Barbara Gordon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bodilesswarrior) wrote2015-04-14 02:10 pm
bodilesswarrior) wrote2015-04-14 02:10 pm
Backdated to 12th
[Video]
[Barbara's in a familiar outfit - a thick dark body suit, festooned with straps and holsters and pouches. This time, though, there are symbols engraved into the fabric.
She gestures to them with a free hand; the other is busy at her keyboard. She barely looks at the screen as she goes through her files.]
It seems like our crisis has a magical component. [A slight grimace, more frustrated than anything. Magic is unpredictable, in ways that get people killed.] Not really my area, but I worked with Arthas to incorporate defensive magic into regular body armour. It won't hurt the things, but it repels them, at least until you can go on the offensive or run the hell away. [Yes, she tested it. That's why her shoulder is a bit charred.] I can do it for anything you have.
If you don't have anything defensive - or offensive, for that matter - I can give it to you. Has anyone pinpointed any weaknesses so far? [Another gesture, rough and vexed, towards the words on her screen.] They don't match anything I've got, not completely.
[Private to Friends/Family/Infuriating Inmate]
Check in. Please. [There's an edge of desperate worry to the words, now. She feels better in the midst of a crisis, but not if it costs her more of her people.]
[Spam]
[When she's not in her room, carving runes into modern armour or sharpening old weapons or crafting new ones, she's patrolling the halls. She's cautious, careful to keep her guard up and anticipate escape routes; for all her skill, she's just a woman against monsters.
But there's too much she doesn't know, and one of the better ways of finding out it investigating herself. And there are people far more vulnerable than she is.
She keeps her sticks in her lap, holding a batarang in each hand. (One electrocutes; the other freezes.) Far as she can figure, they're her best bet for effectiveness; if not, she has a lot of backups.]
[Barbara's in a familiar outfit - a thick dark body suit, festooned with straps and holsters and pouches. This time, though, there are symbols engraved into the fabric.
She gestures to them with a free hand; the other is busy at her keyboard. She barely looks at the screen as she goes through her files.]
It seems like our crisis has a magical component. [A slight grimace, more frustrated than anything. Magic is unpredictable, in ways that get people killed.] Not really my area, but I worked with Arthas to incorporate defensive magic into regular body armour. It won't hurt the things, but it repels them, at least until you can go on the offensive or run the hell away. [Yes, she tested it. That's why her shoulder is a bit charred.] I can do it for anything you have.
If you don't have anything defensive - or offensive, for that matter - I can give it to you. Has anyone pinpointed any weaknesses so far? [Another gesture, rough and vexed, towards the words on her screen.] They don't match anything I've got, not completely.
[Private to Friends/Family/Infuriating Inmate]
Check in. Please. [There's an edge of desperate worry to the words, now. She feels better in the midst of a crisis, but not if it costs her more of her people.]
[Spam]
[When she's not in her room, carving runes into modern armour or sharpening old weapons or crafting new ones, she's patrolling the halls. She's cautious, careful to keep her guard up and anticipate escape routes; for all her skill, she's just a woman against monsters.
But there's too much she doesn't know, and one of the better ways of finding out it investigating herself. And there are people far more vulnerable than she is.
She keeps her sticks in her lap, holding a batarang in each hand. (One electrocutes; the other freezes.) Far as she can figure, they're her best bet for effectiveness; if not, she has a lot of backups.]
Private
Please don't poison anyone.
Private
[A male hand reaches into shot, touching her bare shoulder, and immediately snatches it back with a hiss of pain. Ivy glances up and away.]
Oh, I'm sorry. Don't you people care for verisimilitude?
[There's the brief flicker of a mean smile on her face as she watches him retreat; it remains as she looks back to Barbara.]
I think we can agree that was self-inflicted.
Private
Yeah, I think we can.
So - are they all typical humans in there, as far as you can tell?
Private
Private
There are a lot.]
It's possible the port itself isn't related to this - it's just where you all happened to land.
Re: Private
My apathy knows no bounds. It'll be over in a few days with no consequences for anyone.