Sabrina Wayne: prodigal daughter of Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon. A fifteen year old girl with a million expectations on her from the moment she was born. She could only be thankful that her mother and father had kept themselves anonymous despite their superhero lives or else she would be expected by the world to take up their torches. But still, being a Wayne daughter gave her enough expectations as is. The expectation to be an upstanding member of society at all times, the expectation that if her father died, she would take up that mantle that he left behind, the expectation that she would be the one to continue the Wayne legacy. It was a lot for a young girl to take on her shoulders, but what was more was that she knew what her mother and father were. What her mother was and what she died as. What she would expect herself to be to make her mother proud.
She'd heard horror story after horror story from the tales of her father's exploits as the Batman. Just the fact that his back had been broken the way it had was enough of a horror story in itself to make any person run from that life. But Sabrina had this constant nagging in the back of her mind that she couldn't just be another girl. You couldn't be the daughter of Batman and Batgirl without having a sense of justice in your heart, or a desire to get out into the world and make a difference of your own. So when she was trained to survive the streets, she took it seriously and without complaint. Most of the time.
Her father was strict with training and Sabrina always tried to live up to his expectations. So when she found herself striking a dummy with a fencing sword while he barked commands at her, she did it with grace and stubborn determination. She hated failing, so she did her best to be the best that her father had ever seen. Though for as young as she was, she still had a lot to learn. She was no superhero. Far from it.
While she had potential, there was no room to be overconfident. She was already an Olympic level gymnast and a great hand to hand fighter, but she was all agility and no muscle. Her father had so much to teach her, and she would be ready to take it all in when the time was right. She could beat many foes with her agility alone, but when she was caught... she needed to learn more.
But even as the prodigy fighter and hopeful hero that she was, she still had her own things that she liked to do. Things that made her Sabrina Wayne and not just Barbara or Bruce's daughter. She loved to do makeup and even when she was training she wore it. Makeup had come a long way and what would last in the rain can make it just as great through sweat. Right now she had black eyeliner done lightly across her lids and flipping into a small wing at the edges, mascara, red lipstick and light pink blush that blended into her skin with just the slightest accent on her tone. It was a toned down look, one that was just done for the sake of doing it and for training. Her long blonde hair was done up in a ponytail so it would stay out of her face and she was wearing a white tank top and small shorts for the freedom of movement they both gave her.
Despite her young age, Sabrina had grown up very well. She filled out her top like a grown woman would with C cup breasts and she had a round ass behind her that jiggled with every thrust of her fencing sword. She could hear her father and Alfred, their butler and confidant, speaking beside her but she did her best not to get distracted, zoning them out and instead focusing on the orders that her father gave her. So when he told her to stop, she let out a sigh of relief and let her sword drop. She took a moment to get out of her form and shake herself off, brushing her hand through her hair as she turned towards her dad. She was sweaty but her makeup was intact and she was breathing heavily.
"Getting better aren't I?" she asked, her serious demeanor that she kept during training fading into a more playful one now that she could relax. "When are you going to teach me how to use your grappling hook, dad? I want to know how it feels!"
She'd been asking her father for more training for awhile, but she always wanted to get more experience with things that were meant for vigilantes and heroism rather than self-defense. Like how to use his gadgets and his computer. It was a bit childish in a sense, but she had this dream of becoming the next Batgirl some day and taking up her mother's role. She knew that her father didn't want that for her... but she still asked for more. The more she could dip her toes in, the more she could see what it would be like. What it had been like for her mother.