Eimai to A kai to Ω

Your International Spy Name is Kitty Sparks

Your Code Name: Timberwolf You Reside in: Rome Why You're a Good Spy: You can talk your way out of anything

44. What happened the first time you got drunk?

I puked my guts out!

I was sixteen and already in college and like a good, little bookworm I was, college was like every dream come true. It was my dreamland; people (guys) were actually talking to me and my dad hadn’t asked their parents to do so!

I was sixteen and just starting to fill in; going from girl to woman. Another change was the way people (guys) react when they saw my hair. I wasn’t ‘carrot top’ anymore, but the ‘hot redhead’ chick. Yeah, I was fitting just fine in college.

And then I saw him. He wasn’t very tall, but back then, everyone was taller than me. Late bloomer, you see. He was somewhat handsome, but his car was what made him the attraction of the majority of the female population on campus. Once you ride with the batmobile all the other cars are like toys; cute and cute!

So here I was sipping my virgin Mary when he came and offered me a beer. I wasn’t very popular with boys in my school so his attention flattered me. And since I didn’t want to think I was a child (which I was) I took the beer. I never liked the taste of beer, but I kept drinking it in an attempt to be something I would never be; I’m the geeky girl, not the perky cheerleader.

In this point of the story, I have to tell you that I have a low tolerance to alcohol. With two drinks I’m tipsy and with half more I’m drunk. I know that now, but back then I just took a second beer and tried my best to make the room stop spinning. Half way my second beer I had to try to keep it down. The taste it was getting worst, not better. But he was still talking to me with his lips so close to my ear that send chills down my spine.

Of course that was my body telling me that I had enough, but if I only knew then what I know now. It would spare me the embarrassment of puking my launch to the front seat of his car. After I took a third beer from him, he thought that it would be better if we could go somewhere ‘with less noise’ to talk.

Needles to say we didn’t talk that night at all. I spent most of the night bonding with the toilet bowl and he spent most of the night holding my hair up for me. I got drunk with two and a half beer, puke my guts out and somehow I got the guy.

I miss my college days!

Make a list of movies that you wish you'd never watched.

1. Twilight (I know! Dinah wanted to see it and since I'm her best friend I went with her)
2. Friday the 13th (2009)
3. House of Wax
4. The Brothers Grimm
5. X-Men 3: The Last Stand (that wasn't the way it happened in RL)
6. Elektra
7. New Moon (again Dinah!)
8. every romantic comede Dick/Dinah/Charlie made me watch it with them

Usually others don’t understand me, but I think I do what everyone else in my position would do; try harder.

From a very small age I knew I was different so most of the times I was the one that kids didn’t understand. I wasn’t a loner, but I wasn’t Miss popular either. And when your dad is the Commissioner of the city, well, let’s just say that people were trying really hard not to understand me.

So, from a very small age I realized that what makes sense to me doesn’t make sense to someone else and vice versa. It is very hard to keep thinking like that under pressure or when you’re angry, and I know I’ve made my fair share of mistakes (for some reason Helena comes to my mind), but I want to believe that even if I’m not able to understand someone at least I will give him or her the benefit of the doubt.

For as long as it takes me to understand him/her.

I have an eidetic memory; I can’t forget things no matter how much I want to forget.

Most people don’t understand that having a perfect memory is not a gift, but a curse. I want to forget so many things in my life and I can’t. I can’t forget all the wrongs I did, all the failures in my life, all the wrong decisions I made.

I want to forget the shooting. I want to forget that he undressed me and took pictures of me. I want to forget that. I want to forget the pain in my dad’s eyes when the doctors informed him that I was never going to walk again.

But I can’t.

How far would you be willing to go to prove a point?

I would, literally, die to prove a point.

When you’re bound to a wheelchair as I am, you don’t have so many options or escape routs with one that can simple run away. I have taken some wrong decisions in my life; sometimes with my full knowledge, sometimes because I didn’t know what else to do. I’m not innocent, I know my mistakes and I try to learn from them.

I asked Jason to spy on Dinah when I thought that she was dating Ra’s. I had little proof of that, but doing nothing wasn’t an option for me. So I asked from my ex-fiancé to be the shadow of my best friend. Turns out I was right and Dinah almost died, but that wasn’t the farthest I went to prove a point.

I blow up the Clocktower to prove a point; I blow up my entirely life, my memories, my home. Because of my actions I don’t have a photograph of my mother. That hurt more than having to start my database from scratch. It hurts more than moving from my home to another city. And it hurts more than being stuck in a wheelchair.

But I don’t regret it…much. If I hadn’t done it, a good man, maybe the best man I know, would had died in front of my eyes. He would either die or kill someone and I think it’s the same. For people like us it’s the same thing. If we kill someone a part of us will die. Let me tell you one thing; they are worst fates than death.

To die is to sleep. To live is to suffer.

What are you hiding from?

There’s this song from Pearl Jam, Corduroy, which I happen to listen to it right now and there’s this lyric:

Everything has chains absolutely nothing’s changed

And this is how my life feels right now. Everything has chains and absolutely nothing has changed. People around me come back from the dead and I’m still here. Stuck in my own little, sterile, digital world. People move on and I’m just watching them move on without making a move to stop them and ask them to take me with them.

Truth is I don’t want them to take me with them. I think I’m too comfortable in my little world to go out and face the true one. I’m important behind a computer screen. Taking that screen away from me and I’m just your average (with better training) handicapped. And I think I’m hiding from the world behind a screen because it’s my way to feel comfortable numb.

Maybe deep down I’m afraid to go out and face the world which is silly if you think of it since I was jumping from rooftops when I was just a teen. But I’m not a teen anymore and I’m not jumping from rooftops anymore. The only jumping I do now is from my chair to my bed.

And maybe I’m hiding from myself; pretending to be someone I’m not.

When she was younger, like all kids her age, Barbara collected photographs of her favorite musicians and actors. Something that drove her dad crazy, especially since his twelve year old daughter preferred bands like Alice in Chains and Pearl Jam to the popular boy bands of the time.

Growing up she enjoyed collecting bad guys for the police. It was almost a game between her and Robin. Whoever could catch more criminals would buy launch to the other (Batman was always the winner but he never paid for anything).

After the shooting she started collecting information. She would spend hours in front of a computer screen trying to memorize every single detail. CDs and hard disks were too dangerous to keep around. She has memory sticks hidden all around Gotham in places even Batman doesn’t know, but her mind is the biggest hard disk she owns.

But that’s not the only thing Barbara collects. It’s the most important, but not the one that makes her feel like the careless twelve years old she once was. Barbara collects vinyl. She finds it funny that a techno-freak like her has such an old fashion hobby. Then again it’s not as old fashion as she thinks. She sees more teens in the shops she goes than adults.

She keeps her vinyl in a rend storehouse. Her place is not safe for her little collection (she owns over 2000 LPs and EPs). She has a tendency to destroy her places (to save Batman, to save Oracle) plus she’s not sure that she trusts Dick around her LPs. So she keeps her vinyl in a storehouse that visits once every month.

She collects vinyl after all, not music. She has an iPod for that.

91.7 Make a list of items you refuse to throw out.

1. My old costume
2. My first computer
3. My PS2 (PS3 doesn't feel the same)
4. My old motorcycle (I have years to use it)
5. Dick (most of the times)
6. My Aeon Flux DVDs (I was young and MTV was still cool at the time)

92.7 Make a list of people who you want back in your life.

1. Dick (I miss our friendship the most)
2. Dinah (take care best friend)
3. Charlie
4. Cass
5. Tim
6. Helena
7. Bruce
8. Zinda

Honesty I don’t know how to answer to that. You would think that by now I would have been out of the chair. I really don’t know why I refuse to let them heal me. Okay, the Lazarus pit, that I understand. Lazarus pit and I are a bad compo. A real bad compo! People already accuse me of craziness.

I know you do!

But why I never let anyone heal me? Why I never called Dr. Shondra Kinsolving? Bruce did and if he did then why I didn’t? I ask myself that many times. Why I don’t let anyone heal me. It’s like…a mantra then nights I can’t sleep. And as hard as I try I can’t give an answer.

Maybe I’m afraid. Maybe I’m too stubborn to ask for help. Maybe I believe that I deserve to be in the chair. It was the biggest mistake of my life and maybe I deserve to pay the price. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just crazy.

Or maybe it’s guilt.

89.1 Make a list of ways to kill time.

1. Rpging online
2. Reading
3. Playing Magic
4. Playing WoW (okay, I used to)
5. Swimming
6. Watching b-movies (I have a thing for teen horror movies)

90.6 Make a list of things you usually hide about yourself.

1.I'm paraplegic (I don't hide it, I just find it hard to talk about it)
2. I have a photographic memory (close friends they know that, but the rest of the world?)
3. I'm feeling angry all the time.
4. My pain.
5. My skills.
6. My addiction to teen horror movies.
7. My real identity.

“This is ridiculous!”

Barbara said to no one particular. She was alone in her apartment, her computers on and running, and if she could walk she would have been pacing like crazy.( Twice! )

1. Walking
2. Running
3. Feeling happy
4. Playing Magic
5. Dick
6. WoW
7. Finding a good reason of why Dinah is still with Ollie

The day I learned that Helena was wearing my Batgirl costume it was the worst day of my life. When Joker shot me, I thought I was going to die. Later, when the doctors came and inform me about my situation, a part of me did die. It took me a while to accept what had happen. What had happen to me.

I’m the daughter of a cop. From a very small child I knew that maybe one day my dad wouldn’t come home. When you live with a constant fear, after a while the fear becomes your best friend. It’s something you don’t like, but you learn to accept.

Then I became Batgirl and suddenly I wasn’t afraid for my dad. I was afraid for what would happen to my dad if he got a call one night, asking him to go identify my body. What would he think of me wearing the cowl. Only that never happened. Joker did. Twisted turn of fate. I couldn’t go out as a hero; instead I went down as a victim. Wrong place, wrong time. At least I didn’t have to bury my father as well. That I wouldn’t bear.

As I couldn’t bear the thought of Helena wearing my costume. It wasn’t Helena’s fault; it was mine. I couldn’t bear the thought of being replaced. I couldn’t beat the thought I was left behind, that I was forgotten. But what I couldn’t stand at all was the fact that I was just another victim.

One of the many.

Your Passion is Purple

Sophisticated and classy, you're a bit picky about sex. You're more likely to be turned on by a fancy hotel room than a dirty flick. Sex is fine enough, as long as it doesn't mess up your hair. For you, sex is more about power and favors than actually pleasure.

The weather was sunny today. Not too cold, not too hot and the humidity was at the lowest levels for the season. Even Barbara couldn’t deny that it was a beautiful day. Watching the sea from her balcony, she smiled and took a big breath. Ah, the smell of the Mediterranean! The whole place smelled of sea, spices and summer.

“Dinah, you don’t know what you’re missing,” Barbara smiled and took a sip from her tea. The temperature was over 76f but the tea went down smoothly. It was a local mix with herbals and spices. The first time Barbara taste it, she could swear that the people here were crazy! It was too hot outside for such spicy drink, but as the days went by she got used to.

A lonely cloud hid the sun for a minute. Barbara closed her eyes. She could get used living here. Away from Gotham’s cold winters. She opened her eyes; the sun once again was bright in the sky. Away from her family and friends.

Nah!


Muse: Barbara Gordon
Fandom: DCU
Words: 174
(OOC Note: This is an AU prompt.)

She didn’t know why she bought it; smoking wasn’t a hobby of hers. Sure from time to time she could steal a cig from her father’s pack, but she wasn’t a smoker. Not like her father was. Nasty thing, if you asked her. She never understood why people claimed to smoke when they were nervous for something.

Until she came here, three days ago. Now she knows why. Smoking is a way to do something while you’re waiting. Killing yourself slowly because there is a possibility that the news you’re about to hear do just that, only faster. She’s not afraid of death, not anymore. She faced death before, she knows what to expect.

Taking out some rolling paper, she laid down a line of Turkish tobacco (she just had to do something with her hands) and twisted herself a cig. What would her father said if he could see her now? Would he be angry? Would he understand? Well, her father wasn’t here and he didn’t know where she was in the first place. And her smoking would be the least of his problems if…

Yeah, if. If the doctor had good news for her. Barbara doubted it. Still she was here, waiting for something. Chain-smoking because she had decided to pull a ‘Bruce’ and tell no one where she was going. Or why she was going to Tel Aviv. Although her destination was a clue. That’s why she kept it secret; she didn’t want to give them (her dad, Dick, Dinah) false hopes.

She rolled another cig. She hadn’t finished the last one, but she had to do something while she waited. Or else she would go mad with agony. Why she agreed to come in the first place? Why she was doing that to herself? Why he had to shot her?

 Frustrated she tossed the half-smoked cig down. You should be smarter than this Barbara. Her phone rang. You never stopped hoping, did you? She answered it.

 “Miss Gordon?” The voice had a thick accent. “The doctor is ready to see you now.”  



Barbara Gordon
DCU/Batman
346