Post by Barbara Gordon on Oct 28, 2009 22:46:03 GMT -5
I'm not a dream but I'm supreme and if ya
Listen to the sky you see what I mean
When it rains outside, people run and hide
I walk the streets and start to pry
[/center]
Character's Name:
Barbara “Babs” Gordon
Nicknames: Babs, Barb, Barbie, Barbie-Doll, The Masked Maiden, BATGIRL.
Age
Seventeen.
Birthday:
June 3
Birthplace/Hometown:
Canton, Ohio.
Gender:
Female
Occupation:
Library Research Assistant at Gotham Public Library.
Crime Fighter.
Ethnicity:
Caucasian – Scots/Irish
Physical Profile (height, build, weight, style of dress,hair color, eye color, skin tone etc.):
Build and Height: Barbara is a slim girl. She has a better figure than a pre-pubescent boy, but neither does she resemble a pin-up. But her slenderness is attractive on her, and as a young woman, we wouldn’t expect her to be wide in the hips. She is average in height, at 5’6’’, and weighs 126 pounds.
Complexion: She has very pale, smooth skin, with a few moles here and there on her body, but no freckles. She wants to get a tattoo of a bat someday, but so far has been unable to convince her Uncle to let her.
Eyes: Barbara has blueish green eyes, that are truly blue, but in certain lights appear green because the blue is not very deep. As with many people with her color eyes, though they do not change color truly, they can appear different depending on the light and her clothing.
Hair: Barbara is a redhead, although her hair is not flaming red in the manner of Poison Ivy. More of a soft, brownish red better suited to her delicate coloring. Slightly wavy, she keeps her hair long, with slightly shorter layers around her face, and her hair always falls in soft waves around her head unless she physically straightens it. Her hair is also thick, and she wears it down unless she is Batgirl at the moment, when she puts it in a ponytail.
Face: Babs has an oval face, with high, rounded cheekbones and an upturned nose. Her forehead is average sized, and her lips are pink and form a Cupid’s bow on the top.
Style of Dress: She enjoys wearing comfortable clothing that she can move around in, usually a floating skirt for her job at the library, or a nice worn-in pair of jeans for every other occasion (barring formal events of course). She loves to wear vintage t-shirts when she can, and lazes around the house in oversized tank-tops. Her “costume” involves a tight spandex suit in black, with yellow accents, modeled heavily after Batman’s own outfit, fitted for a female. She loves this costume, it makes her feel strong and alive.
Personality:
• Barbara is a generally no frills type of person. She will tell you straight-up if you need to go back in the house and change before she’ll be seen in public with you, and if you have broccoli in your teeth, she’ll give you a heads-up so you don’t start talking to that hot boy/girl with your nasty dirty teeth.
• Barbara is an idealist. She has her morals and will stick to them no matter what the circumstance, and she will never back down from a fight, even when she knows she can’t win, just to make her point and stand her ground.
• She is also a very smart girl. Being a genius, she knows this, and doesn’t bother to hide her intelligence unless you happen to be a bad guy she’d like to dupe.
• She has an uncanny way of knowing when people are yanking her chain, and she’ll call you out on your bullshit. If you tell her the truth, she’ll generally let it go almost instantly instead of pressing you for the real answer until she gets it.
• Despite whatever sage wisdom she may or may not have to provide, she’s not nearly as patient as you might think. She hates sitting around or having nothing to do, except for certain situations. But in general, she simply hates doing nothing and waiting around for the fun or the work to start.
• Barbara is a defensive person. Which makes her slightly hypocritical, because she calls people on their bull all the time, but when someone catches her in it, she denies it. She’ll defend her actions even when she knows she’s being full of it. And she’s still slightly depressed about her parents dying, although she doesn’t want anyone to know.
• Barbara is passionate about life. Her work. Fighting crime. Her friends and family. She throws herself headlong into the things she loves and doesn’t hold back. She’ll occasionally do this to the point of stupidity.
• Despite her caution, Barbara is a romantic kind of girl. Too much mush is a bad thing, but she has a certain set of things that make her melt like butter. And she wants to find her own fractured fairy tale, but so far it’s been all fracture.
• With attractive guys, she can be a flirt and lead people on without meaning to. She calls it a series of “tests” to see if she wants to risk getting involved. But she really just enjoys the back and forth banter.
• Barbara loves her family, and that kind of relationship means the world to her. She hates the idea of being alone in the world with no one to care about her, and she wants a family of her own eventually, once her life settles down some from the fast-paced world of being a hero.
• But frankly, she can be damned difficult. She’s a complicated girl to figure out, and she sometimes will be stubborn and not go along with what you want to do just for the sheer sake of doing so. Apparently its fun to occasionally be a pain in the ass.
What Side Is Your Character On?[/b]
Hero
Background and History:
Barbara was born on June 3rd, to Roger C. Gordon, and Thelma Gordon, in Canton, Ohio. As a small child, she was constantly torn between the dancing lessons her mother wanted her to take, and the action figures that her father encouraged. She was fascinated with super heroes from the time she knew what they were, and always dreamed of donning a costume and fighting evil-doers. She and her childhood best friend, Marcy, spent hours upon hours coming up with hero identities and costumes, and pretending to be saving the world. She never grew out of this enthusiasm, and still wants nothing more than to fight crime and do good. Her mother was a kind, gentle woman, who loved telling her daughter stories and singing her to sleep. Barbara can still hear the voice of her mother singing oldies songs to put her to sleep when she wasn’t feeling well. Her father, on the other hand, was a drunk. He had a drinking problem for as long as she could remember, and while he never hurt her or her mother, he had an unnerving tendency to drive home intoxicated. Barbara always worried about him, but believed her mother when she said everything would be okay.
Shortly after Barbara’s thirteenth birthday, both of her parents were killed in a car crash, because her father was driving drunk again. She was devastated at the loss, and had no one to blame, which tortured her. She was taken to a youth counselor, but started to hide whenever it was time for her appointment, unable to talk to a stranger about her feelings on the issue. Halfway across the country, her Uncle James and Aunt (whose name, strangely enough was also Barbara) Barb, adopted her and became her new parents. She’d always loved her Police Commissioner Uncle, and was glad at least that she had family to live with instead of strangers. Immediately upon arrival in Gotham City, Barbara heard stories about the resident crime fighter, Batman. She had found a new hero.
She spent hours upon hours doing research and listening to people, and learning everything that she could about the caped crusader. One night, at their home, she overheard voices as she was sneaking downstairs to get a drink without waking up her Aunt and Uncle, and the voices were coming from her Uncle’s home office. She peeked inside and saw him talking to none other than Batman! She was thrilled to learn that her Uncle worked with the Dark Knight, and her obsession grew. She insisted that she be allowed to take martial arts classes, and her Uncle relented. She began to study karate and self-defense, earning a black belt in record time. She also studied juijitsu with her sensei, Dragoncat. Three years after coming to Gotham City, she graduated from Gotham Heights High School at sixteen. Her photographic memory and genius-level intellect made sure that she graduated with top grades, and got a full scholarship to Gotham State University.
As one of the youngest students on record to attend GSU, Barbara graduated in almost unheard of time, and graduated with honors before even becoming a legal adult. After graduation, she took a job at Gotham Public Library as a research assistant, and she loves it. The vast amount of information at her disposal is like a drug to Babs. But naturally, this was not what she wanted to do with her life. She still wanted to be a crime fighter. She asked her adoptive father (Uncle James) to let her join the police academy, but he just joked that she wouldn’t even meet the height requirement. The FBI gave her the same treatment, much to Barbara’s fury and dismay.
But scarcely a few nights later, the Gotham City Police Department hosted the Million Dollar Masquerade Ball at the Bristol Country Club. As the Commissioner’s daughter, she was of course going to be there. She decided to sew a costume in homage of her hero, Batman, coming up with a stylish, feminized version of the yellow and black uniform, based on some of her childhood designs. She didn’t really want to go to the party, but she wanted to spite her dad, and this was the perfect opportunity. However, when she got there, someone else had already crashed the swanky party. Killer Moth and his henchmen had taken Bruce Wayne hostage and were trying to rob and extort hundreds of thousands of dollars. Dressed as Batgirl, Barbara felt an obligation to do something about the situation, and tackled Killer Moth without hesitation, hoping to rescue Bruce Wayne. While Bruce Wayne (seemingly) got to safety, Barbara was at the mercy of Killer Moth, and needed saving herself. The criminals had to be let go in order for her to be released alive, earning Barbara a harsh reprimand from Batman for being a foolish, reckless child.
She was saddened and shocked to hear those words from her idol, but she was far too stubborn and determined to be dissuaded. She was going to continue on this path no matter what, no matter what challenges she was faced with along the way. She’d gotten this far, right? Recently, Barbara has been receiving Batarangs from Dick Grayson, and she’s looking into his connection to Batman, to discover how he came to be passing her now beloved possessions on to her. She has not given up her physical and mental training, and has updated her computer to allow her to hack into almost any system to access the knowledge she desires.
Family:
Father: Roger Gordon
Mother: Thelma Gordon
Adoptive Father/Uncle: James Gordon
Adoptive Mother/Aunt: Barbara Gordon
Cousin: James Gordon, Jr.
Any Special Abilities?
Photographic Memory
Genius-level Intellect (Computers)
Expert Computer Hacker
Martial Arts – black belt in Dragon-style kung fu, proficient in stick fighting, boxing, and juijitsu.
Above Average Strength – Strong as a woman her age who engages in intense exercise on a regular basis. Not superhuman, but nothing to sneeze at either, for someone her size.
Pets:
Does her motorcycle count? Kidding. She has a female Doberman Pinscher that is relatively small for her breed, named Pip (short for Pipistrelle, a small type of bat).
Name of Play By:
Rachel Hurd-Wood
Example Role Play:
Taken from a private roleplay with a friend:
Sebastien hated what he did, but he considered it the lesser of two evils. Either he killed this man, or that man raped and most likely killed the girl. Probably in the most gruesome way his pathetic brain could come up with. Men such as that weren’t generally known for their overwhelming intelligence, after all. Or, usually, their looks. It was a bad situation on all counts. These were the kinds of men that Sebastien had despised even in life, for their ignorance and their coarseness. He didn’t begrudge someone a lack of knowledge, but common decency was another matter altogether. But, he was sure that this was yet another paving stone on his path to hell, if his unnatural life were ever to end. For saving the girl’s life, he was willing to risk it. He was damned no matter what. Of course he would have helped her, human or no. This just made it that much easier.
He realized that the girl hadn’t moved an inch, and was standing there staring at him, shaking like a leaf. Her pants had been pulled to her knees (no doubt they would have progressed further in short order if he hadn’t gotten there when he did), and her shirt was sliced down the front, he assumed with the knife that he’d knocked out of the man’s hand. Son of a bitch. If the man hadn’t been dead already, Sebastien probably would have killed him again. Just so that he got the message. But there was a dark part of his mind that still thought he ought to have drained the man, slowly. Made it as painful as possible to exact a sort of sick vengeance on the girl’s behalf for what he would have done to her. That was the monster talking, not the remnants of the man. But these days it seemed like the monster was winning more and more of the internal battles.
The girl was staring at him still. He could feel her eyes – such wonderful eyes – boring into him. He could sense the rapid, bird-like flutter of her heart thudding against the inside of her ribcage. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. And when he glanced at the gash on her chest, he could see her pulse in the hollow of her neck, the artery pulsing under the skin, blood rushing through her veins. He had to steel himself against the alluring blood. He had yet to feed tonight, and he could sense that her blood would be intoxicating. But her eyes, her posture, her heartbeat, all of these things made it quite clear that she was afraid of him. It was practically rolling off of her in waves. Sebastien wanted to tell her that it was alright now, that she was safe, that she had nothing to worry about, but he would be lying. He had no intention of harming her of his own volition, but even being in his presence when he wasn’t at one-hundred percent could turn out deadly. His control had slipped before, with fatal consequences, and he knew that it could happen again.
He was glad when the girl pulled the torn halves of her shirt together to cover herself. Pulling up her jeans was another good move. Although he knew that she would need to go to the hospital – she needed a doctor, even if just for that cut. Sebastien didn’t know very much about injuries… the last time he’d had one that hadn’t healed almost instantly it had been well past two hundred years ago, and medicine had been little more than butchery and witch-doctoring disguised as healing. Modern medicine was much less dangerous for its patients. He turned to go, intent on getting away from this alley, and dissociating himself with the murdered body lying in the dumpster, when he heard the girl’s small, trembling voice. He froze in his tracks, that little frightened sound giving him pause. He wanted nothing more than to be able to help this girl who reminded him so much of Angelique. But in doing so he’d only be endangering her further. It was still probably best that he leave as soon as possible. “No, I am not,” he said, reaching a hand up to run it through his unruly brown hair. His hair grew inhumanly fast, which he had never understood. But it was almost time for a haircut – the ends of his mane nearly touched his shoulders.
Sebastien saw her crane her neck, trying to see him better. With his hand still in his hair he pushed his bangs off of his face, allowing the little bit of light filtering in from the street to hit the side of his face – not direct enough to betray his eyes, but enough that even the girl’s normal mortal eyes should be able to make out his features. If she for some reason decided to turn him in to the police, he would just move until the situation blew over. Nothing he hadn’t done before, in his less discreet early days. “Are you alright?” he asked, knowing that the cut on her chest had to be stinging, and she was probably sore from being pushed against the wall. He could fix that cut… no. No he could not. That would be like opening Pandora ’s Box. It wasn’t fatal by any stretch of the imagination, so she would just have to see a doctor about that one. She shivered, but this time not from fear. He couldn’t imagine that she would be cold, not on a night like this. He would have offered her his jacket, but he was only wearing a light shirt and an undershirt, and while he could give that to her, he’d rather not walk around the city only in a white undershirt. Even though he was perfectly able to get back to his house unseen to get another shirt. And it was only the right thing to do…
Shaking his head to himself, Sebastien undid the first few buttons of his shirt, nodding to the girl. “I don’t want to threaten you…” – that much was true – “… but you can’t tell anyone that you saw me tonight. Here – “ he offered her his dark blue cotton shirt. It was clean, and unripped, and would serve her better than the one she was trying so hard to hold closed over her breasts. “Take it.”
He realized that the girl hadn’t moved an inch, and was standing there staring at him, shaking like a leaf. Her pants had been pulled to her knees (no doubt they would have progressed further in short order if he hadn’t gotten there when he did), and her shirt was sliced down the front, he assumed with the knife that he’d knocked out of the man’s hand. Son of a bitch. If the man hadn’t been dead already, Sebastien probably would have killed him again. Just so that he got the message. But there was a dark part of his mind that still thought he ought to have drained the man, slowly. Made it as painful as possible to exact a sort of sick vengeance on the girl’s behalf for what he would have done to her. That was the monster talking, not the remnants of the man. But these days it seemed like the monster was winning more and more of the internal battles.
The girl was staring at him still. He could feel her eyes – such wonderful eyes – boring into him. He could sense the rapid, bird-like flutter of her heart thudding against the inside of her ribcage. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. And when he glanced at the gash on her chest, he could see her pulse in the hollow of her neck, the artery pulsing under the skin, blood rushing through her veins. He had to steel himself against the alluring blood. He had yet to feed tonight, and he could sense that her blood would be intoxicating. But her eyes, her posture, her heartbeat, all of these things made it quite clear that she was afraid of him. It was practically rolling off of her in waves. Sebastien wanted to tell her that it was alright now, that she was safe, that she had nothing to worry about, but he would be lying. He had no intention of harming her of his own volition, but even being in his presence when he wasn’t at one-hundred percent could turn out deadly. His control had slipped before, with fatal consequences, and he knew that it could happen again.
He was glad when the girl pulled the torn halves of her shirt together to cover herself. Pulling up her jeans was another good move. Although he knew that she would need to go to the hospital – she needed a doctor, even if just for that cut. Sebastien didn’t know very much about injuries… the last time he’d had one that hadn’t healed almost instantly it had been well past two hundred years ago, and medicine had been little more than butchery and witch-doctoring disguised as healing. Modern medicine was much less dangerous for its patients. He turned to go, intent on getting away from this alley, and dissociating himself with the murdered body lying in the dumpster, when he heard the girl’s small, trembling voice. He froze in his tracks, that little frightened sound giving him pause. He wanted nothing more than to be able to help this girl who reminded him so much of Angelique. But in doing so he’d only be endangering her further. It was still probably best that he leave as soon as possible. “No, I am not,” he said, reaching a hand up to run it through his unruly brown hair. His hair grew inhumanly fast, which he had never understood. But it was almost time for a haircut – the ends of his mane nearly touched his shoulders.
Sebastien saw her crane her neck, trying to see him better. With his hand still in his hair he pushed his bangs off of his face, allowing the little bit of light filtering in from the street to hit the side of his face – not direct enough to betray his eyes, but enough that even the girl’s normal mortal eyes should be able to make out his features. If she for some reason decided to turn him in to the police, he would just move until the situation blew over. Nothing he hadn’t done before, in his less discreet early days. “Are you alright?” he asked, knowing that the cut on her chest had to be stinging, and she was probably sore from being pushed against the wall. He could fix that cut… no. No he could not. That would be like opening Pandora ’s Box. It wasn’t fatal by any stretch of the imagination, so she would just have to see a doctor about that one. She shivered, but this time not from fear. He couldn’t imagine that she would be cold, not on a night like this. He would have offered her his jacket, but he was only wearing a light shirt and an undershirt, and while he could give that to her, he’d rather not walk around the city only in a white undershirt. Even though he was perfectly able to get back to his house unseen to get another shirt. And it was only the right thing to do…
Shaking his head to himself, Sebastien undid the first few buttons of his shirt, nodding to the girl. “I don’t want to threaten you…” – that much was true – “… but you can’t tell anyone that you saw me tonight. Here – “ he offered her his dark blue cotton shirt. It was clean, and unripped, and would serve her better than the one she was trying so hard to hold closed over her breasts. “Take it.”
Password?
-admin edit-