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Post by Oracle on Oct 19, 2012 13:18:38 GMT -5
[style= text-align: justify; padding: 5px; width: 550px;] Blue light illuminated her the pale skin upon Barbara Gordon’s face. Green eyes were mildly intensified by the bright luminesce that erupted from her screens, and she blinked tiredly, realizing that she had spent the last ten minutes staring intently at a rather mundane camera feed. As if that weren’t new. Stretching back in her seat, the Oracle stretched out with a rather loud yawn, allowing her noble, thick red hair to fall back and the tense muscles in her body to loosen up as new life was breathed into them. Could she really blame herself for being so stiff this entire time? After all, good things did come to those who wait.
The criminal world had been aflame with information on a package that was coming into Gotham this evening. The contents were not specifically identified and even Oracle’s vast outreach and resourcefulness couldn’t pull up information on the package. She could only assume from there on that whatever was coming into Gotham was big and that either meant it was a big weapon or the blueprints for success.
What was even a greater mystery was figuring out who the package was for. This was another thing that Oracle was in the dark about; much to her chagrin, but she persisted in the retrieval of this mysterious package. The point was, whatever the contents, whoever it was for – was all irrelevant. Once she got her hands on it, then it excised everyone else from the picture and hopefully this time around her sources would be so unreliable. Oracle had tripped up before and while she deeply regretted the poor decision making she had made in the past she still pushed forward. It was after all the only thing left to do.
The package, which had been identified as a rather nondescript briefcase was in enemy hands right now. For whatever reason Falcone’s mobsters had their grimy fingers all over it and by the looks of things, they weren’t quite ready to let it go. Whatever their reason was for being possession of the item was well beyond Barbara’s consideration, what she was more focused on was getting it far out of Falcone’s reach – as far as possible and absolutely necessary so that they could put a halt on whatever tricks he had up his sleeve.
“Not to night Falcone.”
Barbara whispered to no one in particular as she slid back in her seat and surveyed the camera feeds that were had displayed before her. It was a Falcone hideout, well not really a hideout since it was just a quaint little brownstone tucked away in the nicer part of Gotham. The Falcone’s owned the second floor and while the cozy apartment looked welcoming, unsuspecting to many were the rather violent and ruthless neighbors that existed on that floor. Breaking and entering into hideouts was one thing, getting into private homes was another. There was the worry of the neighbors, innocent people becoming aroused, aware or being caught in the line of fire. The last thing Barbara wanted on her plate was a casualty and if she could avoid that tonight, then she was golden. She had already surveyed the area and pulled up a rather intricate floor plan of the entire unit.
Second floor, which meant either walking up the stairs or coming down two stories from the rooftop. There was the option of walking in through the front door and straight into a rather Victorian kitchen or through the balcony that rested right outside the master bedroom. Both rooms would exit out into the living room/dining room area and across the hallway was the second bedroom, where the briefcase was safely tucked away. The only reason Oracle knew this was because Falcone loved his security and with that constant paranoia that existed with power he needed his eyes open at all times. Cameras were outfitted throughout the entire home and in every room (yes even the bathroom) just to make sure that Falcone knew what was going on at all times. What a silly gesture.
What was another man’s slip up was Oracle’s advantage and now that she had a bird’s eye view of her targeted location she was very confident in the idea of this siege going over quite well. Of course, that would also rely on the back or rather – handiwork of her helping hand.
Activating her communication link, the all-seeing, all knowing Oracle let out a slight air of breath as she waited for the line to signal that it was open.
“What’s your location Batgirl?”
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Post by Batgirl on Oct 20, 2012 15:14:13 GMT -5
Gotham rooftops all pretty much looked the same. They were funny that way, between the Gothic designs and the gargoyles everywhere. The only ones that weren’t were the skyscrapers that looked almost deliberately designed to be as different as possible. This building though, which overlooked a certain quaint little brownstone, was pretty unremarkable. It had a nice view, if you liked rain, smog and darkness. Otherwise, you were pretty much out of luck. It also had nice gargoyles though.
Steph Brown crouched on the top of it, peering down from the shadows of one of said gargoyles, which was how she felt she was in a good position to be passing judgement on them. She was there by special request, though all she knew was that she was going in the brownstone below sometime to grab something from a Mister Falcone (that name they all knew). And she’d been waiting a bit too. Not long enough to be truly impatient, but just long enough to be wishing that they could just get on with this.
At that moment, she heard the familiar chirp of her comlink signalling. Sounded like someone wanted a word with her and she was pretty sure that it could only be one. Deftly, her fingers reached up to her ear, tapping the appropriate part of the cowl and sending the signal that she was listening to the woman on the other end. And there we go, guess confirmed as the familiar and acerbic (yes, she did know what that meant) voice echoed through the line, checking on her location. She resisted the urge to snort, given that she knew that the other woman knew exactly where she was. Even if there wasn’t a camera on her right now, which she’d done her best to avoid, didn’t her suit have some sort of locator card in it?
Hey, if Babs wanted to experience her sparkling wit, who was she to deny her?
“Just hangin’ with the gargoyles opposite, O.” Steph answered, taking a moment to stretch out her foot before it fell asleep. Pins and needles weren’t her arch-nemesis (that was still gravity) but they were pretty high on the list. “Waiting for the good word, hoping you don’t leave me here all night because, I’ve got to tell you, these guys are rubbish conversationalists. I tried all my best lines but I couldn’t get one of them to crack a smile.”
She paused a moment, glancing around, wondering what the All-Seeing One would have to say to that. In reality, it was pretty dull up here, just playing the long game, but she’d worked with Oracle enough to know that, unless she wanted to just dive in and go with the flow, she’d just have to be patient. And, as she couldn’t get at all the plans that O had to hand and didn’t know which window was the right one (which made her think that the Boss Lady hadn’t told her that on purpose), Steph was just going to have to keep waiting.
She also knew that this one was one of those jobs that she probably was luckier than she deserved to be in on. Probably, this was one of those jobs that should go to Black Canary or Huntress or one of the other Birds, which left her guessing that there was a time factor, the others were occupied and Batgirl was the best that Oracle could get on short notice. It was a Falcone, after all, not just some skel like her dear old daddy. That place was guaranteed to be rigged for security. So, much as she’d like to just kick in the window and play her old favourite of ‘worse cop’ with him, she was going to wait.
Because, as always, Steph was going to show Oracle that she was right to trust her.
“When do we go?” That didn’t mean she was going to be patient about it if she could avoid it.
TAG: Oracle |
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Post by Oracle on Oct 27, 2012 23:32:48 GMT -5
Batgirl
It rolled off her tongue oddly as she spoke it, not that anyone outside of herself noticed. She wasn’t exactly territorial over the mantle or anything like that – no it was more so, she was protective over the idea it represented and the responsibilities the mask entailed. Stephanie Brown was far from an amateur, but she was – in Barbara Gordon’s also – a far cry from prepared to carry the mantle fully on her own. Oracle had taken the girl under her wing, being the first and only Batgirl that was trained under its predecessor. The training that she oversaw for the young woman was rigorous, demanding and everything that Bruce would have expected from any of his sidekicks. From anyone who was committing themselves to his family.
Stephanie was exceptional at what she did, as was anyone who took up this line of work. She arose from humble beginnings as her own individual persona – the Spoiler and evolved so quickly and so deservingly into the role of Batgirl. Not that Barbara was going to admit any of that of course, besides she still had a lot of work to do. You had to earn these kinds of appraisals, she had learned that the hard way and everyday her relationship with Bruce was questionable as the man had a knack for hiding his feelings. It was easier for her at least, she was a voice behind a computer screen and on a live communication line, facial expressions were completely out of the picture and masking your voice wasn’t exactly the hardest thing to do.
Smart retorts and quips aside, Barbara knew that it was now time to get to work. Having Stephanie opposite the brownstone was an optimal location for her predetermined mode of entry. She had already decided on having Stephanie enter through the balcony that lead to the bedroom with the desire briefcase. Two balconies, would you believe it - the builders should have gone ahead and put one in the living room too while they were at it. Her slight amusement subsided and she checked the cameras to make sure that the unsuspecting guards were too busy playing card games in the dining room to even noticed or care that someone was about to jump into their lovely little abode.
“Sounds like your people skills need work; I’ll tell you now that’s not the only thing that needs it.”
Barbara Gordon felt the corner of her lip twitch slightly as it tried to form a smile, but she stopped it keeping the rather serious expression on her face as she slid her hand towards the black mug of coffee to her right. Off to business.
“We go when I say we go. You should know the drill by now.” Barbara began, scratching the back of her head as she watched one man yawn and rise from his seat to take refuge in the bathroom. A few bottles of beer and water would do that. “If you’re across the brownstone now you’ll notice two balconies, second floor.” She paused, imagining as Stephanie peered over the roof’s edge to the brownstone in question. “The one to your right leads into a small bedroom, the suit case is neatly placed on the bed. I’ll assume you have your laser cutter to cut the glass to open the lock or you can pick it.” Oracle continued, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she began to hack into the cameras that outfitted Falcone’s hideout. Specifically, she focused on the two that were placed on the balcony and within the second bedroom. She would have to play a loop to allow Stephanie the cover from any third party that was watching in charge of surveillance for this brownstone. Falcone wasn’t that stupid after all. A guy like him knew that the guys on the scene didn’t always get the job done.
“You’ve got five men, armed with Smith and Wessons, looks like .45s – semi automatics.” Her eyes narrowed as she entered the proper sequence to allow her to enable the loop. Once she did, there would be a jump in the frame and the screen on the other end would show a feed that displayed the same untouched, uninhabited area of space. This would be enough to visually conceal Stephanie.
“This is an in and out job, get the briefcase, get out. Don’t do anything…” she paused allowing the first part of her statement to sink in, “reckless”.
On her other screen the man who had left for the bathroom returned to the card table set on another round, accompanied with a rather large Cuban cigar. Smoke filled the chamber and Oracle decided that now would be the best time to get things started.
“Alright, go.” Barbara said, her breath almost a whisper as she watched the balcony intently, waiting for Stephanie’s word to allow her to send the camera into a loop.
“Be careful.”
That last bit wasn’t meant to be outwardly pronounced. Tag: Batgirl |
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Post by Batgirl on Nov 2, 2012 17:59:04 GMT -5
“There’s nothing wrong with my people skills.” There was a brief pause. “Ok, so the first time I met Tim, I hit him with a brick. And I basically met Bats throttling my old man with a chain. But most people think I’m cute and loveable! I even helped that Witchboy kid with his cat! I have awesome people skills. It’s just my gargoyle-wrangling that’s a bit rusty.” Steph coughed a little. “Anywho, you should probably let me go before I blow one up. Or something.”
“Unless I jump the gun, decide you’re being an old-stick-in-the-Clocktower and just hop on into Mister Falcone’s tastelessly appointed brownstone for tea and cookies,” Steph pointed out with a slightly sing-song tone, leaning forward even so to eye the aforementioned property and the two balconies in question. Yep, there they were, one and two. Two was on the right. From where she was, Steph couldn’t have said it was the bedroom behind it, but O said it was and O almost always knew what she was talking about. It was, if Steph was totally honest, the times when she didn’t that scared her.
She didn’t like silence much either, though she prided herself on making her banter work for her rather than against her. It was all part of her dance now and she’d got to make sure to keep her razor-sharp wit, well, razored. Or something like that. Ok, focusing now.
Quickly, Steph patted one of the pouches that surrounded her waist, feeling the kinda-familiar shape of the laser cutter in it. And, if that went wrong, she had the comfortingly low-tech solution of lockpicks or, even lower tech, a nice solid kick. Those doors didn’t exactly strike her as impregnable and, while she got that this was meant to be a stealth mission, speaking as Batgirl, she’d love the chance to show Falcone just how pregnable his place was. Another time, she guessed, even if five guards didn’t sound too bad. More a light workout, particularly in a small room where they’d just get in each other’s way. Maybe she’d be able to hang him over a long drop for a while…
“Ready to rock and roll.” Her voice was steady as she assured Oracle that she was prepared, eyes flickering over the façade of the building as she looked for the best grapple point. “And you know me, O. When’d I ever do anything reckless?” Steph grinned as she said that, despite the tone of wounded pride she’d assumed. She could do in and out, sure. Nice and silent and spooky. “Speaking of which, though, how’d you like me to leave a batarang on Falcone’s pillow? We ought to let him know just who took his stuff.”
The blonde girl was getting ready even as she talked, her grapple now in hand, primed. “I’d make it a signed note, y’know, something like ‘You’ll look great stripes, love Batgirl’, but I’ve only got my lipstick with me and I’d kinda like to keep that for messaging ‘Detective McHandsome’, thanks. I could make it a gooperang though. Which reminds me, I really ought to copyright the whole ‘electro-magna-gooperang’ trick, before one of the others steals it. Bunch of buzzards…”
On that note, Steph temporarily trailed off, which was probably for the best as she’d cheerfully have chattered right over the ‘go’ order as well as the rest of it. Already antsy, Batgirl was in motion the second the ‘go’ hit her eardrums, a cable snapping out to snag one of the gargoyles opposite so that she could swing over the gap, her booted feet clumping solidly against the wall as she landed above the balcony. “Gone,” She managed, resisting the urge to make a joke about Oracle being the one with the inside/outside voice problems today. Instead, Batgirl managed to avoid just blurting that one out. “And thanks, Ominous but Loveable Voice in My Ear.”
A quick thrust of her legs against the wall gained her the space she needed and then Steph unhooked the grapple, dropping to the balcony itself in a swirl of cape.
Fishing out the laser, Steph went to work on the glass as fast as she dared. “In position and working on the door now, O. Entry in, um, say ten seconds?” The very tip of her tongue stuck out between her teeth as she focused on making sure her work was nice and silent… Nearly there…
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Post by Oracle on Nov 3, 2012 21:39:29 GMT -5
Rambling: the insistent and constant rambling. Why was she not used to this by now? Barbara could no longer count the amount of time she and Stephanie had worked together, but she was more than aware that Stephanie was one of her more memorable employees - Not that any of the prime individuals she worked with weren’t memorable, but maybe it was just the tender spot she had for anyone who worked under the guise of Batgirl. There seemed to always be a problem with them, one was either too quiet or one was too noisy. She rolled her eyes; maybe she just would never be satisfied.
While Barbara yearned to hiss through her microphone piece and low Stephanie please be quiet, she decided against it, knowing that while Stephanie was officially part of the Batfamily it didn’t mean she completely embodied it. In fact, Stephanie Brown was a nice change of pace for the family, more upbeat, chipper and overall just a more pleasant individual to be around. She definitely had her way of sticking out and it as more than those purple decals and dirty blonde hair. It was probably that striking personality that she was debasing earlier that set Stephanie apart from anyone else in the roster of the Gotham Knights.
Despite her seemingly amateur demeanor, Stephanie was good – damn good at what she did and what she was asked of. Barbara had yet to see the young woman disappoint or fail and even if she did, the red head was sure it wouldn’t inflict as much grieve as one would expect. She had to respect Stephanie Brown in all her efforts and all the work that she produce, but sometimes she just wished the young woman would just shut up.
Eyes narrowed and her index and thumb gripping her glabella, Oracle could only nurse her head to a state of serenity as Stephanie went to work on that glass window.
“No calling cards Batgirl, based on your method of retrieval I’m sure Falcone will have a good idea of who took his belongings.”
Barbara spoke, her free hand reaching for the cup of coffee that lay just a few inches away from her keyboard. The warm touch of the mug brought about a wave of calmness upon Barbara and she gripped the cup gently and brought it close to her lips. Her eyes began to raise, catching sight of the screens where everything seemed to be progressing on as normally as it should. Ten seconds had long passed, and with the help of Barbara’s tampering with the security system no alarm was set off as Stephanie unlocked the glass door and slid it to just enough room for her entire body to fit into.
She nodded to herself, focusing primarily on Stephanie’s screen after confirming that Falcone’s boys were still entranced by their card game. Why they were betting away the only salary they were receiving (and that was worth anything) was beyond Barbara. But times were desperate she supposed and as much as she liked to distance herself from the bad guys she knew that behind the suits and heavy artillery some of them were just men, fathers trying to get a good thing going to make ends meet. When you were in the moment you looked past that, but Barbara knew she had come home to her father telling stories of men who were literally in the wrong place at the wrong time. No one ever wanted to be on the bad end of the law, but when things were rough sometimes you just didn’t have a choice.
That didn’t excuse them of course, but Barbara being the one stuck in a tower and with nothing to do but practice patience or get lots in her own thoughts really had the time to think these kinds of things through.
She sucked at her bottom lip, watching Stephanie inspect the bag to ensure it wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary. Opening it up would have to wait for later, for now Barbara was more so concerned that a failsafe or security alarm might go off if she lifted it from its place. Falcone was always prepared and even in the safety of her prowess Barbara always had to leave room for uncertainty. Sometimes people managed to surprise you.
And surprise they did. Movement on the other screen caught her eye and she flicked her glowing green eyes to the left to watch one of them rise from his seat. He made his way across the dining room and disappeared from the frame. Her eyes quickly moved to another screen, following him as he walked across the living room floor. For a fleeting moment she thought that Stephanie had messed up or an alarm had been triggered. Her hand gripped at her headpiece and she was prepared to help maneuver Stephanie out of the situation. All was not necessary as the man disappeared from the screen again and appeared in the “hallway” that led to the front door.
Guests were unexpected, and Oracle wondered if it was perhaps Falcone on the other end. Her question was quickly answered as the door was pulled open and the hapless man had a serrated blade go through his right eye. The perpetrator dug the blade deep into his skull and his other head reached through the doorway and lay flat over the man’s mouth as it helped the now deceased man fall silently to the floor.
A sharp intake of air was finally exhaled and Barbara’s eyes were wide open as she watched the bladed man walk into the home, a group of three men following after him all armed with sub machine guns. She watched as the leader of the pack, a tall heavy set man in a rather stunning dark blue pin striped suit directed his men to the dining room. The three men went forward and as she shot her eyes back to that camera feed she watched as bullets hailed into the room, capturing the unaware gentlemen at play. Her breathing quickened and she began to drum her fingers on the desk as her eyes moved back to the hallway.
The heavyset man was gone, her eyes trialed over every screen and then she saw him, heading straight for the room that held the briefcase and most importantly, it had Stephanie.
“Batgirl, I have some good news.”
Barbara began, her voice calm despite the racing of her heart.
“One, you get to work on your people skills and two, you get to leave a calling card.” Barbara said, knowing full well that even if Stephanie had the means to escape they needed to know just what exactly a bunch of mobster wanna-bes were doing –breaking into a Falcone hideout, slaughtering his mean – you just didn’t do that.
“You’ve got a linebacker heading your way, he’s got a five inch blade and is probably hiding some kind of firearm under his suit. Find out what he’s doing here and keep that package safe.” Tag: Batgirl |
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Post by Batgirl on Nov 13, 2012 12:27:13 GMT -5
”Yeah and I just bet he’ll blame Daddy Bats for it,” Steph muttered to herself after Oracle declared that she couldn’t leave a calling card.
She then paused as the tiny fact that she’d actually said that out loud settled in, before shaking her head vaguely forlornly even as she went right back to cutting through the glass. It was taking longer than planned. It wasn’t even really that she minded, but O could say that Falcone’d have a good idea of who took his stuff all she liked – Steph had been doing this gig for more than long enough to know that the Big Bad Batman got blamed for anything and everything Bat-related. If you were scary enough like, say, Huntress or Cass, then maybe they’d blame you. But Batgirl? Robin? Then, even if you beat the guy with a baseball bat until he spat teeth for a week, he’d say he was jumped by Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman all at once if that meant he didn’t have to admit to getting beat up by a girl or a kid.
This was taking more than ten seconds. Buuuuuuuut… There it went. Having been all prepared and everything, Steph easily caught the circular piece of glass as it came loose and placed it neatly on the ground nearby. At least this time, she’d picked the right bit of glass to cut and it was easy enough to stretch her hand inside and twist back the lock with a grin to herself. A moment later, the door was open a fraction, just enough for her to slide inside. Closing it behind her, Steph took just a moment to grin and wave at the camera – picturing Oracle rolling her eyes – before going to the bed and examining the case that sat there. It was, surprise, surprise, a case. Pretty much the same sort that anyone could buy, so long as they shopped at ‘Mobsters Anonymous Inc’, with a high tech lock.
Eh, O could crack it, but it wasn’t really the time, much as Steph would have loved to open it up, steal the contents and leave Falcone thinking all was neatly squared away when really he was carting around an empty case. Classic. But, she’d have to make up for it by just taking the whole thing right from under his thugs’ collective and often-broken noses. Well, speaking as Batgirl, she couldn’t see anything. Nothing outside the case, no weird tech rigged to send an alarm… Um, nothing at all. And, well, given all the other security, wasn’t it possible that Falcone had just thought alarming the case itself wasn’t worth the time or money?
She was about to find out.
Gingerly, Steph poked the thing. With her staff, from a good distance, because she wasn’t stupid, thanks. There was a pause. The world didn’t end. No alarms sounded, no thugs ran in shouting and shooting, nothing exploded. Steph let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Ok, she was just about done with this joint. She just had to grab the case, get out and get it back to the Hacker Queen in her Dork Tower before end of Bat Business Hours tonight.
Which really just went to show that she couldn’t see the future given that she thought that just before gunfire erupted what felt like right next to her. Steph eeped and dove for cover before she realised that, whoever it was, they weren’t shooting at her. She poked her head back up. No, it was in the apartment, but it wasn’t at her. ”O?” Steph whispered, ”Shots fired here.”
And, after that, it was all of ten seconds later that O’s voice came down the line to her again and told her that she’d got ‘good news’. Huz-freaking-zah! And it didn’t take a master detective to realise that ‘people skills’ here meant ‘hand to hand skills’ and ‘calling card’ meant a bunch of thrashed mobsters. Fine by her – sneaking around was fine and good but she’d much rather leave all the thugs here tied up in a nice package with a bow on top for the cops to find. One linebacker headed her way, with long knife (compensating for something?) and a gun under the inevitable suit. Piece of cake. Then she could do the rest of his buddies and, even if the people they’d just shot were scum, Steph was going to relish making them pay.
”Roger that, Boss-Lady. How many friends has he got?” Despite her voice being low, Steph couldn’t hide the excitement that coloured her tone at the prospect of the upcoming fight. The other thing ‘people skills’ could mean though was interrogation skills and, well, that she wasn’t quite as good at. Oh well, she’d just have to (Bat)girl up and get whatever it was out of him or them. First things first though…
Well, she knew where he’d be coming from. She also knew that he probably didn’t expect anyone to be in here, let alone a Bat. So Steph hid. It wasn’t a good place to hide for long, bracing herself up above the door, mostly because she was basically holding herself in place. Sure, she could do it for a while. Certainly long enough to wait for him to come in and get far enough in. Then, when it was all just right, she let herself drop onto his head with both booted feet, then flipped off him and back. Steph landed on her feet between him and the door, which she promptly kicked shut behind her, before readying her staff again, brandishing it with a grin on her features – the one she always had at this point.
”Hey there, Big Man,” She chirped. ”I’m Batgirl and I’ll be kicking your ass tonight. Plus, in our special twofer deal, you’ll be telling me everything you know.” Steph paused, her grin quirking. ”Which won’t take long.”
And then she went to slam one end of the staff into the hand holding the knife, then the other into his left kneecap. Always a classic.
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