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Post by Countess on Oct 5, 2024 18:06:40 GMT
God, Barbara really fucked up this time. Bruce had always told her a fight she can walk away from is one she won, no matter what. She wonders if crawling is an acceptable means of getting away, too.
The fight had been long, hard, and more than she could handle. She had made mistakes, costly ones. Babs removes the hand she has on her abdomen, the neon lights around her making her blood soaked palm appear far worse than it is. Well, she hopes it is making it look worse than it is. This is the first time in a long time she has had her ass so thoroughly handed to her. In a lot of ways, she had forgotten what it was like. No- forgotten is the wrong word. Blocked out seems better, making sure to look at it in a romantic light. She hasn't felt this helpless since-
No. Don't go there, Barbara. If you do, you won't get out. Not now. Not ever.
So, she focuses on moving. If she can get to a telepad, she can get to her home. If she can get to her home, she can patch herself up. Damian... she isn't sure how Damian is going to react. Lying to him, hiding this, it isn't an option. She is too hurt, for one, and for another... she doesn't want to set that precedent. He needs to know he can ask her for help, just like she asks him for help. If she could she would be calling him now...
The ear piece is broken in her pocket, from a really nasty hit to the ear. Even now, as she grimaces from the pain, she can feel bits and pieces of it lodged into her skin and inner ear. That is not going to be fun to extract.
Step... by step... she moves through the alleyways of New York City. No one is bothering her. She has put on a black hoodie to cover up most of her improvised costume. She's in all black, every inch of her skin covered in one way or another, not a bat insignia in sight. Probably for the best... Last thing she wants is to be why the Bats aren't taken seriously in New York. She also doesn't want news of another Batgirl going around the city. Not yet, at least.
"Fuck," Barbara curses. She moved wrong- that is definitely a broken rib or four. Tears fill her eyes, not from the pain, but the shame. She has work, school, the Justice League... She can't hide what she is doing from them, not looking like this. They might bench her. They might look at her with those damn pitying eyes. That was the worst of it, she thinks, other than the horrific act itself. Just how everyone treated her after... She can't go back to that. Not again, not when she has finally clawed her way out of that damn hole...
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Post by darkkon on Oct 6, 2024 0:58:05 GMT
Empire City, The City of Dreams, The City That Never Sleeps, The Big Apple. So many names, so many brochures; New York City. In many ways it was much like Tokyo and Shanghai, a sprawling cityscape beautifully lit with a lively nightlife, but there was something more to it. Something distinctly New York. So many cultures on display for all to enjoy, even an authentic taste of Nihon to soothe a young homesick woman. While much of what she wanted to do would have to wait for day, she was perfectly happy wandering the neon lit streets and enjoying the sights. Though, for whatever reason, the neon signs did seem to be getting rather salacious in this direction.
- “Fuck” - A pained echo from the alleyway to the her left, almost too faint to hear. Halting in her tracks, concern drew the young woman's attention. In the distance a figure, black, a shadow against the sparse lighting within and neon signage afar. Hobbling, heavily. On the ground near the entryway, spattering of a dark liquid. Blood? Blood, not good. Without hesitation, the young woman jogged into the alleyway. ”ください- Please wait!” ((Kudasai - Please)) She’d shout ahead to the shadowy figure, a voice youthful, feminine, and full of concern; correcting herself mid sentence. ”I can help!” She’d quickly follow up.
For whatever reason this person seemed to want to avoid being noticed or getting help, unless there was a clinic just around the corner she was unaware of. As much as she wanted to simply rush up and lend a hand, the circumstance called for a little caution. If the figure were to look back for the source of this voice they would find a lithe young woman, no older than twenty five, no taller than five and a half feet, looking to weigh no more than a hundred-twenty pounds with long black hair and pale skin; closing in on them with the swiftness of a professional runner. The bright clothing she wore was a stark contrast to the wounded stranger, garbed in a simple loose fitting long sleeve tee, white as snow; form fitting jeans, sky blue and naturally faded; and a pair of well worn cherry blossom pink and white sneakers.
She would slow as she neared, where a keen eye might spot her distinctly far eastern features in the dim light, as a keen ear might have recognized her linguistic mixup as Japanese. ”I don’t want to get you in trouble.” She’d say, tone sincere and worried, after stopping a few paces from the stranger and taking note of their suspiciously fully blacked out attire. Her hands held out empty in a disarming manner. ”I know how to treat injury, please.” She’d finish, tone almost pleading, her face betraying a great deal of concern, especially for the wound the stranger was clutching their abdomen over.
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Post by Countess on Oct 6, 2024 1:23:25 GMT
Barbara hears the steps before she hears the voice. She tries to meld into the shadows, but she knows when she has been made. Fuck, indeed. Now she has gotten a civvie involved. At least she has gotten away from the danger, so she thinks. It is strange- she can't quite remember who she was fighting. Head injury? Likely. She need to get to the Watchtower, face the music there. Damn, she is going to hate the next few weeks of her life. Funny, the things that cross one's mind when in this state. All she can think of is that wound Flash had... the look Johnny will have when he sees her healing... the disappointment of Bruce... the personal failure of Damian... So many people let down.
[JAP]"I am okay," Barbara lies, her Japanese perfect. [JAP]"Don't get your... shirt stained," she continues, only pausing because she starts to sway a little, her head swimming now. If she wanted to keep this person away from her, she couldn't. Barbara, in her awful state, tries to weigh the options. It doesn't take long. She is going to die without help.
[JAP]"Broken ribs, at least three. Lung pierced. Broken nose. Broken or cracked zygomatic bone, not process. Knife wound to the abdomen, right iliac region. Likely nicked hip, intestines certainly compromised. Multiple cuts but not stabbings to the arms, defensive wounds. Cracked radius, broken fingers in both hands," Barbara says, the technical nature of it soothing her, even in Japanese. The wounds paint a horrible picture.
[JAP]"I am close... to safe house. Medical supplies, SOS, my team," Barbara says.
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