
|
[Study Chatter: Drabble]
“Hey, what do you see.” The nudge to her shoulder brought Stephanie out of the intense staring at the same line of her internal medicine textbook. Blinking a few times, she frowned and tried to cycle through the last few minutes of whatever was going on in the group to have context to the question, hoping her ears had actually caught it, while she was totally brain dead there for a minute.
And failing. “I’m sorry, Francisco, I wasn’t even here. I was on Planet ’Oh God I’m Totally Gonna Flunk This Next Paper’, what were we talking about?” Beside her, Jordana snorted a laugh. It took all her self restraint to not give her a sharp boot to the shins. Flunking was no laughing matter.
Shooting a quick glare to Jordana, Francisco gave Steph a small smile before catching her up with what they had been talking about. “Fear gas. Everyone has been hit with at this point. Jor got dosed with Thrill that one time too. So, what do you see? I see snake monsters.” Raising a curious brow, Steph didn’t press the issue, and simply turned her gaze to Jordana. “Let me guess. Is it a broken nail, Jor?” “Go jump, Freakshow.” Jordana, however, didn’t have Steph’s self restraint. Or her aim. Francisco let out a yelp, leaving Jordana looking immediately apologetic.
Steph’s small smile quickly faded though, as she started picking at the corner of her text book. She couldn’t believe she was about to tell them this. She wasn’t sure this was even in her file And between B and O she was sure they had everything about her on file. “I, uh… I see myself...”
|
|
|
03/18/2021 06:55 PM
|
[Temper: Musings]
"IS THIS ALL A JOKE TO YOU?!"
Detective Gage barked at the blonde Batgirl. Stephanie had been butting heads with him the entire time on this case, but this was a breaking point.
Whipping around, she rounded on him faster than he knew how to react to, his anger almost flickering away in his surprise as the 5'5" vigilante snarled at him, snagging him down to her eye level by his tie.
If any of the other Bats that ran around the city were around, they would have known Gage had now entered dangerous waters. Stephanie never pulled you in to yell at you. Get all up in your face, yes. But this? She had entered the rarely touched 'composed rage' stages of her self righteous fury.
"Don't you DARE presume to know me, or my coping methods, Detective. I either make my jokes and try to pretend that I didn't just walk out a shipping container that I was knee deep in human remains in, or I completely lose my sh*t and beat people to death, you don't get to make arrests, only pick up more remains. Which do you prefer?" Letting go of his tie and shoving him backwards as punctuation on her biting sarcasm, Steph didn't give him a chance for rebuttal.
She had a human trafficker to go beat to unconsciousness.
|
|
|
03/13/2021 10:43 PM
|
[Uncle Dave: Drabble]
She didn't like it. Didn't like any of it.Her mother's younger brother, Dave had rocked up to the house unannounced, and decided he was staying for a while, because he was 'between jobs'. Sure, whatever, Crystal loved her little brother. But something was just… off about him. How do you come to your sister and nieces house, with a plush crocodile for a child and actually say the words 'I been away so long I didn't realise you grew up, Stephanie'What sort of mental deficiency did Dave have? Did he not understand how TIME worked?! Ok, OK. So maybe Steph was being a little defensive. She had not long managed to get her dad some serious time after all, her mom was starting to come good, she didn't want anything messing with that. And Uncle Dave was a major loser. While she was trying to compose her thoughts, scribbling away to herself in her journal on her bed, a figure filled her doorway. "Little Stephie, all grown up." Hearing 'Stephie' leave his mouth set her teeth on edge. The only person that got away with calling her that was her mother. Closing in her journal and shifting to sit up, Uncle Dave continued. "Guess you're old enough to drop the 'Uncle', huh? How 'bout you just call me Dave." He threw in a wink, for good measure.
Narrowing her eyes and folding her arms across her chest, as red flags started being raised, Stephanie chose her next words very deliberately. Growing up around world class jerks that liked to play games sometimes had its advantages after all. "How long are you staying, Uncle Dave?" Leaving her doorway, with a snap and shooting of finger guns, Dave gave a promise (or what felt more like a threat to Steph). "Don't you worry. We'll have plenty of time to spend together." Returning to her journal, only absently drawing circles in the corner of a page, dread started to set in.
Uncle Dave used to idolise Arthur. With that sort of role model, he needed to be watched. She wasn't going to deal with that in her house again.
Uncle Dave bought the three of them dinner. Way too much dinner. That also meant there were the three of them gathered around the kitchen table. "You shouldn't have bought so much food, Dave!" "S'ok, sis. I'm loaded right now. And plenty more coming." 'But, didn't you say you were between jobs, Dave?' Trying to keep the squint from her face as she decided to start her probing, Stephanie adjusted her grip on the chopsticks. "You win the lottery or somethin', Uncle Dave?" She hadn't have bothered trying to keep her face neutral. They weren't looking at her. Dave too busy trying to open the champagne he bought with dinner, Crystal too busy being proud of her brother, for some reason. "Naw, but I have some pals I'm meeting up with here in Gotham later tonight. We're gonna go into business." Crystal beamed at him, prompting Steph to roll her eyes. "That's great Dave! There's so many opportunities now that the city is open again." 'Mom's lie detector is malfunctioning again. This could be Dad at the table…' Dave moved to pour the bubbly into Steph's glass, a motion that was swiftly shut down by her covering it with her hand. What was he thinking?! "I don't drink. Mom doesn't drink anymore either." "You gotta loosen up a little, Stephie." That was it. She was about to throw a fit. Getting to her feet, abandoning her half eaten meal she stormed from the kitchen. "I don't feel good. I'm just going up to bed." Crystal turned in her seat, concerned. "Maybe I should stay home from work?" "It'll be OK…" Stephanie didn't go to bed, however. She used the time she had of her uncle spinning bullsh*t downstairs to raid the spare room, where he was staying. He only had the one bag, so it wasn't hard to go through everything and put it back. Uncle Dave had a brown paper bag full of cash, and a rubber gorilla mask in that bag. But no gun. Which meant if he had one… it was on him. She didn't like that at all. She thought about confronting him as Steph. But that probably wouldn't pan out too well. But if he wanted to 'start business in Gotham'... he should learn what happens to crooks in Gotham. Leaving the spare room, Steph made a beeline for the garage, the voices still coming from the kitchen. 'Jokes on you, Mom. You might have found the one in my room, but Robin taught me to have a spare handy.' "Need help looking for something?" Uncle Dave's voice sounded from the door behind her. Pivoting, tucking the suit bag behind her, she just word vomited the first things that came to mind. "OH! I'm getting along fine, Uncle Dave." Leaning against the door frame, he leered at her. "You sure are Steph. You sure are." More red flags. She didn't like that look on his face. She had been here before. She needed to get out of here. Her only way out was past him. Keeping her head up, she moved towards the door, towards Dave.
He leant out to her, lifting her chin with a finger. "Y'know, your mom's gone 'til morning and I'll be back in a few hours…" Her temporary reluctance flared to anger, and disgust. 'Ewewewewewewew' Barging through him, she made for her room, to suit up, his voice following her. "See you later then, Stephanie." The first time out since the baby was born, her first time out in a year. She felt a little rusty, but it felt good.
And Uncle Dave was a nice easy target to get back into it again. He didn't know to watch his back. He didn't know to watch the skyline or rooftops.
He and his 'business associates' were a bigger losers club than her dad and Uncle Eddie, and that was saying something.
Watching as they gathered outside a liquor store and stopped to put on their masks, she couldn't help herself as she got in position behind some trash in the alleyway. 'Smells like armed felony. Let's do this. Three armed men, twice my size. Surprise is all I've got.' The Spoiler launched her attack. Pelting them with puker grenades (a gift from Robin), she moved fast, her cowl protecting her from the super supreme stink bomb.
Goofy mask got a kick to the knees, ending up face first in the cloud of gas. He took himself out, gagging and retching.
Pikachu mask? A gut punch, winding him, forcing him to take in deep breaths of the puker.
Gorilla mask? Uncle Dave? He was a little smarter than she gave him credit for. He moved out of the cloud of gas. 'Can't outrun gunfire. Work in close. Just like you were taught.' Darting at him, Spoiler slipped up under his arms, twisting behind him and sweeping his legs from under him, grabbing his wrist that held the gun and twisting it back, hard, until he dropped it. For good measure, as he dropped in elevation, Steph drove her elbow into the side of his face from along his arm repeatedly. A little aikido plus a little Steph flair goes a long way.
With the growing approach of the sirens, Spoiler fled the scene, switching on her terribly cobbled together scanner to listen to the report.
Turns out, Uncle Dave had a record. And that was his third strike. An automatic fifteen year stint up the river for mom's little brother.
What a shame.
Stephanie may or may not have sent him a little gift in jail. The little crocodile, and a letter. 'Thinking of you'
|
|
|
03/10/2021 11:35 PM
|
[Bets: Drabble]
Stephanie Brown, sat beneath a tree on campus, her internal medicine textbook and notes around her. Some of the runaway leaves of note paper were pinned under her coffee cup, others under her leg or foot. As unconventional as the set up may have been, it worked for her. If she studied at home, she was going to fall asleep. No doubt about it. But out here, she was in the open. Exposed. Vigilant. Even if she never looked like it. From here, the pre-med student takes the cap of her pink highlighter between her teeth and gets to work, striking through lines of text, head bobbing absently in time with the music blaring through her headphones. Watching her (by the point) familiar study ritual while they ate their lunch from the benches, Jordanna nudged Francisco. "Five bucks says it's boy bands. She's definitely a boy band kinda girl." With a derisive snort, Francisco pointed at Steph (who was now awkwardly contorting herself to hold the free paper down with one hand, the highlighter wedged against her cheek and shoulder, all to take a sip of the coffee without losing her place) with his spork. "Nah, nah! Are you forgetting that rave she dragged us to? It's some sort of EDM. Definitely." They were both wrong in this instance.
She was prepping for this upcoming test the same way she prepped for sparring with Cass.
Hyping herself up, with a little Powerman 5000.
|
|
|
11/08/2020 05:16 PM
|
[The Black Knight: Drabble]
The settling in had actually been going rather smoothly. The thrumming bass from the nightclub half a block away didn't even bother her. She could mostly make out what they were playing. Saved her annoying the neighbours with extra noise. She just danced around to distant music while finishing unpacking, or, in tonight's case, trying to salvage the new frying pan from her attempts at cooking earlier. Ok, so cooking might have been a stretch. It was more 'reheating her Chinese takeout in the pan in effort to feel more… adult, and failing spectacularly', but regardless. Listen. Listen. Don't judge. I feel the judgement. A girl can disarm a nuke, but not cook? She was taught how to do one of those things. No-one ever bothered to teach her to cook. Someone started. Then he was killed. So keep judgements to yourself. She's getting there.Standing at the kitchen sink, trying to scrub burnt sauce and stuck noodles from the brand new pan Crystal had gotten her, hips swinging absently in time to the beat of… y'know, she really should look into what that place was called… whatever they were playing, her ears pricked up at the sound of a scuffle outside. Literally just outside her windows. Sighing slightly, she wiped one hand on the leg of her jeans to dry it, reaching into the butt pocket to blindly hold down the power button of her phone for a two count, then press it rapidly three times, while hefting the dripping pan from the sink and crossing to the window that opened. The business with her phone? If she had stopped with two rapid presses, it would have activated the models default SOS mode, and sent an emergency text with her GPS location to select contacts. She went in and added an extra feature. The third press sent just one message. Contact: Doctor Chomps - Message: danger zone Shorthand for 'I'm about to do something probably very stupid. If you don't hear from me in the next hour, I'm likely dead in a ditch somewhere.'
Probably an alarming message to get from anyone else, but this was Stephanie Brown. There was a reason they had shorthand for it. Almost everything she did spiralled into a bad idea, or something reckless eventually.
She didn't even stop to size up the situation before crawling out the window in her slippers, with her frying pan.
What? Was she going to ask them to hold on a second before she went and got her suit on, ran up to the roof and jumped down on them?
It was smarter, sure. But PEOPLE NEEDED HELP. "Hey, can you guys keep it down out here? I can barely hear the nightclub." One of these days, she'll think before she speaks. Today isn't that day.
Tomorrow isn't looking good either. The mugger? assailant? whipped his head in her direction, grip tightening on the woman's collar, pointing his knife in Steph's direction. "Mind your own business, bitch!" Rolling her eyes, Steph had to remind herself she wasn't in her armor, that she couldn't 'play' with him as much as she would normally. She would have to actually be efficient.
Gross.
Eyes darting from the ski masked douche (why always ski masks?), to the kitchen knife (really?) to the terrified woman (fair) to the trash can along the wall between them, she had her plan.
Weighing the pan and doing some judgement calls, she shortened her grip on it's handle, tilting her head. "You made it my business when you came to my place, bud." Before launching the frying pan in an underhanded, discus toss to his ribs, and darting forward.
Snagging the trash can and shoving it in front of her, she kicked it towards the assailant, snatching up the lid for herself in the same movement. She had done this before, after all.
With her kick, her fluffy bunny slipper went flying with the trash. Screwing up her face at her rapidly dampening sock, Stephanie pressed on.
Clattering the trash can lid into his face, now that she had closed the ground between them entirely, not batting an eye as he swung the knife around the makeshift shield blindly, Steph drew it back, and drove a sharp right hook into his jaw, right below his ear.
For all the messing around she did on patrol, and in sparring, if she wanted someone down, they were down.
While Stephanie had been doing her best Captain America impression, the woman had actually picked up the frying pan, ready and willing to help defend herself with trembling hands. Softly, she gasped. "You're bleeding." Simultaneously, from the upstairs neighbours, a voice called. "I've called the cops. I hope nobody is dead." With a blind wave upwards, Steph looked towards her forearm, where the poor woman was staring in horror.
To Steph, it was just a cut. Nothing really. She had definitely had worse. Screwing up her face slightly, she shrugged a shoulder, dropping the trash can lid to the ground, and scooping her other slipper back up, not willing to put her damp sock covered foot back into it. "T'is but a flesh wound. How about we get you some tea while we wait for the GCPD? You look like you could use it." The woman laughed weakly in spite of herself as Stephanie helped her through her window, and gave her directions around her kitchen to make herself tea, while the blonde stayed outside, keeping an eye on the assailant. Being passed a kitchen towel for her arm and a cup of tea herself, the woman sat on the inside of the window ledge, waiting for the GCPD.
They arrived, took statements, rounded up the would be… whatever his intentions were, and were generally fairly average at their jobs.
Steph slipped back inside, immediately flicking herself to rare, naked foot form after ensuring the GCPD would get the woman home safely.
She didn't intend on making a habit of this. The naked feet, or the jumping out the window in her slippers.
Taking her phone from her back pocket again she sent another message. Contact: Doctor Chomps - Message: Not dead. Everything is fine.ππ Now, back to that damn frying pan. It could be salvaged. Or maybe she should tend to her arm properly first…
|
|
|
11/06/2020 08:01 PM
|
[Who Is Stephanie Brown?]
Who is Stephanie Brown? Look at her and you would never even scratch the surface. She is many hidden things.•A criminal's daughter, that became a different kind of criminal, determined to not be like him. •An addicts daughter, with her own much more dangerous addictions – to adrenaline and danger. •A teen mother that convinced herself she would have been a terrible parent based on where she comes from, giving the baby up for 'a brighter future' all while risking life and limb for the children of strangers. •A medical student, that should know better than to go through life on less than three hours sleep a night and caffeine, yet here she was.•Finder of child-like joy in almost every situation to brighten the days of others, determined to not let herself them brood. •Demander of emotions being expressed in others, while suppressing a lot of her own, until a boiling point is reached. •Persistent thorn in sides, purely to ensure she is never forgotten about. So she can't ever go missing again. •So very afraid of being alone, yet terrified of letting people in, because she has been nothing but a means to an end. A tool that others have used. •Ride or Die. Literally. Show her a little kindness and she will die for you. •Compassion for DAYS•The loudest little stealth machine you'll never be able to see if she doesn't want you too. •Believer in people, never in herself. •Resident stray, adopted and loved by many, believes none little of it. •Short tempered, violent, and working on it. •Jack of many trades, master of some none. •Fast learner. Plays dumb. •Hopelessly socially awkward with civilians, delightfully dork-filled charm with capes and rogues alike. • 'Hates' a lot of things. Actually HATES nothing. •Lives and breathes chaos, for it's all she grew up with. •For better or worse. She will never quit. •Just wants to help. •Fueled by spite, a lot of anger and the drive to prove every last mother f***er wrong about her. •A storm wrapped in sunlight. •A Concept. A Bird. A 'New Rogue' and a Bat. •A punk rock princess, that plays piano. •A survivor. •Battles giants, monsters, and men, with weapons and words alike. •The most unlucky luckiest little bitch running around Gotham. •Rule twister. •Loophole finder. •A rebel with many causes. •Never going to be whatever you try to make her be. She's just already decided on who she is. And it's not your puppet. •Doesn't mean to lie as much as she does. •Fights with hope, not fear. •Arm Candy Bodyguard School attendant Destroyer. •Little living 'dead' girl. •Not the Best Batgirl.• The Wild Card.She's 'Just' Stephanie Brown.
|
|
|
11/04/2020 08:23 PM
|
[New Nest: Drabble]
The scratching of a pen, the clicking of keys. The Crew now sat in silence, the study session living up to its name for once. Stephanie had brought them all donuts she had swindled fresh from the truck earlier that morning with the Bat Discount, and you best believe they were already demolished – the main culprits being Francisco and Stephanie herself, obviously. Absently toying with one of the curls that hung from the high, messy ponytail, chewing her pen lid as she read, then re-read the same line about internal hemangiomas, Stephanie slapped her hand down on the page abruptly. "Is your dad still having trouble finding a tenant for that murder apartment, Francisco?" Taking a moment to respond, having to recover from the startling break in the silence, her classmate stared at her in bewilderment. "It doesn't help when people call it things like that. But yes. He is." Beside him, Steph was sure she heard Jordanna mutter 'Freak, I swear' into her coffee, as she tried to go back to study. Steph propped her chin on her hand, smiling sweetly. "How much was the rent, again?" "You can't be serious. There's no way dad would lease the place you. Not alone, at least. Not after what happened in there..." Tilting her head slightly, Steph's smile shifted to a slightly devious grin. "I'll see about that one. I'll talk to him about it." Jordanna shrank back in her seat, eyeing Steph wearily. "Why am I worried about that?" Straightening up, an air of faux innocence about her that definitely didn't help any case she was going to make, the blonde just smiled. The meeting with Mr Gracia, real estate 'tycoon' (and problem gambler) went really rather smoothly. No need for the blackmail she was ready with. Just a little bit of emotional manipulation. She didn't even feel bad about it either. After all, his gambling issues lead to Francisco getting kidnapped right in front of her in a diner, and her getting shot in the head. Francisco was such a good son, sharing his life with his father, making her job easier. All it took was introducing herself, tucking her hair behind her ear while talking to make sure the scar was on full display and mentioning she was interested in doing him a favor. You don't want an empty property sitting around Gotham too long, after all. Especially a ground level one. Especially a ground level one that bordered Crime Alley. He could get dangerous squatters! She walked out of there with the lease signed for $150 a month less than his already reduced price, due to the murder, and the green light to move in whenever she wanted. Crystal wasn't thrilled about the idea, but seemed to relax when Stephanie told her the totally not commandeered tech plans for home security, and that she was going to be getting a key for the place. She would be one of four people getting keys for the place actually, the other three being Michael, Harper and Cullen, but Crystal didn't need to know that part right now (anyone else that wanted in would just have to use the new window, easier this time, no roof climbing). Packing and moving didn't take long. Steph didn't have much after all. But that was totally fine. She could get stuff as she went. Right now she had her own two bedroom space, with all the potential in the world. Her own space that didn't involve her getting killed and kidnapped for, or having a bounty on her head, or— It was nice. To have this little, regular moment. To be a real girl. Even if it was only for five seconds, before she started planning where she was installing her drone that would taze an intruder into a coma via remote command, should she so wish it.
|
|
Back to Posts
|