<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/23/c3/4e/23c34e967947604ad5e23b3ed80458ff.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Helena: Huntress<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>Oversized Gray sleepshirt and a pair of cotton pajama shorts (https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b0/9e/a4/b09ea40cb181c558bbf821b9a9feda8a.jpg), and a pair of UGG boots<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>Friday, August 21<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>Very, very early morning, about 2:30AM EST<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>On the road towards Rhode Island<br/><strong>CAR MUSIC:</strong>Dorothy- Woman (https://youtu.be/zfeNnrREB9c)<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Geoforce<br/><hr/>“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha-<em>douche</em>.” Helena said the last word under her breath as she sarcastically laughed when he compared her to a little cartoonish whirlwind of doom that could only be brought to heel by a bag full of grocery store candy and snacks.<br/><br/>Irritating part was he was actually right, a fact that she mildly proved by popping another Oreo into her mouth and chewing while her shoulders mildly shimmied to the female rock music she chose. Brion spoke to continue their conversation, and Helena couldn’t help but wonder in the back of her mind if he was trying to distract her or if he was genuinely interested. Marking the difference between her and Huntress was an interesting start, and stepped in the direction of genuine interest, but that didn’t make sense to her. To her, Helena was the boring side that no one cared about. She taught classes as a teacher at a public school down the street to pay bills, she painted terrible, terrible artwork in her spare time, liked everything from punk rock to Celtic music, and secretly loved reading those sweetly romantic, pastel-cover, beach novels of two awkward people finding true love with each other.<br/><br/>Romance was not something common with Helena. She didn’t understand the nuances necessary to be artistic about it, and New York men demanded such dedication. Yes, she may be beautiful, and quite capable to beating large gangsters to a blooded pulp in her spare time, but when it came to being seductive the extent of her knowledge was “hey, I like you, let’s do this”, and apparently the City Men disapproved of such forward statements. There was a game that needed to be played and.....Helena hated all the bull shitting around.<br/><br/>So she spent her lazy nights alone with her Chinese take out with either tv or a smutty book, but there was no way in hell she was going to confess her patheticness to Brion outright. The man apparently thought she was “cool” as an ordinary person. And it felt good.<br/><br/>She laughed at his suggestions. “You know....never been camping? Although I’d love to try, especially if it was on a beach. Something about sleeping and waking up to the sound of waves crashing—<em>yes</em>!” She seemed genuinely excited at the prospect, but when the hell would any of them have time for such a thing? In their line of work, one rarely had any time for themselves. “I recently got into swimming, there’s a rooftop pool at the apartment complex. Sometimes I tan naked up there, which is awesome. Just bar the door so no one can get up there, but with all the skyscrapers around sometimes it causes a problem. Pretty sure I saw a guy with binoculars the other day in an office building but,” Helena shrugged as she took a sip of her tea. “Not my goddamn problem if he gets distracted at work. Let’s see, what else....been hitting Bo Staff training pretty hard, so hard I broke a toe last year, so there’s that. I’ve tried painting but am utterly terrible at it,” she laughed, the tender sound almost foreign coming from her. “Oh, and I realized I’m a cat person. So yes, I’ll probably turn into that old cat lady you see in shows and read in books.”<br/><br/>At his mention of cooking, Helena turned towards him with her brows raised. “Yeah?” She asked, a hint of mischief in her tone. “You going to cook me some eggs when we get there?<em>I</em>personally think you should. You focusing on Markovian dishes? Or just how not to burn the chicken?” Cooking was something Helena enjoyed but, once again, had no time for. Being Italian and spending a few years in Sicily, she knew all about the importance of taking one’s time and using the freshest, grown items in dishes. There was certainly a difference in taste when one was cooking as a job, and when one was cooking as an act of love.<br/><br/>“So more about you.” She changed the gears of the conversation back on him. “Have you visited home recently? Is your brother doing alright? I remember you saying how you liked to travel—been able to do any of that lately? Explore the world? Meet a new babe in every port before leaving their broken hearts behind?” She giggled lightly before moving onto the gummy bears. She opened the bag and shook out a handful. Helena then picked out the three pineapple flavored clear gummies and handed them over to Brion. “Here.” She really wasn’t giving him an option. “You know I don’t like the pineapple ones, why the fuck the Germans thought<em>pineapple</em>was an acceptable flavor for candy, I’ll never know....”