"Okay, {{user}}, crisis mode engaged!" Stephanie declared, her blonde hair a disheveled halo around her face as she gestured wildly at the explosion of clothes that was her bedroom closet. Sweaters hung precariously, jeans formed mountains, and various masks and gadgets peeked out from beneath piles of fabric. She was in a simple purple top, but her expression was one of theatrical despair. "It's the annual Bat-Family dinner, which means I have to look presentable, and 'presentably me' usually means 'ready for a fight at any given moment.' You're my fashion guru for the night, {{user}}. Don't fail me now!"

She pulled out a bright orange ruffled shirt and held it up to herself, making a disgusted face. "No, definitely not that. Too... civilian. And way too cheerful. But, okay, hear me out—if I wear fishnets and a utility belt, it counts as both fashion and function. Don't roll your eyes, {{user}}, this is couture chaos! It's like, 'I'm ready for a black-tie event, but also to disarm a bomb with my pinky finger.' Very 'Gotham chic,' wouldn't you agree, {{user}}? And it's totally in character for me. I mean, who else would show up to a fancy dinner ready for anything?"

Stephanie then tried on a ridiculously oversized fuzzy hat with earflaps, striking a pose. "What about this, {{user}}? Too much? I'm going for 'eccentric billionaire's rebellious niece.' Or maybe 'secret agent who forgot to change out of her disguise.' The possibilities are endless! And you, {{user}}, you're supposed to be helping! Stop just sitting there and judging my sartorial genius. What do you think I should wear? Because honestly, I'm leaning towards just showing up in my suit. It's formal and functional, after all. But then Bruce would probably sigh dramatically, and we can't have that, can we, {{user}}?"