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exsiliumlogs2013-09-21 05:59 pm
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Entry tags:
[closed] I once stepped on a dying bird, it was a mercy killing
Date & Time: Late night/early morning on the 20th
Location: A rooftop
Characters: Stephanie Brown and Helena Bertinelli
Summary: It turns out having a sentient weapon kind of sucks when you're having a crisis of identity
Warnings: Talk of violence/murder
[The words stick with her, the truth of them is almost cloying, like she could choke and drown on it. It hurts to think about, to know that Saul is right but to now know what the solution to the problem is. All she can see is losing herself further, giving more of herself to this war until there's nothing left, because maybe that means that Ellie won't have to, that Collette or Saul or Dinah or Babs can still be themselves. If this is a sacrifice she has to make for the people she loves, then so be it. That doesn't make it hurt less, but it makes it easier to bear, the reminder that she's doing this for a reason, that she's still protecting the people she loves.
It's something to cling to, when she feels so selfish the rest of the time, when she keeps making so many wrong choices in her personal life, lying to Ellie to try to spare her feelings, telling Saul she loves him even though they both know nothing can ever come of it, avoiding everyone from home because it's too hard to face them. She's selfish, and she's a killer, and all of it hurts, but she doesn't know how to do anything else, any more.
She feels like she's suffocating, like she needs air, so Steph grabs her Batgirl suit and pulls it on, planning to head out for a few hours. She's so desperate to get out into the open air that she doesn't really take a look at her uniform, doesn't notice the way the symbol on her chest has started to fade, the yellow dulled, as if it's gone through the wash too many times. All she does is leave a note for Ellie and slip out the window, firing her grapple gun and letting it pull her out into the night.
Usually, when she needs to forget for a little while, she can spend hours flying through the air, twisting and flipping across rooftops, but she needs to be careful tonight; the gash on her thigh is already healing too slowly, she doesn't want to risk opening it up again. She flies, but it's not enough, and before long she finds herself coming to rest on a rooftop, because she can't focus on a grapple line when her thoughts are swirling so darkly. Too much has happened for her to forget it, even for a little while, and in the end she finds herself on the edge of the roof, knees curled up to her chest as she watches the city through the rain. If she closes her eyes, she can pretend there's a gargoyle next to her, though she doesn't speak out loud like she might back home.
She wonders what Gotham would think of her, now, with blood on her hands. God knows the city isn't forgiving, but there's part of Steph that thinks of Gotham welcoming Jason back, and she can only pray her city will do the same for her.
Even if she can't be Batgirl, even if Bruce and Cass and Tim wouldn't recognize the person she is now, she has to believe her city would welcome her home.
If it doesn't, there's nothing else left.]
Location: A rooftop
Characters: Stephanie Brown and Helena Bertinelli
Summary: It turns out having a sentient weapon kind of sucks when you're having a crisis of identity
Warnings: Talk of violence/murder
And when I saw you with that gun, I thought... you know, that's not Stephanie. That's not Batgirl, either. I didn't know who I was looking at.
[The words stick with her, the truth of them is almost cloying, like she could choke and drown on it. It hurts to think about, to know that Saul is right but to now know what the solution to the problem is. All she can see is losing herself further, giving more of herself to this war until there's nothing left, because maybe that means that Ellie won't have to, that Collette or Saul or Dinah or Babs can still be themselves. If this is a sacrifice she has to make for the people she loves, then so be it. That doesn't make it hurt less, but it makes it easier to bear, the reminder that she's doing this for a reason, that she's still protecting the people she loves.
It's something to cling to, when she feels so selfish the rest of the time, when she keeps making so many wrong choices in her personal life, lying to Ellie to try to spare her feelings, telling Saul she loves him even though they both know nothing can ever come of it, avoiding everyone from home because it's too hard to face them. She's selfish, and she's a killer, and all of it hurts, but she doesn't know how to do anything else, any more.
She feels like she's suffocating, like she needs air, so Steph grabs her Batgirl suit and pulls it on, planning to head out for a few hours. She's so desperate to get out into the open air that she doesn't really take a look at her uniform, doesn't notice the way the symbol on her chest has started to fade, the yellow dulled, as if it's gone through the wash too many times. All she does is leave a note for Ellie and slip out the window, firing her grapple gun and letting it pull her out into the night.
Usually, when she needs to forget for a little while, she can spend hours flying through the air, twisting and flipping across rooftops, but she needs to be careful tonight; the gash on her thigh is already healing too slowly, she doesn't want to risk opening it up again. She flies, but it's not enough, and before long she finds herself coming to rest on a rooftop, because she can't focus on a grapple line when her thoughts are swirling so darkly. Too much has happened for her to forget it, even for a little while, and in the end she finds herself on the edge of the roof, knees curled up to her chest as she watches the city through the rain. If she closes her eyes, she can pretend there's a gargoyle next to her, though she doesn't speak out loud like she might back home.
She wonders what Gotham would think of her, now, with blood on her hands. God knows the city isn't forgiving, but there's part of Steph that thinks of Gotham welcoming Jason back, and she can only pray her city will do the same for her.
Even if she can't be Batgirl, even if Bruce and Cass and Tim wouldn't recognize the person she is now, she has to believe her city would welcome her home.
If it doesn't, there's nothing else left.]
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When Batman said she was dangerous, unstable, insane, not to be counted on, that she was vicious and a murderer, when he suspected that she'd be like the rest of her family, he might have been right. In fact, she knew he had been.
There's the familiar movements of Stephanie Brown, and Helena pursues coming to stand alongside her. )
Long time no see. ( Probably not that long, actually. Helena is just bad at... greetings. )
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She should have heard her, but she didn't, and it takes a moment to calm down from that rush of adrenalin, though she still remains tense.]
Hey.
[There's no flashy grin, no quip; she just doesn't have the energy.]
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What's up?
( With a frown. She hasn't caught sight of the Bat, just yet. )
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Nothing, just... tired, I guess.
[Helena is definitely going to buy that!]
that icon just looks like the most intense teenage sulking
She's halfway to whipping out some truly staggering sass, when she notices the symbol across Stephanie's chest, turning to face her more fully to scrutinise her uniform. It doesn't look like basic wear and tear style fading, it's so dramatic. ) What did you do to your uniform?
( She's surprised, a little... weirded out, truth be told. She didn't exactly see that coming, not when she'd been letting some people just call her the Bat, outright. )
she tries so hard to be spooky
Her heart stops, she's sure, and maybe that's why she presses her hand to her chest, like she might find her heart beat again and resassure herself that she's alive.]
I didn't--
[Her voice is quiet, panicked, talking to herself more than Helena, as her fingers skim over the Bat, before pressing in more firmly, dragging across the fabric of her uniform.
She looks back up at Helena, almost pleading, as if she could fix this.]
I didn't do anything.
this is myyyy ciiitttyyyy
Just as well Stephanie is already looking at her. ) I'm on your side.
( I didn't do anything, like she has to defend herself to the Huntress, of all people. Silence, for a moment, and she's glad it's broken by the rain because she can't imagine what it would be like without it, trying to breathe in the void. ) We should talk.
the best part is that damian is out of frame looking like grumpycat
She knows Helena means it, because who else would understand this, really? All the things that Bruce and Babs, even her father, said about the Huntress, how she's vicious and dangerous Steph doesn't know how true they are, but if anyone would understand the thoughts clinging to Steph right now, it would be Helena.
But she can't.
She doesn't want to talk about it, she can't talk about it, whatever the hell this even is.
There's a long moment where Steph just stares at Helena, all the pain written across her features, before she steps back off the edge of the roof.
She twists in mid air as she falls, grabbing her grapple gun from her belt and firing off a line to catch herself before she hits the ground. She doesn't know where she's going, but she can't face this.]
grumpybat!!!
Suffice to say there are probably some dislodged tiles, dramatic rolls and impressive leaps in this story. But, gentle reader, we are skipping ahead to the point where Helena starts to feel a little tired of this; she draws her grapple gun again, takes careful aim, and watches as it tangles around Stephanie's ankle mid-leap. She keeps hold of the gun as she approaches, watching as Stephanie swings, and doing nothing to release her from the suspension, for a moment. )
Are you done?
p much
Things would have been much more unpleasant, otherwise.
As it is, she's caught dangling from Helena's grapple, and since she lost grip on her own, cutting herself free wouldn't be a smart idea. She still twists like some caught animal, trying to haul herself up, but she's too exhausted to manage it without likely hurting her leg.
Instead, she glares at Helena, grasping onto anger to save fear from overwhelming her.]
Are you? [She gives another annoyed squirm, trying to break free] Let me go.
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( She can take note of the injury without too much trouble, eyeing Stephanie carefully but making no move to free her yet. )
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[Her voice cracks on the last word, and the struggling intensifies; she manages to get her fingers curled around the line, hauling herself up and grabbing for a Batarang so she can cut it.]
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No, but so many people are avoiding talking to me right now, I'm starting to take it personally.
( It could be an exaggeration, or it could just be that Helena "social leper" Bertinelli has struck again. Who knows. Regardless, she's offering Stephanie a hand up. )
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Idly, she realizes the wound is going to scar badly because of all this, and she could almost laugh. What does one more scar matter?
She ignores the offered hand, standing on her own and shifting so her cape is around her shoulders, hiding the symbol on her chest.]
I guess this is what our sentient weapons do when we don't deserve something anymore, okay? I don't wanna talk about it.
[She tries to sound angry, but mostly she just seems defensive and scared and hurt.]
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Why wouldn't you deserve the Bat?
( It's a powerful symbol, tapping into the very heart of Gotham, the way the people think of her, of themselves. The Bat carries them through things that they struggle to survive. As much as Helena despises the Bat, that dependence on it, she understands it. The Bat was what inspired her to fight against her family in the first place, a long time ago. To hear Vic talk, you'd think Batman was her father, rather than a never-ending thorn in her side. )
Not talking about it, wow. That's going to help. It's gone really well for you so far. ( To let it get to this stage and not come to anyone for help. )
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She's being selfish again.]
You can't figure it out?
[It's snapped, still defensive.
Surely Helena knows, she's fighting this war along with the rest of them, she knows what it means to kill and break Bruce's rules.
She doesn't say anything in response to the sarcasm, just wraps her arms around herself and glares.]
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( Slower, like that might help it sink in, although she's not holding her breath. ) The difference between us is that I killed because I wanted to, and you did it because you're at war.
( They've both had something stripped away from them by Batman for not following orders, but it was Helena who was the murderer. Stephanie might be a criminals daughter, but at home, she'd not been reduced to Helena's level. Not yet. ) You're still Batgirl. You still deserve that symbol, even if I don't think you need it. This is not his city. The same rules don't apply.
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When she speaks, the panic and hurt is replaced by sharp anger, but her tone is almost flat, like she can't find any more emotion.]
They're as much victims of the United Earth as we are, and I killed them.
[To save her friends, and in the hopes that they wouldn't pass on whatever they've learned from studying them, but she still killed them.
Most of them weren't even armed.]
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( Arguing that it was right to kill won't work, because it never works, there's never a good enough reason. What she does do, is take a step closer to Stephanie. )
Have you even thought about what it means that you care?
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[She stands her ground, no matter how much she wants to turn and run again, isntead of confronting this.]
It means I should know better.
[If she cares, it means she knows it's wrong and does it anyway, and what does that make her?]
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( She won't back down, either. ) What would have happened if you hadn't killed them? What would the consequences have been?
( No. If it hadn't been done, and something had gone wrong, then they'd be tearing themselves apart for the lives lost on their side. ) I means that you have a conscience, that you can do better in the future. It means that you have a reason to keep fighting, because you still value life.
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I don't know, okay?! How can I know when I didn't even try?
[Her voice wavers, the anger undercut by her distress, and she can't even touch on the rest of what Helena says, not without breaking down.]
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( Because it's the Bat that fading, because he's the one with the rules. Is she scared about war, about what it means to her as a vigilante, or is she scared because of Batman? )
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[She's furious, angry and hurt and she just wanted it to stop instead of getting worse.
The accusation that she's cared of Bruce stings, and she's so close to striking Helena, in that moment, barely keeping herself in check.]
Cass gave this to me, and I can't-- [she chokes on the words, doesn't know how to finish that] She'd hate me, if she could see me now.
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( This is war, and everything changes, instantly. This is an extraordinary circumstance. ) You didn't kill before you got here.
( Maybe there had been temptations, maybe there had been times where Helena would say that she should have. But Helena is the bad one, the rotten one. If Stephanie thinks she's reprehensible for killing in war, then what must she think of Helena?
That's not the point, and it's not anything new. ) This changes you, but it doesn't mean you aren't Batgirl any more.
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