Post by Deleted on May 31, 2014 11:28:19 GMT -5
Head spinning and completely hysterical, Barbara Gordon deserted her motorcycle in an alley, ripped the key out of the ignition before she made a sudden sprint toward the other side of town. Still adorned in her Batgirl costume, tears streamed down the redheads face as she ran toward the one place she could consider home; the Batcave. Not bothering to wipe the tears away, she simply ran with her head racing, the image of her brutally mutilated best friend still burned in her photographic memory. The redhead nearly blacked out as she ran absent-mindedly, rage bubbling inside her as she approached her location. She played the scene over and over again in her head, wondering what she could have done to stop it. Barbara felt foolish from her previous actions, fully aware that she should have valued her training from Bruce rather than going rouge and indulging on such a mission by herself. The bat communicator was there the entire time. Her team and considered Bat family was a simple call away and yet she neglected it. What the hell was she doing anymore?
In such a trance that she hadn’t even bothered to check if she was being followed, Babs entered the Batcave stumbling. She couldn’t even begin to recall how long she had been running, but she collapsed on the hard floor sobbing. Ripping her mask of her face, she threw it unceremoniously to the other side of the room. Time had flown and though she was unaware of it, it was quickly nearing midnight. She didn’t expect anyone to be around at this time, especially seeing as the Bats flew at night. This seemed like the only place she could go and release her anger. If she were to go home, her father would hear her cries and assume something was wrong.
Barbara pounded the floor, releasing a scream of anguish as she replayed her friend’s death over and over in her clouded head. Covered in a thin layer of sweat from her extensive run, she began to peel herself out of her suit, allowing her freckled skin to breath. She only pulled it past her midriff, revealing her heaving chest that was tightly concealed in a thin sports bra as she continued her dramatic episode. Everything that happened that evening could have been prevented. The capture of one useless goon who was sure to withhold from any information was hardly even a small victory at that. She was embarrassed, ashamed and ultimately full of guilt. She couldn’t shake the image of Jule’s lifeless eyes from her head.
outfit: batsuit
notes: so dramatic!