Welcome to Time of Our Lives, a literate, intermediate-advanced, canon-only Young Justice roleplay. The site takes place post-season two, after the episode Endgame. We're a friendly environment with emphasis on character development and plotting. Any questions? Feel free to ask the staff.
Post by DICK GRAYSON on Jul 23, 2018 20:38:58 GMT -8
He was doing a lot of soul searching lately. The secrets he’d kept from those closest to him, the risks he’d taken to infiltrate the Light, and… Wally’s death had all taken a toll on him. He had to search far back into his memory to find the last time he’d taken time for himself. So, that was what he was doing lately, or attempting, really.
He had a funny idea of self-care, though. He’d kept his residence in Bludhaven and was devoting nearly all of his time to protecting the city and at least trying to make a dent in the crime rate. It wasn’t the most relaxing of past time. Not to mention the application for the police academy sitting on the kitchen counter in his apartment, half filled out and only waiting for him to make up his mind. In truth, he wanted it, but how reasonable an idea it was and the opinion of certain people caused hesitation.
So, yeah, he was coping. Not perfectly, sometimes he still didn’t like looking in the mirror and he had more nightmares than he once did, but it was something. What he was doing now, though, was a step in the right direction, he was sure. That didn’t stop his stomach from churning with nerves, though.
He’d invited Barbara along for a patrol—she’d probably been surprised, as he hadn’t been reaching out much for a while; one of the many things he still had to apologize for. He had the route planned and, though fighting crime wasn’t the actual purpose, he didn’t doubt they’d come across plenty of illegal activity.
Now, he waited where he’d told her to meet him: the bell tower of an old, decrepit church. He leaned against one of the posts casually, the tower high enough to give a decent view of the city. His eyes were on the stars, though, barely visible through the smog, but twinkling anyhow.
Post by Barbara Gordon on Jul 26, 2018 9:44:19 GMT -8
Truth to tell, Barbara had been scared for Dick for a while. So many changes had happened at the end of the Reach's attempt to decimate the earth that even the least of them were trying to roll with the new norm. Most of them were for the better; the League showing so much faith and gratitude in The Team that they were now operating from the Watchtower; the fact that the earth was still spinning around the sun and not a shattered asteroid belt in the Milky Way.
Those victories weren't without a cost, though. One that was tragically high. Everyone was mourning Kid Flash's death, but Babs knew that that sense of loss was nothing compared to what those closest to him must have been feeling. She couldn't imagine, or begin to fathom the depth of Dick's heartbreak and mourning. She knew that him alienating himself from everyone (not just Bruce, but The Team) was his way of coping. Barbara had respected that, and prayed that it was what he genuinely needed.
Still, a large, aching part of her soul worried she was doing the wrong thing. That, wishes or no, Dick needed her for solace and consolation. That being by himself was the last thing he needed at a time like this. Babs's anxieties were just getting to the point of overtaking her desire to honor Dick's wants when she'd received the message inviting her on a patrol of Bludhaven - Nightwing's new protectorate; another rung on the ladder of his push for solidarity after Kid Flash's death.
Batgirl's grapple locked into place on a building's facade. She retracted it at top speed, hurtling through the polluted air of Bludhaven, gathering enough inertia that, when she passed where the hook was anchored, she continued onward and upward. Barbara's cape fanned out, went taut and caught the wind, sending her swooping over the buildings below like her namesake, spiraling closer to the sagging bell tower of the church that was her destination.
She landed in the uppermost room, long missing the bell that gave it its name, with the sound of faint, snapping fabric and sigh of parting air. Batgirl dropped into a crouch and let her cape fall slowly behind her. Standing, she locked eyes on Dick and her breath caught while her lips plucked up at the corners. Only in that moment did Barbara truly recognize how deeply she'd missed him. "Hi," she said, then, not caring about anything else, she latched onto his torso in a fierce hug, pressing her cheek against his chest.
Post by DICK GRAYSON on Jul 31, 2018 17:58:28 GMT -8
His ear picked up on a feint, familiar sound: that of a grapple going off and locking into place nearby. The corners of his lips lifted faintly and the nerves in his stomach churned some more. He didn’t turn, though, until he heard the flap of her cape signaling her arrival to the bell tower. When he did, eyes locking onto hers, he felt a distinct amount of tension leave his shoulders. The sight of her was like a breath of fresh air. God, he’d missed; hadn’t realized how much until this very moment. Even pushing aside the feelings he had—the ones that made his palms sweaty and his hear pound whenever she was around—she was still one of his best friends, one of those in his life he treasured the most. She was family. Now, while he’d felt like an idiot already for his self-imposed isolation, he realized just how big of an idiot he’d been.
Still, he wasn’t sure how to put all of this into words, or if he even should at this moment. So, all he offered was a small, somewhat sheepish smile. “Hey, thanks for-”
Her arms were wrapping around him and her face pressing into his chest and he swore he could feel her warmth even through his Kevlar. Surprised, it took him a moment to react, chest tightening with an ache of guilt. He’d known others like her would worry for him, but it hadn’t occurred how much. His arms finally curled around her back, returning her tight embrace with one of his own. He released a shuddering breath, pressing his face into the top of her cowl.
Post by Barbara Gordon on Nov 21, 2018 7:06:22 GMT -8
Pressed against him, her arms around his middle, Barbara let a soft, almost silent sigh go. The physical contact let her release a tension - a held breath, a pressing weight - she'd not fully known existed. Ordinarily when she was in costume, Babs didn't let her guard down for a moment; she was better than that, had been trained better than that. But just then? For a moment, she wasn't Batgirl, clinging to Nightwing. She was just a girl, holding onto her best friend and being grateful for him.
Dick returned the embrace after a moment of surprise. His face rested on her cowl, just as hers brushed against the blue insignia fanned across his chest.
"I'm sorry."
Batgirl tightened her hold on him. Outside of the moment, she'd have had an assortment of retorts to choose from. Maybe she'd have scolded him, even lightheartedly? Within it, though, words left her mouth without her picking them - a unique effect only Dick had on her. "Shut up, jerk." But there wasn't any bite in the words. They were fiercely and almost stubbornly impassioned, actually. Babs redoubled her hold on him, until her arms ached, then finally let go.
Drifting back, she looked up into the white, featureless lenses of his domino mask. Babs remembered when, just a few years ago, she'd looked down to make eye contact with Dick. Now he was a frustrating number of inches taller than her. "I forgive you. This time." Her blue eyes danced.
Post by DICK GRAYSON on Jan 16, 2019 17:22:16 GMT -8
He let out a breathy laugh in response to her words. Fair enough. She tightened her hold and honestly, he could’ve stayed there all night, plan and proper circulation be damned. He let himself forget, for just a moment, that they were Nightwing and Batgirl, two costumed vigilantes atop an old church that should’ve been condemned a while ago. They were just Dick and Babs, two best friends who had missed each other. He knew he’d been absent for a while now, more than just physically. He just hoped he could make it up to her, somehow, in any way.
When she released him, the air now between them felt abnormally empty. The sullen feeling, though, was swept away by his relief at her next words. He cracked a smile, glanced away sheepishly, and scratched the back of his neck before responding. His tone was teasing, not wanting to give away exactly how worried he’d been. “You’re a saint, Red.” His sincerity leaked into his voice nonetheless, though. He never seemed able to help himself around her, always wanting to give her the truth on a silver platter.
He tilted his head and waggled his eyebrows playfully. “Ready to kick criminal butt?” He got out his grapple gun, fiddling with it as he explained: “I got wind of a few big deals going down tonight; thought it’d go faster with my favorite partner helping out.” He winked.
Post by Barbara Gordon on Feb 20, 2019 9:46:46 GMT -8
"You're a saint, Red."
Barbara propped one hand on her hip. While the half-lidded cast of her eyes gave the impression of being unimpressed, she wasn't able to fend off a subtle smile that betrayed otherwise. "I know," she responded evenly. Batgirl could feel the relief welling through Dick, though he tried to disguise it. Why they ever tried to playact around each other was beyond her, though. They knew each other too well to ever actually hope to sell the slightest fib to one another.
Somehow that relief washed the slate of worry and estrangement clean between them more than the official apology had. To know that Dick must've been somewhat worried that she wouldn't so easily forgive him was both absurd in Babs's mind, and oddly adorable.
Then, all at once, the precariousness and tenderness of their exchange was folded up and tucked away. They were falling back into step with their normal rapport, easy as breathing, any cloud that'd shaded their relationship from recent weeks forgotten. All wrapped up in Dick's cocky brow waggle and signature, sly grin while he asked if she was ready to get down to business.
Batgirl smiled at being called Dick's "favorite partner." She made a mental note to rub that in Bruce's face later. Meanwhile, she grasped her own grapple gun from where it lay holstered on her utility belt. "Point the way, Guy Wonder." She waited until he'd started moving in a certain direction then, while following him, added, "I missed having a sidekick."
Post by DICK GRAYSON on Feb 25, 2019 11:23:55 GMT -8
His grin increased at her readiness, feet already stepping backwards toward the edge of the tower. He got out his own grapple, bit his cheek against a chuckle at her next words. His brow furrowed with mock offense, but his grin didn’t fade. “Sidekick?” His voice was high as he feigned offense, but he was already leaning back, then falling through the air, grapple shooting out last minute to jolt him from his free fall.
Their first destination was a seemingly inconspicuous alley. This was Blüdhaven, though. Where there were alleys, there were typically criminals. And there were a lot of alleys. This was, after all, the city Gothamites looked at and said: “Golly, sure wouldn’t want to live there.”
He crouched low on the building just over the alley, close enough to Batgirl to feel her arm brush his. The alley was currently empty, and the only sound being the loud opposing basses of the two clubs on either side. Nightwing could feel the vibration of the music through the concrete of the one they were currently crouched atop. He’d done enough stakeouts at these two clubs, though, that he’d learned to tune past it.
“The East End Suns—not to be confused with the East End Tigers or the East End Executioners—own that club” he murmured lowly, jutting his chin toward the club on the other side of the alley from them. “They recently made a deal with the Crowley Crew, who own this club.” He tapped the roof they were currently on. “They’ve agreed to peddle each other’s products. Only hitch: the two leaders—Johnny Torino and Crowley Michaels—need to meet in person to see the deal through. Neither wants to go to the other’s territory, so they’ve graciously agreed to meet in the middle. First time either of them will step foot outside the club in months. Two birds, one stone.” He smirked slightly, before continuing. “I already left a tip to the police, so they should be here by the time we’re done.” The Blüdhaven PD’s response time was… less than stellar.
The two side doors for the clubs opened almost simultaneously. Two burly men stepped out, flocked by five even burlier guards each. Nightwing tensed, eyeing them over. “That’s them.”
Post by Barbara Gordon on Apr 22, 2020 9:16:35 GMT -8
Nightwing pitched over backward in a perilous fall. Batgirl shook her head in vague exasperation. He and Bruce were always so dramatic - just in different ways. In Dick's case, everything was a performance. Made sense, having been born and raised on a trapeze, chasing danger in front of a crowd thick with spectators waiting for him to fall. Pretend though she might like Dick's showboating was ridiculous, truth was she kind of loved it.
With infinitely more practicality and restraint than her hunky sidekick, Barbara stepped neatly off of the church tower's ledge, orienting midair to follow the direction that Dick was swinging. Quicker than any other human form of transportation, the two Bats touched down on the border of a particular alleyway. Altogether unremarkable, except for the fact that Dick had brought her here, which was all the difference needed.
Babs's blue eyes gleamed as Dick quickly briefed her on the paradigm they'd just walked into. She ingested the information in stride, grateful that the situation was fairly straightforward compared to most in their line of work. No costumed criminals or color psychopaths, and that was always a win in her book.
Nightwing's timing was perfect. He'd just finished his rundown when movement happened down below; doors opening to bleed competing light and music from the clubs's interiors into the rubbish-choked alley. Batgirl cast a sidelong look at Dick, falling into surgical, well-honed concert, just like they'd been trained. Conveying strategies with just a significant glance.
Barbara bled into the shadows and, with a deft use of agility and coordination, reemerged atop the opposite roof a breath later, keeping the meeting framed by the first son and daughter of the Bat.
Post by DICK GRAYSON on Jul 14, 2020 13:46:05 GMT -8
Barbara disappeared from his side, melting into the shadows, before appearing on the roof opposite him a moment later. Dick continually found himself impressed by her. She wasn’t someone like Bruce, who’d traveled the world to learn near every skill he could. She wasn’t someone like Dick, who’d been trained in this life when he was just a little kid. No, she’d just been bit by the vigilante bug one day and gone on from there. Her sharp mind and natural talent had let her quickly grasp skills it had taken Bruce or Dick sometimes twice as long to learn. He honestly didn’t doubt that in a few more years’ time, Barbara would be the best of them.
Dick allowed himself a brief, soft smile at the thought, before focusing on the task at hand. He flashed his fingers a couple times, signaling to Barbara that he was going for the guard directly below him. Not just because he was closest, but that one was also positioned just in front of the side door to the club they’d come from. That’d allow Nightwing to block Crowley’s closest escape.
He flashed Barbara one last smirk, before dropping down.
“Sorry we’re late for the meeting, guys” he quipped, landing squarely on the guard’s shoulders and wrapping his thighs tightly around the man’s neck. His elbows came down at the same time, colliding into the man’s skull with enough force to rattle Dick’s bones were it not for the protective layering of his suit. The man stumbled, dropping his gun. Dick then flipped off him, the force causing the man to lose whatever balance he had left and go tumbling to the ground. Simultaneously, Dick let a wing ding fly, slicing through the air and cutting into the armed hands of two other guards and causing them to drop their weapons. “But you know how Blüd traffic can be.”
Feet on the ground, he slipped out his escrima sticks, just in time to block a particularly large fist flying toward his face. It was Crowley, which Dick could admit some surprise at. He’d mostly been expecting both head honchos to make a run for it. Torino was already high-tailing it toward the alley exit—he trusted Batgirl could take of that easily—but it seemed Crowley was the more defensive type.
Post by Barbara Gordon on Sept 14, 2020 13:02:52 GMT -8
The smirk that Dick tossed her way got her, like it always did. It was only through record-breaking levels of stubbornness that Barbara managed to fight off her own, responsive smile until after Nightwing dropped into the madness below. The tension had been thick and ready to break at the slightest nudge, and having a protege of the Batman land on the shoulders of the biggest guy there was definitely enough.
Batgirl guessed that Dick's loud mouth was two-fold: on one side, it was just his snarking personality bubbling up and over; on the other, it pulled the spotlight and focus of the entire alleyway onto him. Barbara hoped that the latter was a wholly tactical motive, but part of her wondered if it was Dick's clever way of trying to shoulder most of the heat.
Regardless, Babs wasn't going to let the opportunity go to waste. Batarangs spun through the air like living creatures ahead of her, biting into knuckles, forearms and shoulders reaching for - or lifting already-grabbed - firearms. Gasps and curses were smothered when Batgirl landed behind the edge of the gathered thugs, a caped shadow smacking the ground.
Her cloak fluttered and her legs struck out from the other side of the fabric, hitting pressure points and temples. Finesse had to be traded, sometimes, when the odds were stacked high enough against you. Though she had a feeling Dick would disagree. Babs ducked under a haymaker from one brute, pelting his solar plexus with the flat of her palm, driving all of the air from his lungs.
Her blue eyes caught on Torino, pulling his guards behind him as living barriers as he made a run for it. Batgirl's grappling line lashed out, but retracted almost just as quickly. She used the momentary jerk of force to launch her skyward. Her cape spread open, catching air to broaden her trajectory just enough more. Then Barbara closed the panels of fabric, coming down like a meteor on Torino, catching him between the shoulder blades, she carried him into the ground chest-first as a living landing pad.
