Owner	Pose
Stephanie Brown	Batgirl and Amygdala trade more blows. The costumed young blond woman is much faster than the muscular prison inmate. She stays just ahead of the metal bench that was ripped from the ground and turned into a lethal weapon. But Batgirl takes a kick in the side, and then a back fist that sends her tumbling back before rolling to her feet. On her part, staff blows have landed on the criminal's arms and chest and even head, though he seems to be shrugging them off. She dodges another swing of the bench, thinking to herself, "Going to have to try something different." As he lunges for her she turns and runs at the outer wall of Blackgate Prison's enclosed recreation yard. He chases behind and she reaches the wall, running up it and flipping overtop of him just as he slams the bench forward, having intended to impale her against the wall. The super-strong blow with the metal bench blasts through the wall, opening a hole in it. Batgirl meanwhile flips overtop of Amygdala, reaching down to slap a sticky-bomb onto the back of his head as she passes, and immediately triggering it. Amygdala staggers forward and falls from the blast, down but not out. Batgirl lands heavily, coughing in the smoke from the minor explosion. She looks up to find a hand reaching down towards her in offering, and behind it, the face of... her father. His prison inmate clothing adorned with his prisoner serial number. Blue eyes going wide, she reaches for the hand, which starts to pull her upwards. But only high enough to get her off the ground where Arthur Brown can then slam his knee forward into her head, never suspecting it is his own daughter. Batgirl falls back to the ground with a groan of pain, while Arthur "Cluemaster" Brown spits in her direction. "F'ing Bats" he says and then turns and runs through the hole in the wall, disappearing into the night.    -------------------------- Stephanie Brown sits bolt upright from where she was dozing, arm on the Batcomputer's console, head on her hand. The memories cued by the dream cause her to slam her hand down on the console. Though a moment later she gently rubs the undamaged countertop. "Sorry, not your fault," she tells the Batcomputer with a sigh. A hand ruffles through her blond hair before both hands rub the sleep from her eyes. She checks on the output of the search she's been running constantly since Bane's attack on Blackgate that resulted in a breakout. Still no sign of Arthur Brown. He's managed to stay entirely off the grid since his escape. Stephanie sighs, getting up and going over to a cooler to grab some grape juice. She's wearing jeans and a Gotham U t-shirt, and old sneakers that have seen better days, but are too beloved to move on from.
Damian Wayne	Damian is muttering to himself as he descends into the Batcave. "...it's impossible for electrons to have an orbital decay. Their distance from the nucleus is mathematically fixed. Who did that idiot sleep with to get his Ph.D..." Clearly he is coming down here to do some schoolwork, and he's not particularly pleased with one of his teachers. He has a backpack slung over one shoulder and is holding a laptop in one hand.     The teen notices Stephanie down here reviewing one of her fights. He sets his stuff down on a table. "Oh good, father did hire some cleaning staff. Can you make sure you dust really well around the DNA analyzer?" The twinkle in his eye, though, does seem to indicate that he is not displeased to see her here. By Damian Wayne standards, that's practically the equivalent of a hug.
Stephanie Brown	A piece of paper that had contained mostly doodles is given the brunt of Stephanie's response, wadded up and launched with a no-look, lazy flinging gesture towards the youngest Wayne's head. "Do you look forward to the day that your height, shoe and clothing size aren't all the same?" she retorts. Damian's presence is a more welcome one than the dream she was having. A couple of Stephanie's own books are stacked on the console beside her. She's finally chosen a major. Criminal forensics, and two of the books are fitting for it. The other is probably for an elective class in literature. "Getting ready for tonight?" she asks after taking a sip of the grape juice. Something with caffeine would be better just now, but she sticks to just the healthy stuff, as if it could serve as a penance for her not stopping her father's escape.
Damian Wayne	Flipping open the laptop, Damian starts to get some files ready so he can do "schoolwork," which for him amounts to little more than busy work. The faculty really sort of hate him over at Happy Harbor. He's smarter and better informed that most of his teachers, and isn't shy of verbalizing that. Often. But the Bruce Wayne has deep pockets and contributes too much money to the school for them to do much more than grin and bear it.     "I guess," is his noncommittal response. "This new stray that father took in, Phoebe, has been using magic on the grounds and barely controlling it. Last night was nearly a disaster. I suppose I'll have to hunt her down later and keep an eye on her so she doesn't summon a greater demon or something."     Then, as if realizing what he just said, he looks up from the computer and blinks a few times. "I wonder if she can summon a greater demon."
Stephanie Brown	Stephanie takes another sip of her grape juice and then turns to look over to Damian. She looks him up and down in a very pointed manner. "Too late," she says of demonic presences appearing, before turning back to the giant computer monitors, a slight grin on her face after the comment. "Haven't had much time around her so far," Stephanie admits. "Been busy with moving, and trying to plan things. On top of school and... this," she says, with a frustrated gesture towards the Batcomputer. An alert pops up, audio playing softly, with subtitles on the screen, of a police car radioing in a pursuit that is underway. A mouse click brings up a map of Gotham. "Not going anywhere except stuck in rush hour," she surmises at seeing the traffic ahead of the fleeing car. No need for any of them to respond. "So how's school going? Got a prom date picked out?" she asks. It is getting near to that time of year, isn't it?
Damian Wayne	"Prom is a waste of time and resources," Damian opines as he goes back to getting the computer ready for his schoolwork. "This never-ending mission of ours is a lonely endeavor, and wasting my time dancing with some idiot girl who probably can't even throw a decent punch would be foolish."     His gaze does wander around the chamber for a moment, as if something about that statement distracted him. But then with his signature frown, he looks back to his laptop. "Attachment is weakness. First father and that criminal. Now you and Dick." He shakes his head slightly.
Stephanie Brown	Stephanie's attention at least appears to mostly be on the Batcomputer, though one corner of her lips quirk up in a small grin which shows she's paying attention. "Might seem that way until you find an 'attachment' of your own," she tells Damian. The further radio reports suggest Stephanie's assessment of the situation was prescient. The fleeing vehicle is forced to stop by bumper to bumper traffic. The pursuit goes on foot, but other units in the area help catch the fleeing car thief. "It's good to have reminders of why we do this," she says, gesturing with an imprecise handwave behind her towards the multi-million dollar facility with the cave motif. "What it is we're fighting for, for everyone," she says. "You know, so we don't all end up stabby-stabby McKill-people." She finally swivels her chair to face Damian more directly. "Besides, it's fun dressing up, showing off. Or, you know. Listening to Mean Girl comments. Your mileage may vary."
Damian Wayne	Damian glances up at Stephanie. He really is a handsome kid, though he carries himself as if utterly unaware and unconcerned with such trivialities. And he looks *amazing* in a tux. But, he just frowns.     "On Infinity Island I was taught to win at all costs, that victory was the only goal and no road was too low," the teen says. "Father taught me...a different way. *That* is why I do all of this, so I *don't* go back to being a killing machine. I can't be distracted with high school drama."     Generally speaking, there is a certain amount of transparency to Damian's vitriol. Now is no exception. Clearly the subject of prom and dancing and girls is something he doesn't know how to deal with, so he puts it into the same mental bin with other worldly things that, as a child, he was never taught to untangle. Not unlike being raised by wolves, being raised by world-dominating assassins has its costs.     There are a few long moments with no sounds other than the click-clack of his fingers moving rapidly over the laptop keyboard, sounding like the claws of tiny rats on glass. One might surmise that he is done talking, but then he says in a muffled, almost embarrassed tone, "I hope that you and Dick...protect each other." That is officially a Damian Wayne Warm Sentiment.
Stephanie Brown	The small smile that the comment gives Stephanie is evidence that she recognizes the sentiment behind it. Sentiment that has to go through conversions that make going from Celsius to Fahrenheit a snap to get from Damian emotions to normal people emotions. But one she's used to by now. "Thank you," she says. "He's doing a good job of protecting so far," she says. "We're moving into the lake house. Actually, mostly moved in already. Been doing a little bit at a time, with everything else going on." A window pops up on the Batcomputer screen. Stephanie leans closer as it shows a still from a closed circuit camera feed. A man walking past that the facial recognition patterns tagged for being worth a closer look. But, not Arthur Brown even if there is a strong resemblance. Stephanie sighs and flags it as a false hit. "What class you working on there?" she asks, glancing over towards Damian tapping away on the laptop.
Damian Wayne	The teen stops typing and sits back in his chair. "I'm teaching an idiot who clearly bought his Ph.D. from a website how to do particle physics. Honestly, I wish father would buy that school and then burn it to the ground. I'm unclear as to why it exists."     Then he kind of fades off, just staring off into the dark recesses of the Batcave. He does that sometimes, just controls the pace of the conversation like he was taught to control the pace of a fight. For Damian, all social interaction is merely abstracted combat.     Finally: "Am I an asshole?" He glances back toward Stephanie.
Stephanie Brown	"Oh, undoubtedly," Stephanie says without needing any time to consider a response. Though that might be softened as she swivels to face him again. "But it's because you don't understand what other people's lives are like. Not like people who are that way to feel better about themselves. Or because they are just mean-spirited," she tells him. The coed pivots the chair back towards the screen. "And you have a certain charm to you," she says, before the blue eyes turn to look at him side-eyed. "I mean, yeah it's buried deep. Like coal mine deep, you get me? But sometimes it comes out," she says, flashing him one of her big, goofy grins.