Finishing touches.

[callmecassandra]

There was a point when a project reached sheer monstrosity that it turned from building to managing. Barbara was so close to that point that she could feel it, deep in her bones. It was a rush, of sorts - the feeling that grew ever more demanding, that there were gaps that needed filled and holes that needed to be patched.

She'd settled herself outside, at the edge of the orchard, her mini-comp in her lap. There was a thick book by her side, open to a page that she'd memorized long ago. She didn't mind the people milling around - she could see Donna Troy, still moving slowly and carefully, bruised and stitched hands cradling what looked like a cheap romance novel where she'd settled herself under a tree.

Dairine's sister was, of all things, staring up at an apple tree mumbling to herself - and, strangely, it seemed like it was in a language Babs had never heard. She stopped herself from reaching out for the tiny laptop that trundled past her heading towards the girl, and shook her head, going back to her work. Crazy people? They might be Gotham's forte, but Babs didn't particularly need them here.

OOC: Tag Babs, Donna, or Nita! ST/LT welcome, actually a very good time to meet all of them.