<div class="floatleft">(http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/40500000/-Octavia-Blake-4x12-octavia-blake-40559790-500-600.png)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Helena: Huntress<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>Her body in fitness clothes (https://i.imgur.com/iWAsYtt_d.jpg?maxwidth=640&shape=thumb&fidelity=medium), but with spandex shorts, (https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0006/7118/7062/products/Colorvalue-Stretchy-Hip-Up-Fitness-Sport-Shorts-Women-Elastic-High-Waisted-Gym-Workout-Shorts-Quick-Dry_7602f13c-59f8-46ca-9952-05d52bd0f122.jpg) black ankle socks and black sneakers.<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>Saturday, August 22<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>About 7:45 AM EST<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Secret Sanctuary Gymnasium—> The Kitchen<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>We need to talk....I’d like to—Nevermind! Food!<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Brion/Geoforce; Open to everyone in the kitchen<br/><hr/>There was such an exhaustion in her walk that she almost stumbled through the door to her shared bedroom with Brion. Her ponytailed hair was high and up, but a few strayed strands dangled along her forehead and around her ears from the sparring workout she had just barely endured. Pushed to the limit after a full day of consuming nothing but beer, snacks, and junk food, her muscles and overall body was giving her a harsh lecture in dietary responsibility. Reaching up to her neck, Helena traced the small slit at her throat made from Damian’s blade in the final round. Bringing her hand back she saw a small trace of blood, the salt from her palm stinging the nick as she grimaced at cursed at their foolishness.<br/><br/>It had been their tipping point, a statement that they had, indeed, gone too far when blood was drawn. They were supposed to be a team now, to put their political and mental differences aside and word together, have each other’s back in the field. But how the hell was she supposed to do that with someone who aggravated her so? But then again, -she- was no perfect specimen of “togetherness”, so if the others had somehow accepted her for who she was, than dammit she would have to exhibit that same level of long-suffering. Maybe when tempers died down she and Damian could talk, come to some sort of accord that they didn’t have to love each other like cuddly cousins, but they<em>did</em>have to work together. So they could fight and argue and such, but when the masks went on it was all business.<br/><br/>“Brion?” She asked into the dark room. A room that was found empty upon flipping the light switch. “Dammit, where are you?” She wanted to talk to him as well, apologize for her actions the night before, say she was just being a fool and to promise to not do it again. Helena guessed if there was any time to learn a lesson in maturity it would be right fucking now as a new member of the Justice League....but she couldn’t say any of that if he wasn’t here!<br/><br/>But just then a scent hit her nose. It was distant, faint....but incredibly seducing.  Like cartoonish steam-morphed fingers, it beckoned Helena to the kitchen like a bloodhound. She still wore her workout clothes, the sports crop top with the tight polyester/spandex shorts, except now she also sported the superficial slice at her throat, along with a few cuts and tiny bruises along her arms, jawline, and forehead, exposing that she had been fighting.....<br/><br/>......with someone.<br/><br/>There were a few others gathered already, but the woman practically levitated towards the irresistible aroma of bacon, eggs, sweet syrup, and potatoes. But the topless man behind the counter stopped her in her tracks.<br/><br/>The energy around Helena suddenly sizzled from confidently famished, to embarrassingly unsure. Unaware that the alienfolk in the room were just discussing and trying to dissect earthly emotion and flirtatious energies, she slowly walked towards Brion with wide eyes and parted lips, blind to them as she was about to give them a front row seat to the mysterious world of human interactions. Stoping in front of her friend, Helena looked up at him with curious eyes as if trying to gauge his reaction to her now that they were both sober and all. Her pupils were more violet than blue presently, displaying the volatile feelings swirling just under the surface, and reaching her hands gently forward she placed her warm palms right at Brion’s lower naked flanks.<br/><br/>“I.....I.....” as wonders never ceased, the great Huntress was actually at a loss for words as she gazed up at him, mouth working but nothing quite coming out just yet. “Can we.....can I.....talk to you later?” She suddenly remembered they weren’t alone in the kitchen and her gaze dropped from his to the right only to settle on the plate of prepared Egg’s Benedict that was set aside. Suddenly nothing in the world was as important as what was on that plate. “Holy shit, is that homemade hollandaise??” Helena practically shoved Brion aside to land her elbows on either side of the dish on the counter, looking down at it like it was something she was about to make sweet, tender love to. Her actions were slow....deliberate as she picked up a fork and licked her lips slowly, cocking her head to the side and frowning as if in deep concentration. Turning the fork on its side, she cut the ridge down the side of the dish, through the softly poached egg, the ham, and the muffin underneath, making sure to get plenty of the tangy, creamy sauce on top before putting it into her mouth and making a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.<br/><br/>Helena loved food. And closing her eyes she chewed slowly as the salty, crunchy, fluffy combined texture all formed to create a culinary experience that she was immediately starving for another bite. “Oh, my god, Brion.” Her voice was almost in a whine as she took another bite of the food he had prepared. “I just want to sew my ass and mouth shut and enjoy this forever.” Such was a version of Helena’s compliments. The floodgates had opened, and being so unhealthy the last 24 hours it was good to have real, good-quality food in her stomach. Coffee was next as she nodded to the two women who were trying it, before getting a second helping of the sausage, two pancakes, and home fries with plenty of ketchup. Helena stood by the island’s counter eating and then gazed at Lor Zod and his abysmal feast set out before him.<br/><br/>“It’s borderline insulting that you would eat that pig shit when this is right over here.” She challenged him, not knowing he had actually entered before Brion had so “this” wasn’t even an option if he wanted it. Turning back towards Raven, Kara, and Miss Martian, Helena nodded finally in greeting. “Forgive me for not saying ‘good morning’ to you all earlier.” She then remembered that they may not fully understand Earthly greetings and were probably not offended in the least. Helena chuckled as she shook her head in dismissal of her own apology. “So....you ladies ready for all of this?”