High-Octane Shenanigans

Just your average technopathic cyborg. {{A mainly Batman-universe but ultimately multi-fandom OC ask/rp blog. Drop me a line, if you'd like! Links are on the side! Sidebar image courtesy of a fan whose name I will link when I can find it, all other images of Trill are courtesy of yours truely! Yes I realise the sidebar image and the corner image have the eyepatch on opposite sides, the art I got before put her eyepatch on the wrong side and there's nothing I can do about it now ;-;}}

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

{{A stylized picture I drew from the prompt of “If your OC was a mythical creature, what would they be?” I merged her with a phoenix and the textures and colours are based on the song “Flicker” by Lorde.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

Whistling joyfully to herself,  Trillian approached her little electronic shop and flipped the sign to “open” for the first time in months. She was back in business, baby! Of course, she didn't expect any customers (she never had, honestly) it it was nice to finally be back behind the counter after such a long break.

{{We're back, baby!}}

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

This was starting to get frustrating. Whoever this punk was, he was messing with all her hard work. What kind of hacker undermines other hackers? She paused, then shook her head. Any hacker, that’s what kind. Still, it was so annoying to see everything she’d done for the past hour or so get undone before her eyes.

So focused was she on her work, she failed to notice the dim light on her webcam flicker on. What he would see might come to a surprise to him. Bright red hair was the least of the uncommon things about her appearance. An eyepatch covered her left eye, a scar on her right cheek punctuated her freckled face, and as she leaned back and ran a hand through her hair, she would reveal that her left arm was entirely mechanical, all the way up to the shoulder of her dark green tank top. Her remaining eye, oddly enough, seemed to actually pulse with it’s own light, as if it too was robotic. Which, oddly enough, it was.

As the young woman leaned back, she closed her eyes and let out a long sigh before turning her attention back to the screen. “Who are you,” she muttered to herself as she returned to fixing all her links. “Linking to the Arkham security systems?” Trill whistled. “e’s either a genius or an idiot.” She was even happier that she’d taken the time to disguise her IP address. If something like that got back to her, she’d be locked away for sure.

Unfortunately, as she tried to hack him back, she noticed he too had bounced his signal all over the place. “Not a moron, then. Point’s yours, man,” she admitted before taking another sip of her energy drink. “Props to you.” Trill sat back, deciding to sit and wait to see what he did next. That’s when she noticed the light on her webcam was on. Nearly spitting out her drink, Trillian leaned forward and covered the camera with her thumb as she looked around for something else to cover it with. Normally she’d just use her technopathy to shut it down, but with the possibility of somebody watching her, she didn’t want to take the chance.

The LAST thing she needed was to be labeled as some kind of freak. She had a business to run, after all!

[riddlcr-deactivated20210112]

{-?-} — It was almost amusing watching her compliment him without knowing. Although he could have done without the idiot comment. If anyone where to hack into the Arkham database and free them he’d be very grateful to the genius demented enough to do such a thing—- oh wait. Pft, whatever. As if he cared what happen to the inmates or staff at Arkham.       Munching on chips he sat back letting his hands lift off the keyboard and enjoy his work. It only took mere minutes to destroy the hours of labor she put into the coding. He thought it only fair to give her a chance to get back to work before he undid the rest of her work. As he took the time off to relax Edward maximized the window that was hacked into her camera. She was younger than he expected and the wrong gender as well. Not to be sexist or anything but most pretty women didn’t waste their time trying to screw over websites with porn and viruses.       As satisfying as it was having stalked her without realizing it, the expression on her face was ten times more enjoyable. He never was one for staying in the shadows. Instant gratification was more his style. Yet his fun seemed to be over when she covered the camera and secede typing. Feeling a playful mood coming over him, Riddler went back to work decoding the design. Adding a hidden message between the script.                                          I̵ͦ ̒̎̈́̚h͐̀ͫ͋av̵ȅ̂̄̓ͥn̉́́’̴̄̋̈́͆t̵ͨͮͧͫ ͪ̓ͦ̂͆̚a̿̍͑̈́ͭ̉̏ ͨ̆͘n͋̾ͨ̐ͬ͑ͨ͏e̵͆̄e̊̆̾̓ͧͧͤ͝d͟ ͜buͫͯ́t̢ͮ ̽́̚a̅̍ͤ͆͂̇̚l͆ͤ̅͌̂ͦẘ̈́̄ͣͣ̂ā͜y̷ͤ̃̐̆ͪͭsͭ̉͋͝ ̀̎ͨ̍̏̿̆aͥ ̾͋̂ͨ͗wͨ͒̎͆ͯ̚aͧ̓ͯn̢͑ͪͪ̓̿t͋ͭͥ ̭̖̫͉̗̬                                                             W̲͔̲h͈̱a̹̬̫̦t̨̲̱̲͉ ̜̟̜̫̦͚̤à̦̭̜m̦̜͈̻̱͍ ̵̳͍I͡?̬̮

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

Shit, all her tape was in the other room. Trillian did the next best thing and just tilted the camera up. He'd still be able to hear her, but she hardly cared about that. "What are you, some kinda perv?" she asked aloud, huffing and returning to the website. It was awful, just how fast he was able to isolate all her work and mess it up without just deleting the pages entirely.

As the cyborg tried to lock him out of the pages by adding a password to each one , she paused. What was that, in the coding? Was... was that a riddle? She audibly groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I haven't a need but always a want... I don't know, greed? Do abstract concepts count as answers?" She knew he could hear her, so she didn't bother typing the answer back in coding.

Of course, she could always try to google the answer, but where was the fun in that.

"Or is it a sarcastic riddle looking for a sarcastic answer, like politician? What's even the point of this? What, you gonna call me names if I can't get it right?"

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

{{The cyborg gets ready for winter}}

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

Aggressive tapping could be heard in the apartment of a miss Trillian Smith, as she sipped at her energy drink and navigated around firewalls and security measures of a pretty big site. It was the official site of the county, in fact, and someone thought it’d be a good idea to break into the site and mess around a bit.

Actually, two people thought it would be a good idea, but they wouldn’t realise it until it was too late.

There was a quite tchk as another can of Monster was opened, and she moved files around, editing the links so they spelled out her pseudonym. It wasn’t the most creative one, for sure, but it was unique among her fellow hackers.

"Pix3ls", the links proclaimed, all of which led to various pages. Porn sites, virus downloads, compromising pictures of the mayor posted on some small-time blog that would certainly blow up as people investigated the site.

Something was… something was off, though. As she was editing, it seemed someone else was messing around with the site as well. “Excuse me?” she muttered to herself, watching whoever this was begin his own little masterpiece as she tried to do her own. This could end badly, especially if she hadn’t had the foresight to run her IP through various proxies. Whoever this was, she didn’t want her work to be connected to his at all, but it was too late to remove all her influence. Oh well, she’d just have to keep working at it and hopefully he wouldn’t undo anything she did. It was too late to back out now.

[riddlcr-deactivated20210112]

{-?-} — Riddler was having a less than enjoyment filled day. He had manage to escape Arkham but it wasn’t like that ever provided him a challenge. Sometimes it took days before the staff realized that he was even missing. It wasn’t much of a stretch to call them all simple minded fools, yet who wasn’t in Gotham? Which brought him to the disappointing funk he found himself in. In his fast pace life style, Edward had very little time to actually stop and think abut what he’s doing with his life.       Ten years. Its been a decade since he don the mask and question marks becoming an iconic rouge and yet it feels like such a short time span from when he was hacking government sites for pure entertainment and not work. Maybe it was nostalgic or the head injuries he received from a clown during lock down but he wanted to walk down memory path just once.        It didn’t take him long to gather what he needed; a bag of chips, couple slightly dented soda cans, and a stolen laptop. Plopping into on a bean bang he chuckled his knuckles the cliche way shown in movies before diving into work. It wasn’t by pure luck he happen to come across the same site she was on. When looking for a prime target he noticed the tweaks she had made for the site and decided to do a little of his own.       Since this was for pure fun he didn’t feel the need to put his trademark icon on his work, of course he made sure to bounce his signal off as many satiates as possible, no need for a nosy bat. As she continued to work, he did his part of unraveling her efforts, rerouting links, creating hot button catches that could sent off the alarms of Arkham, hacking into her webcam to get a better idea of who his amateur hacker was.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

This was starting to get frustrating. Whoever this punk was, he was messing with all her hard work. What kind of hacker undermines other hackers? She paused, then shook her head. Any hacker, that's what kind. Still, it was so annoying to see everything she'd done for the past hour or so get undone before her eyes.

So focused was she on her work, she failed to notice the dim light on her webcam flicker on. What he would see might come to a surprise to him. Bright red hair was the least of the uncommon things about her appearance. An eyepatch covered her left eye, a scar on her right cheek punctuated her freckled face, and as she leaned back and ran a hand through her hair, she would reveal that her left arm was entirely mechanical, all the way up to the shoulder of her dark green tank top. Her remaining eye, oddly enough, seemed to actually pulse with it's own light, as if it too was robotic. Which, oddly enough, it was.

As the young woman leaned back, she closed her eyes and let out a long sigh before turning her attention back to the screen. "Who are you," she muttered to herself as she returned to fixing all her links. "Linking to the Arkham security systems?" Trill whistled. "e's either a genius or an idiot." She was even happier that she'd taken the time to disguise her IP address. If something like that got back to her, she'd be locked away for sure.

Unfortunately, as she tried to hack him back, she noticed he too had bounced his signal all over the place. "Not a moron, then. Point's yours, man," she admitted before taking another sip of her energy drink. "Props to you." Trill sat back, deciding to sit and wait to see what he did next. That's when she noticed the light on her webcam was on. Nearly spitting out her drink, Trillian leaned forward and covered the camera with her thumb as she looked around for something else to cover it with. Normally she'd just use her technopathy to shut it down, but with the possibility of somebody watching her, she didn't want to take the chance.

The LAST thing she needed was to be labeled as some kind of freak. She had a business to run, after all!

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

I'm sick.

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I know I'm sick.

I'm too scared to go to a doctor, too scared they'll turn me in to the FBI or somethin' because I'm a freak of nature. I can't get diagnosed, but what if I'm dying?

I haven't been able to gain any weight since I lost my parents. I've been getting skinnier and skinnier, and I feel like I'm wasting away into nothing.

Today I noticed I can see my ribs.

I've no breasts to speak of, no arm flab, no belly at all. No muscle either. It's not as if I don't work out, but nothing I do seems to stick. It's like my body's eating me alive.

I'm terrified.

Terrified that some day soon, I'll be dead because I don't know what's wrong with me.

I've tried everything I could get my hands on but nothing's helped.

I've googled everything I can.

What is it, depression? I got over their deaths a long time ago. Some sort of disease? Cancer?

I don't think of myself as sad, in fact I like to think I'm always in a great mood.

Well, as often as anyone else anyway.

But every night when I go home, I see myself dying. Wasting away into nothing.

Someday, I'll lose so much of myself that I'll cease to exist.

I don't understand why models strive to be so small. I can't understand why anyone would starve themselves to be this thin. It feels awful, everything I do sucks the life outta me. It's hard carrying my metal limbs around, you know? The legs do just fine but the arm just always aches to high hell.

I'm dying, I know it.

And there ain't anything I can do to get help.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

"YESSSSSSSSS," the girl proclaimed in victory as she eradicated the last of humanity on her game. "BATMAN WINS AGAIN! TAKE THAT, PEASANTS!" Trillian had a habit of naming all the diseases she made after people in Gotham, just so she could have a small laugh when it said things like ‘scientists working on a cure to eradicate Batman’ and things like that. Besides, the guy had saved her life a few days ago. It was the least she could do to name a fatal parasite after him.

Read More

[circus-bird]

Dick couldn’t help but chuckle at he red-headed girl at the counter as she tried to guess what he needed help with. “Heh. Well the twenty-something was right but everything else, not so much.” He said shrugging the backpack off all the way to place it on the counter. “And I can promise you it’s not a bomb either, so you don’t need to worry about that.” He said with a playful smirk.

"It’s my brother’s laptop." He started as he unzipped the bag and pulled out the laptop. "I’m not really sure what’s wrong with it, but he said something about bad software and a messed up hard drive. Oh! Ah, here, he gave me this explain exactly what he found wrong with it." He said reaching into his back pocket and pulled out the list of faults that Tim had gave him and handed it towards the girl.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

"Hey, if it's not a bomb then I can prolly fix it, man." She gave him a reassuring grin as she took the piece of paper and looked it over. "Bad software and a messed up hard drive, yeh? Alright, I can fix that up in no time. If the hard drive has to be replaced, it's gonna take about an hour or so to move everything to a new hard drive, which'll cost anywhere from like 20 to 200, depending on what kind he has. Don't worry though, I'm guessing for this laptop it'll prolly be around 70 max. And again, that's only if it has to be replaced. Not to toot my own horn but I'm preeeeeeeetty sure I can repair it. And the software's a simple fix, nothing a few scans or a careful un/reinstall won't take care of."

The cyborg flipped the laptop over and started unscrewing the base to get at the insides of the machine. "You can hang around the shop and chat or just look for stuff or whatever, or go get a bite to eat, it should be done in no time."

[jervisandangel-deactivated20170]

Oh, what a day!

Plans had fallen through left and right for the Hatter. What was simply supposed to be a quick pick up of electronics turned out to be a bust. The police had expected a young blonde girl to be in Jervis’ hands as they set up a sting that was meant to, at the very least, recover the missing girl.

What they hadn’t expected though, was the mob of mind controlled puppets in place of one Katelyn Archer.

Jervis didn’t even have the girl, but he was out of Arkham and she was young and blonde. Probably a teenage runaway, but it didn’t matter where she really was anymore. The girl was not with him. He’d need to rebuild Wonderland before putting Alice in it, and this drop was supposed to be the way to get it all done. He had used the last of his materials to create the dozen or so chips that had his puppets dancing around for this particular job.

A few were caught in the crossfire as the police were quick to bring out their weapons. If the girl wasn’t there, then they had no reason not to be open firing. But Jervis managed to slip out with a handful of his goons and in order to hide from the growing police force, they ended up inside a small repair shop.

Not just any repair shop, an electronic repair shop. Jervis smiled, and the few guards that were left with him, 5 or 6 that there were, stood at attention, directing their guns at the one behind the counter.

"Well, this is rather convenient."

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

Trillian whistled as she played a game on her tablet, some busybody game called “Plague Inc” where she worked to eradicate the entirety of the human race. Typical stuff. Right now, her parasitic disease was named “The GCPD” due to the bastards not having come to help her very fast when she’d been shot a few days prior. The world was on edge of collapse, and she was just a couple of minutes away from the eradication of mankind. 

Read More

[jervisandangel-deactivated20170]

The Hatter stood in the middle of the seemingly random group of thugs, just watching the woman speak. Gotham mentality, as usual. Roll your eyes at the Rogues until they break you. No fear, no real reaction other than ‘again?!?!?’

Jervis was usually not particularly recognizable. His size was usually the one thing that would give him away when he wasn’t in costume. But even being relatively short didn’t make him the most noticeable Rogue. Compared to someone like Killer Croc, or the Joker, he could blend in pretty well.

Tonight though, he wasn’t trying to hide. The thugs might not have been dressed up like rabbits or cards, but he looked like the Hatter. Wonderland was supposed to be beginning construction tonight, why wouldn’t he want to look like he belonged there?

He brought himself closer to the woman, knowing full well she must have had some sort of weapon behind that counter of hers.

"Oh no, if I wanted money I’d have gone to the bank." Not that Jervis ever needed money. He was more like to just put a chip on someone’s head and get them to do whatever he wanted. It was much more effective that way, and then he could really trust his goons not to be anywhere but on his side. Hired help could betray you, but mindless help?

He wondered if the woman knew who he was. Even if she didn’t, she’d be able to tell that the thugs didn’t have minds of their own, they stood still in the spot that they were instructed, with blank eyes and a glassy view. They wouldn’t move until Jervis said so.

"I’m terribly sorry for your…. Issues with typical thugs. But I had a deal that went rather sour, thanks to the GCPD’s poor deduction skills. No, I need technology. Anything and everything that I can reconstruct to control the mind." He said with a cracked smile, touching his hat.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

This guy's men, they seemed... wrong. Empty. What was he doing to them? Mind control? The fuck was this, a sci-fi novel? It took her a minute for her to recognise him, and she leaned against the counter behind her and ran a hand through her hair.

"Oh.... Oh, alright, I get it. Mind-control, okay, sure. I can help, yeah, whatever." There was fear in her eyes now, for sure, if only because something like this might make her lose her business.

"Judging by the guns you're toting, I guess this is gonna be free work, right? Free parts for you to make people into puppets, no, yeah, that's fair, whatever mate. It's either that or let the last owner of this business die before she gets a chance to even write a will though, ey? Guess that's what my assisstant's for."

Oh god, what would someone even use to control someone's mind? Radios? Did she still sell radios? Yeah, yeah she did. "Alright, no problem, I've got this." Trillian kept her hands up as she moved to the back of the store, grabbing some of the more powerful radios and taking them back to the counter. "Alright, radios, uh... Look man, I don't even know what all goes into a mind control device. Radio waves I could see tweaking to coincide with someone's brainwaves, but other than that I don't think I'm gonna be much help otherwise. You need like a laptop or something, Hatter? To program 'em? We building a base from scratch or what? And how many people are we talking? These radios'll have enough parts for like... five people at most, but I might have more in the back if you need more."

To be perfectly honest, this is something she'd thought about a lot before. She just never actually thought about /doing/ it.

"You need to hack any more than like fifteen people and I'll have to order more, or you'll have to settle for the weaker radios. God, I don't think I've even got enough to order too many more..." The cyborg did her best not to let her eyes tear up, but the thought of losing her business was killing her inside. This was the business her deceased fathers had started, how did they even take care of things like this? God, she was such a failure.

But what would the Mad Hatter care? Criminals didn't give a flying fuck about the lives of a victim. It was always all about them. Mow down whoever you need to make it to the top.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

{{Replies to come later in the day, I'm actually doing things today for a change! Like if I still owe you a starter, or if I haven't responded to your ask discussion!}}

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

Trill’s eye turned from the entertainers to the woman next to her, and a warm smile crossed her features. “You must be the owner,” she mused. “Or just a very dedicated guest, if you buy everyone’s first drinks.” Her smile widened and she held her non-robotic hand out to the lady. “My name’s Trillian, but you can call me Trill.”

It had been a long time since she’d had to formally introduce herself to anyone. She felt intimidated by the lady, honestly, not just because she was presumibly in charge of the club but also because she had to be older than Trill and Trillian always did her best to show respect for her elders, even if they couldn’t have been more than a few years older than her.

"I just kinda wanted a night away from home, this week’s been awful and a girl can only handle so much before she needs a break, you know?"

[badtownforaprettyface-deactivat]

"Ah, you caught me, I’m the owner of Siren’s Club. I like to know my customers, and drinks help with that." She admitted with a warm smile before waving over the bartender and ordering a simple glass of scotch for herself. "Deirdre." She shook Trill’s hand. "Lovely to meet you, Trill."

"I understand exactly what you mean." It was currently how Deirdre felt her self, she was tempted to take a day off tomorrow and let Lu handle the club, but she couldn’t do that.

"Tell me, what could be stressing out one so young?" She asked, leaning back in her chair, taking a drink. "Surely it isn’t work? You should be doing what you like at your age."

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

"It's nice to meet you too, Deirdre." Her smile faded at the woman's question, running a hand through her hair. Where did she even begin?

"I /am/ doing what I like, trust me. Heck, it's all I know. But this week's just been exceptionally awful, you know? I got robbed by some goon, said he's with one of those crazies I'm always hearing about on the news. He shot me and I can barely afford the hospital bills that brought on, and business has just been so bad lately. I've hardly got people even visiting the shop."

The cyborg took a sip of her drink, then gave a small shrug. "I realise it's 'cuz I've got these robot parts and all, but still. I hate that people can't just... Iunno, accept that I'm different, right? It's messed up. What, am I supposed to live as a one-armed no-legged chick? How would that even work?"

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

The text on your blog is really hard to see! Those colors are not very visible on a black background

{{Alright, I think I fixed it! Someone let me know if it's okay now!

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

The Siren’s Call.

It was a club she’d heard a lot about but never actually taken the time to investigate. Fortunately, after a week consisting of such pleasantries as a robbery, getting shot, and one of her employees going missing, she finally had reason enough to go to someplace she could relax at.

Donning a green dress that covered her robotic legs but did nothing to hide her remaining robotic limb, she made her way inside. Her eyes flitted over the people around the room, having pleasant conversations and enjoying the entertainment. Would the people here care that there was a cyborg in their midst? Would she get kicked out? Or were they only concerned that she had the money to afford her drinks and such? People in Gotham were awfully judgemental at times, and it was hard to find places that would let her in without staring or muttering at her.

The redhead took a seat at the bar, ordering herself a Jack Rose as she cast her gaze upon whatever the entertainment was for the evening. In retrospect, it would have been a better idea to come here with someone, but the woman didn’t have very many friends. Hence why the 23-year-old chose to come here instead of whatever club most kids her age were hanging out at.

[badtownforaprettyface-deactivat]

Deirdre sat in the back office, her eyes glancing over the many papers in front of her. Some bills, some complaints, all things she had to take care of. She loved her job, but she loathed the paperwork. Hearing a light knock, she glanced up at the door, seeing her assistant manager standing there. “Yes?”

"There’s been a complaint." He commented, fidgeting in the doorway.

"What about?"

"The customers don’t like a girl who walked in, they say she’s…being a disruption." Sighing loudly, Deirdre stood up, brushing off her dress and straightened her hair.

"Alright, I’m coming." Walking to the bar, she quickly saw what was the ‘distraction’, she did stand out a bit. Shaking her head, she took a seat next to the girl.

"Hey there, how can I help you?" For the moment, she didn’t see what was so disrupting about her, besides her look. So, unless things turned, she’d treat her like any other customer. "First drink is usually on me, but you beat me to it."

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

Trill's eye turned from the entertainers to the woman next to her, and a warm smile crossed her features. "You must be the owner," she mused. "Or just a very dedicated guest, if you buy everyone's first drinks." Her smile widened and she held her non-robotic hand out to the lady. "My name's Trillian, but you can call me Trill."

It had been a long time since she'd had to formally introduce herself to anyone. She felt intimidated by the lady, honestly, not just because she was presumibly in charge of the club but also because she had to be older than Trill and Trillian always did her best to show respect for her elders, even if they couldn't have been more than a few years older than her.

"I just kinda wanted a night away from home, this week's been awful and a girl can only handle so much before she needs a break, you know?"

[fasterthansupes-archive]

Dick Grayson has a lumpy butt. Pass it on.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

The shop was finally getting some good business again. Ever since the robbery, things had been quiet. Now it seemed everyone had forgotten about it at last and business was better than ever. Of course, it also helped that it happened to be raining pretty badly outside and people were entering the...

[snitchypenguin]

Oswald hobbled through the heavy rain, trying to use his arms to block the downpour, but failing miserably. His mother's house was on the other side of town, there was no way in hell he was going to walk all the way there.

He saw a nearby shop that was thankfully open and limped over to the door.

"Hello? Are you still open?"

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

"Hmm?" Trillian looked up from her game as someone entered the store, and a smile spread across her face as it always did whenever anybody decided to pay the shop a visit. "Oh yeah man, c'mon in!"

One look at him told her everything she needed to know. "We won't be closing 'till around nine but if you'd like, if the weather doesn't clear up by then, I can give you a ride home or whatever. I'd hate to kick you out of the store into that god-awful weather."

It'd be going pretty far out of her way, seeing as she lived in the space above the shop, but the cyborg was nothing if not generous.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

The Siren's Call.

It was a club she'd heard a lot about but never actually taken the time to investigate. Fortunately, after a week consisting of such pleasantries as a robbery, getting shot, and one of her employees going missing, she finally had reason enough to go to someplace she could relax at.

Donning a green dress that covered her robotic legs but did nothing to hide her remaining robotic limb, she made her way inside. Her eyes flitted over the people around the room, having pleasant conversations and enjoying the entertainment. Would the people here care that there was a cyborg in their midst? Would she get kicked out? Or were they only concerned that she had the money to afford her drinks and such? People in Gotham were awfully judgemental at times, and it was hard to find places that would let her in without staring or muttering at her.

The redhead took a seat at the bar, ordering herself a Jack Rose as she cast her gaze upon whatever the entertainment was for the evening. In retrospect, it would have been a better idea to come here with someone, but the woman didn't have very many friends. Hence why the 23-year-old chose to come here instead of whatever club most kids her age were hanging out at.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

The shop was finally getting some good business again. Ever since the robbery, things had been quiet. Now it seemed everyone had forgotten about it at last and business was better than ever. Of course, it also helped that it happened to be raining pretty badly outside and people were entering the store to escape the weather.

However, as the hours ticked by the business trickled down to a slow crawl, and as the last customer left the store she let out a sigh. Closing wasn't for another hour or so and she refused to close up shop early. So instead, she took out her tablet and continued off her last game of Plague Inc. Her mind told her she ought to change her bandage again, but that would involve going to the back of the store which would be unacceptable seeing as everyone else had gone home for the night and it'd leave the rest of the store empty.

As she finished up yet another round, the rain began to pick up again and the store was filled with the sound of it hitting the windows and the roof. It was rather windy as well, and she visibly jumped as the crash of thunder filled the air. "I feel sorry for anyone out in that weather," she muttered to herself as her heart rate returned to normal. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was thunder.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

Trillian Electronics. A small mom and pop (or pop and pop, as the case was) shop not quite in the upscale part of Gotham but thankfully nowhere near the ghetto. The proprietor of this fine establishment sat on her chair behind the cash wrap, whistling nonchalantly as she tried to beat her high score in Plague Inc. She occasionally itched at her side, home of an ever-reddening bandage thanks to last night’s break-in and a woman who didn’t pay enough attention to remember to change bandages.

No one had entered the store that day, possibly because they’d heard of a break in or possibly because they just didn’t have a reason to. Or, just as likely, the sight of a girl with one eye, a robotic arm and legs, and a bullet wound in her side scared them away most of the time. It didn’t bother the girl, though. She still made enough money to get by, and that’s all that mattered to her.

The blood from last night’s fight had been carefully cleaned up by the girl behind the counter, both from the fallen customer and herself, the police had already come and gone, and the only evidence left that anything had happened was the pen the GCPD left and the small brown stain on her shirt where the bandage had started leaking into the fabric.

Soon enough, however, the door would open, the bell above the entrance would ring, and Trillian would have her first non-officer visitor of the day. She just didn’t know it yet.

[circus-bird]

At a red light Dick had taken a small piece of paper out of his front chest pocket and looked down at the small piece of paper in his hand that had the address for the where Tim had wanted him to send his old laptop to be repaired. Normally, he would have done it himself but he had been to busy to even get a good look at it and know what’s really wrong with it. So he had called Dick the night before and asked for a favor, and Dick accepted. It was no biggie.

The respires would be simple enough form what he understood, something about the software and a faulty hard drive. Tim had made out a list of what needed to be done for Grayson to give to the repairmen. All Dick had to do was deliver the laptop and the list and come back to pick it up if the repairs took longer than a day. Simple enough.

When the light turned green he quickly put the paper back in his pocket and sped off in the direction of the shop. The area seemed a little shady to him but it wasn’t bad off for what he could tell. Feeling that he was getting closer to the shop he began to slow up to look for the address, and once he spotted it he tuned into the small parking lot, parked and tuned off his bike.

After killing the engine he took his helmet off and look at the store. Trillian Electronics, huh. Never heard of it. Tim must have known about this place if he trust sending his laptop here. It looked nice enough, definitely locally owned. Dick shrugged, hopped off his bike and put his helmet under his arms as he walked into the small store. 

Dick opened the door and looked around the shop as he walked in and closed the door behind him. Making his way to the front desk he gave a small smile to the girl at he counter. “Ah, excuse me, miss? Can I get some help?” He said as he shrugged his shoulder, adjusting the straps of the backpack that held Tim’s laptop and slipped one of the straps off his shoulder.

[cyberneticprankster-blog]

"YESSSSSSSSS," the girl proclaimed in victory as she eradicated the last of humanity on her game. "BATMAN WINS AGAIN! TAKE THAT, PEASANTS!" Trillian had a habit of naming all the diseases she made after people in Gotham, just so she could have a small laugh when it said things like 'scientists working on a cure to eradicate Batman' and things like that. Besides, the guy had saved her life a few days ago. It was the least she could do to name a fatal parasite after him.

The redhead grinned, tapping the counter. "Set whatever it is down and tell me the problems, I'll see what I can do. Unless it's like a bomb or something. If it's a bomb or something you'll have to leave, this is my only store and I can't have it getting blown up like that, yeah?"