[ Aside from those who know expressly how and where to find her, Barbara Gordon wasn't seen much for the week after she (and hers) got out of the labyrinth. She'd been in worse shape than she'd found herself in a long time, but then, being stuck in a maze without a bed, regular food and water, anything at all with consistent reliability, while spending the whole time engaged in fights and puzzles—well, that was bound to do it to anyone.

But she wasn't anyone, and her body had flaws even the least trained child here didn't have. For the most part, Barbara tries to focus on the fact that she's lucky that the experimental tech in her spine didn't overextend itself and turn off entirely. Without a bed, chair, wheelchair, pain meds, or anything for around twenty days. Just the stubborn refusal to sit down and let the overwhelming pain win.

There'd been a lot of rest after it. And a visit to the hospital.
And the acquisition of two different wheelchairs ].

[ Barbara does go to coffee, if still, and even more so now, unenchanted with what this place and Aurora deem mandatory. Barbara makes her way there in her wheelchair, which already has had the back handlebars removed. She's not impressed when she gets to the table with her own little placard, which on different days reads:

→ My name is Barbara, but I have two others.
→ My name is Barbara, and I know most of the secrets in my world.
→ My name is Barbara, and I can take over almost all tech worldwide in less than 12 minutes.

Often, they get crumpled and shoved in a pocket, but maybe you caught one before that happened or before she made it to her table that day. (Similarly, if you want to antagonize me without your own, wildcard that, too!). Barbara settles in to drink a coffee. Often, it's black if she's by herself, but sometimes she gives in and has something nicer.

Occasionally, she can be found there, sans note cards,
working on her laptop, building a brand new code language. ]