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Flamebird
Omg.

Figure skating.

No. Seriously.

Figure skating.

Think about it for a minute.

I mean, yeah, there are a lot of fun Olympic sports out there. An absolute ton. But let's face it. I already do a lot of them in my day-to-day night-to-night life as Flamebird.

And figure skating? That's not something you'd get to do very often. Not even if you went up against someone like Mr. Freeze (who, one day, I promise, I will have the extreme pleasure of going up against, and who's frozen bottom I will righteously kick, thereby completely proving myself to, like, everyone.)

Besides, there's just something about figure skating. Something so beautiful and serene and artistic. It's like dancing, but it's more than dancing. There's a real grace to it that...I don't know. It's hard to describe.

The one person, unfortunately, who would've gotten exactly what I'm saying is Golden Glider.

Which, you know.

Ew.

Muse: Bette Kane/Flamebird
Fandom: Teen Titans
Words: 154
 
 
 
Flamebird
Title: A New Beginning
Fandom: Teen Titans
Characters: Bette "Flamebird" Kane
Prompt: 001 - Beginning
Word Count - 986
Rating - G
Summary - Flamebird approaches Nightwing to help her set up a new base of operations.
Author's Notes - Takes place during current comics continuity.

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Flamebird
04 August 2008 @ 11:11 pm
001.Beginnings. 002.Middles. 003.Ends. 004.Insides. 005.Outsides.
006.Hours. 007.Days. 008.Weeks. 009.Months. 010.Years.
011.Red. 012.Orange. 013.Yellow. 014.Green. 015.Blue.
016.Purple. 017.Brown. 018.Black. 019.White. 020.Colourless.
021.Friends. 022.Enemies. 023.Lovers. 024.Family. 025.Strangers.
026.Teammates. 027.Parents. 028.Children. 029.Birth. 030.Death.
031.Sunrise. 032.Sunset. 033.Too Much. 034.Not Enough. 035.Sixth Sense.
036.Smell. 037.Sound. 038.Touch. 039.Taste. 040.Sight.
041.Shapes. 042.Triangle. 043.Square. 044.Circle. 045.Moon.
046.Star. 047.Heart. 048.Diamond. 049.Club. 050.Spade.
051.Water. 052.Fire. 053.Earth. 054.Air. 055.Spirit.
056.Breakfast. 057.Lunch. 058.Dinner. 059.Food. 060.Drink.
061.Winter. 062.Spring. 063.Summer. 064.Fall. 065.Passing.
066.Rain. 067.Snow. 068.Lightening. 069.Thunder. 070.Storm.
071.Broken. 072.Fixed. 073.Light. 074.Dark. 075.Shade.
076.Who? 077.What? 078.Where? 079.When? 080.Why?
081.How? 082.If. 083.And. 084.He. 085.She.
086.Choices. 087.Life. 088.School. 089.Work. 090.Home.
091.Birthday. 092.Christmas. 093.Thanksgiving. 094.Independence. 095.New Year.
096.Writer‘s Choice. 097.Writer‘s Choice. 098.Writer‘s Choice. 099.Writer‘s Choice. 100.Writer‘s Choice.
 
 
Flamebird
18 July 2008 @ 11:04 am
There's a reason I don't go to Gotham City that much, and it really doesn't have anything to do with Nightwing. Or Batman. Or any of the so-called Batfamily.

I was there once, a few summers ago, visiting members of my extended family. The Kanes. The Gotham City Kanes. Yeah, I'm related to them. The ones who had a hand in forming Gotham City, much like the Waynes did? But that's another story for another time.



Muse: Bette Kane/Flamebird
Fandom: Teen Titans
Words: 541
 
 
 
Flamebird
21 June 2008 @ 11:02 am
Respect. It's not something I get a lot of. And maybe that's my own fault. I mean, I was a Robin fangirl who first threw on a costume and tried having adventures to catch the eye of my favorite superhero. Romantically. Seriously? Who does that?! (Well me, which is why I'm here talking about this now in the first place.)

Respect, to me, means having faith in my abilities. To not groan or grumble when you see me approach on the scene. I may not be the best of the best, not yet, but I'm getting there. I'm getting there, and I'm going to be awesome when I do get there. Respect is treating me with kindness, with giving me the chance to prove myself. To not stand there and tell me I'm not needed, or telling me that I don't know what I'm doing. I might, if I was given more of a chance on the field, which no one ever seems to want to give me.

Why? Because of the reason that I put on the costume? Let that go. That was ages ago. I've changed since then, and so have my reasons for fighting crime. Respect that and respect me, and give me my chance to shine.

Muse: Bette Kane/Flamebird
Fandom: Teen Titans
Words: 210
 
 
Flamebird
I...what?!

No! 

It is never cool to be unkind! Never. Not cool and not appropriate.

I mean, yeah, okay, I know what you guys are thinking. 

Are we really going to accept her opinion? That ditzy blonde from Southern California who can hardly make a name for herself as a superhero, no matter how cute or hot she looks in red and yellow spandex?

Well, the answer is yes. Yes you are.

Look, we're all people. We all feel the same. Inside, when you cut us up, we're pretty much the same. We need to treat each other nicely. Kindly. With respect and stuff. Being unkind, that just opens up, like, the worst kind of bad karma, and when it comes back to bite you in the ass - no matter how shapely your ass might be - it hurts. It hurts like hell. And that starts such a horrible cycle that...

No. Just no. It is NOT appropriate to be unkind. No matter the sitch.

Muse: Bette Kane/Flamebird
Fandom: Teen Titans
Words: 166
 
 
Flamebird
25 April 2008 @ 06:48 am
Ugh. 3 am. I'm so not at all fond of that time of day. Like, at all. It's that weird point of darkness where it's too late for it to really be night, but it's way too freaking early for it to even be considered morning, y'know? I mean, as a debutante, 3 am was when I would come home, maybe a little drunk (okay, more than a little a lot of the time), after having been out at a party all night. Then Flamebird and the Titans happened, and suddenly, instead of it being bedtime, or peace-before-a-massive-hangover-time, 3 am became early training time or quickly-and-quietly-sneak-in-and-hide-the-costume-and-clean-up-my-wounds-before-mommy-and-daddy-find-out-about-my-secret-activities time. Thankfully, now that I’m living on my own, 3 am is more than just either of those two. I mean…3 am does afford you the sort of privacy that no other time of day does.

Huh. I might actually start growing fond of 3 am.

Muse: Flamebird/Bette Kane
Fandom: Teen Titans
Words: 182
 
 
 
Flamebird
Bette Kane could hardly hold her excitement as she stared at the room around her.

It was happening.

It was finally happening.

She tried her hardest to remain cool and calm, very collected, as was befitting a debutante from society, but it was hard to do so.

Hell, this was light-years better than her debut to society!

She was a part of the Teen Titans!

Finally!

Well, okay, not the Teen Titans proper, because they were on the East Coast, and Bette Kane was a West Coast girl all the way. This was the Titans West, but that was okay, because they were still Titans anyway, and that meant that sooner or later, they would come across the Titans East which would mean that she would have to cross paths with him.

With him.

Drool. Wibble.

Finally, it was Bette's turn to stand up and speak.

To introduce herself.

To introduce herself to her new teammates. To her new family. To her new life.

She stood up, tossing her golden, artfully highlighted locks over her shoulder, and smoothed down the skirt of her red, yellow, orange, and green costume and smiled at the costumed crusaders around her.

She then opened her mouth and....

she couldn't do more than make a few excited, strangled sounds.

Embarassed, she quickly sat back down, burrowing her head in her arms.

Ohhhh, that was smooth, Kane. Really smooth.

Muse: Bette Kane/Flamebird
Fandom: Teen Titans
Words: 233
 
 
Flamebird
29 March 2008 @ 10:15 pm
I’m so mad, I could scream right now. I really, really could. Of course, that would be the non-heroic thing to do, but after tonight, I hardly think that acting non-heroic for a nice, thirty-second long scream would really matter, right? I mean, sure, I risk my life by throwing on a form-fitting, bright red and yellow suit every night to protect Southern California from common street thugs and supervillains, and no, I don’t do it for the glory, but for once, just for once, I’d like to be recognized doing so. I’d like someone to say to me, “Oh, thank you, Flamebird, for coming to my rescue,” or “Flamebird, the LAPD sure do appreciate your help!”

But do I get that?

Noooo.

Instead, much like tonight, when I saved what I actually thought was a cute grad student from the clutches of some horrible little Mr.-Freeze-Captain-Cold-Killer-Frost wannabe named Frigid Brigid, I get a “Who the hell are you?!” and a “Perhaps you should head back to your sorority, miss. Don’t you have a mixer or a costume party to get to?”

How infuriating is that?! I’ve been doing this for years! I was a Teen Titan too! Several times! But still, I like get about as much recognition and appreciation as a sci-fi space western by Joss Whedon.

That’ll change one day. I know it will. I’m just waiting for my moment to shine, and when that happens, well…then maybe Flamebird will get the appreciation that she really deserves. Along with a fashion line in her name. And maybe some dolls, too.

Muse: Flamebird/Bette Kane
Fandom: Teen Titans
Words: 266
 
 
Flamebird
21 June 2007 @ 07:48 pm
Newport Beach, California

It was late at night. Fashion Island was on the verge of closing down for the day.

A young, seemingly typical Southern California girl was leaving the sprawling, trendy outdoor mall with a gaggle of other typical Southern California girls. While she couldn't be called beautiful or sexy, there was something bright and sunny about her. An optimism that would draw you to her. She was cute and perky, but not in any annoying way. Not anymore, anyway. She'd learned how to calm herself down.

If you watched her closely, though, there was something different about her. Something that set her apart from the other girls. Sure, she was dressed like one of them in a pair of short white shorts, a ruched knit top with gauzy chiffon sleeves, and a pair of heels. Her hair, long and blonde, was wavy and currently pulled back in a loose, half-ponytail half-bun thing. A few delicate but trendy pieces of jewelry adorned her lithe, athletic body. Yes, she definitely looked like one of them, but there was a slight difference in the way that she carried herself. It was almost as though she was more aware of her surroundings, more knowledgable about the things that were around her. Like she was on alert or something.

Which she was.

She knew of a world that her rich, somewhat snobby friends had no idea of. A dangerous world. A world which was pretty much unlike any world that the girls lived in. Sure, it had it's drama and it's soap operatic elements, but it was far more deathly, far darker than the world of Orange County high society. And it was a world that she tried her hardest to bring her sunlight and sparkle into.

The girls walked to their cars, a bevy of the latest sportscars and SUVs, giggling and making jokes. Even our blonde in question, though her eyes searched the surrounding neighborhood.

Gas prices had gotten high. Crime rates had followed suit. Criminals had become more open, more daring about the crimes they committed.

And what better crime fodder than a gaggle of girls with Daddy's credit cards late at night?

The young woman cursed.

They should have left earlier. They all should have left earlier.

She had just approached her car when her biggest fear that night came true.

"Put yo' hands up in the air."

Mary Elizabeth "Bette" Kane froze.

Oh no. Oh hell no. This was not something that she was going to be privy to. This was not something that she was going to be a victim to.

Marissa "Ritzi" Sharp yelled out a little yelp. "Ew! If you're going to steal from Newport, at least dress the part you stinky little tamale."

Bette cringed. So not the time to be a racist bitch, Ritz.

Jules Crawford glared at Ritzi, giving voice to Bette's thoughts. "Just...give them what they want."

Bette looked at the guns in the hands of the would-be thieves. There was about five of them, as opposed to the eight young women standing before them.

Bette needed a diversion. Fast.

Thankfully, she was standing next to her car.

With it's door open.

She squealed and jumped in, turning the little red and yellow sportscar on. Her tires screeched as she tore away in mock horror. The men, all of them Latino, didn't even graze her car.

She drove away. They wouldn't shoot her friends. They weren't killers. They were just desperate for cash.

She drove up into the shadows and brought the car to a screeching halt. Fumbling, she changed out of her civilian clothes and into a bright yellow and red costume. She leapt out of the car and threw on her mask.

Seconds later, she was at the top of the escalator, looking down at the would-be thieves and her friends.

"It's not worth it, boys," Flamebird said, her costume strikingly bright against the shadows out of which she was retreating. She noticed that by now, all of the girls except Ritzi and Ritzi's lackey Gemma Greene had started handing over their things. Flamebird had arrived just as Wilhelmina "Billie" Russell was handing over a pair of earrings that Bette knew had been in the Russell family since the eighteenth century. Billie, surprisingly, was not putting up a fight for them. "Rich girls from Newport? They've started putting tracking devices in their jewelry. The only way to get rid of them is to destroy the entire piece. Totally not worth it."

"Eh, who the hell are you, eh mami?" One of the men asked Bette.

"Probably some stupid sorority girl from one of them UC's."

Bette rolled her eyes from behind her mask. Was she ever going to get any respect from anyone?

Still, on the bright side, the guns were pointed at her.

Bette sauntered down the steps of the escalator, not bothering to wait for one to bring her down. In her hand were three bird-shaped boomerangs.

"Yeah, probably. Might even be your lucky day. I mean, look at me. Fancy costume. Clearly expensive weapons. Damn. I must be richer than the seven dumb valley girls standing right in front of you. No offense, ladies." Bette offered them a smile. "Just trying to save your collective, cardio bar produced asses."

"I think she likes to hear her voice a bit too much, yo."

"I agree."

"Maybe we should -"

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!

Flamebird had leapt into action. The guns knocked out of three hands, Flamebird threw a couple of punches and kicks, knocking them out effectively. The other two were easier. It was obvious that any of them didn't really do this often. One of the thieves took off. A bola followed him and wrapped around him, taking him down. Flamebird took the last down with a handspring over his shoulders.

Easy. It was too easy. She wanted something more challenging. Something that she could truly prove herself with.

Was that asking too much?

Still, her friends got their precious things back.

At the moment, that was what mattered.

"Wow. So, like, did you learn that at Cardio Bar or something?" Ritzi asked, clearly impressed.

"Yeah, that's exactly it," Flamebird chuckled. "Cardio Bar. Look, the police will be here in, say, five minutes. Tell them what happened. Leave me out of it. Let's just pretend that one of you guys took these guys down, as unbelievable as that seems." Flamebird turned around to walk away.

As she headed back towards her car, a small smile crept up to her face. She'd done well tonight. By herself. No problems. Sure, it was easy, but...she had done well.

And soon?

Hopefully soon she would prove more and finally gain the respect of her fellow heroes.
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