People always said I was cursed.
Gwen Stallone is a Realm Walker with a lot of family drama and a mysterious connection to Jason Todd. They share a terrible secret, but one that will draw them together.
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I'm not going to lie. When Barbara turned away from me, I almost bolted. Since all our lead on the Joker had gone cold Jason was becoming pro-active in his spare time. The idea of him talking to Ma Gunn was a scary thought, but somehow, I'm more afraid of the task in front of me: dress shopping.
I pushed my sunglasses up my nose and adjusted my cap, even though I was ready to ditch the 101 MCU disguise and set up a neon sign for the Joker saying, "kill me with a crowbar please". If I was alone, I would've gone for it, sure, but I wasn't, and Barbara had already suffered enough because of the Joker.
Last time I'd gone dress shopping was in my last year of high school for formal. In the end I'd given up and Mum helped me make a dress.
Barbara wheeled next to me, two shopping bags full of shoes in her lap. Her red curls swayed as her chair rolled forward, and I thought we might look like sisters if her skin was darker and her eyes were brown, but none the less, she was beautiful.
"I feel like a douchebag," I told her, ducking my head as another person on the mall gives me a side-eyed glance.
"Do you want me to get you a cane?" she asked, but I knew she wanted to ask about Jason. He's her friend, after all, and we weren't exactly subtle. "Or is that too low for you?" Her crystal blue eyes stared ahead, unwavering.
"Oh, nothings too low for me, Babs."
Basic preliminary banter.
Again.
It's customary.
We've been making our rounds.
To me, clothes shopping is just grabbing the right sized jeans from a lopsided pile.
Books on the other hand... I could live in a bookstore. I held a bag with the boxset of all twelve How to Train Your Dragon books, the Silmarilion the Lord of the Rings boxset and the Hobbit.
"So how's collage?"
I scoffed. "Please, you've seen me crying into my textbook. You know how it's going."
"You're right." She laughed. "I do."
"If I wasn't thinking of doing law, I'd be a translator for the Italian consulate in some mysterious country," I told her, dreaming of how exciting it would be. "But I know that the proper Italians would pick out my Sicilian accent. The northerners are snobs just because they're blond."
Barbara looked at me suspiciously, wondering if I was having her on. "You're red headed," she stated.
I inspected a deep red lock thoughtfully and said in a hushed voice. "I used to dye it before family gatherings just to look the part. What about you, Babs?"
She huffed. "Busy. So busy. But it's part of the job, you know?"
