<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/69/ed/ab/69edabaa24c1c4bfb8d284d571f34a5a.jpg)</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>6:30 AM EST<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Secret Sanctuary Gymnasium<br/><strong>CONTENT: </strong>The Proverbial Gauntlets are Thrown<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Damian Wayne<br/><hr/>Push.....push.....push........eyelids lowering in concentration, neck straining, teeth tightly together, Helena pressed when suddenly there was a jolting lax in effort. Her eyes shot open to see an extended hand curling around the center of the bar to aid her finishing set, helping her in placing the bar back in its notched resting place. A flash of irritation offset the gratitude she should be feeling, and exhaling tightly, she took in a deep breath as her eyes blinked. Her assumption was it was Brion who followed her down here, but then the man spoke:<br/><br/><strong><em>“Even a strong lady shouldn't bench 280 without a spott-“</em></strong><br/><br/><em>Him.</em><br/><br/>Her cobalt pupils flicked upwards at his wink and her stunning face contorted with a measure of disgust. “You.<em>Ugghh</em>.” The sound came out a bit harsher than she anticipated, rising from her resting place and standing only to whirl on Damian’s retreating form. The smug look on his face had an effect on her heart, and not in the way he was most likely accustomed of swooning women and batting eyelashes, but the type of effect that had it racing for blood. A mental vision of her foot kicking the back of his skull flashed across her mind, and Helena took a step forward as if to actually make such a fantasy come true, eyes narrowing when he spoke of embarrassment.<br/><br/>There was a special fiery spot in Helena’s mind for Damian personally. Not simply because he was the son of one of the most useless and irritating men on the face of the earth, but because he was so....self-righteous about it. As if he were somehow better than everyone he met, the arrogance worn like a cloak that burned anyone who stepped too close to him. Training with him around always had made Helena feel small, even if it was purposeful or not. Nonetheless she had grown bitter because of it.<br/><br/>Nodding at his little cutting remark, Huntress snickered and walked slowly towards the main mat in the center of the room. On the steps downward, she passed the wall of various weapons two people could spar with: staffs, swords, axes, whatever the warrior fancied. Picking up a stunning little throwing knife, she held the hilt in her right hand and poked the tip of the thin blade against the index finger of her left. She spun it in thought, looking out in the mirrors of her reflection before turning to see where Damian was as he stalked the weights. “You know....the<em>real</em>embarrassment here.....” she began loud enough for him to hear her now that she was on the lower platform where the wrestling mat resided. “...Is that out of all of what your father<em>splooshed</em>out on that fateful night of passion all those years ago, you were unfortunately the fastest one in his balls.” Helena playfully pointed the knife at him as she stopped in the center of the padded square. “And yet here you are, still hanging on Daddy’s sac like the sad little baby bat that you are.”<br/><br/>She scoffed at him, purposefully goading him in such a way that desired a reaction. Maybe a part of her missed him, missed the pain they could inflict on each other. Brion had always been a great test of perseverance but he was a super, there were parts of him that had to be mildly held back when they faced off. Damian, however? Being human like she it was a more pure test of speed, strength, and wills. They knew each other’s weaknesses, how willful and stubborn the other could be; she wondered if he still had the same ones the last time they met.<br/><br/>“Come, come now, Danny....” Helena called him by the hated nickname she gave him when they were younger. She spread her arms wide in invitation. “Did you really come down here to be alone? Or maybe you wanted to see what a<em>real</em>six-pack looked like?” She playfully motioned towards her own immensely cut abdomen before her eyes raked down his bandages around his torso. “Although I would call it even less than a fair fight this time,” she shrugged casually. “If it<em>ever</em>could have been considered one.” Her muttered tone emphasized she knew, and thought, herself better than him.<br/><br/>Helena was acting overtly casual, waiting for him to join her in both verbal and physical taunts, and as she did she flipped the knife in the air to grab it by its opposite end. Flip-hilt. Flip-blade tip. Over and over again, other hand on hip to watch him closely before flicking her wrist and sending the knife hurdling towards a target on the other side before it<strong><em>thunked</em></strong>directly in the center of the red bullseye. If there was any question on Huntress’ sanity, her marksmanship was always above reproach.<br/><br/>“Huh.” She focuses on the target, bottom lip bitten by her teeth in concentration. “You know....I -do- believe I am faster than you now.” Helena than lowered her chin and looked up at him with a sultry stare from beneath thick, dark, Italian eyelashes. Her hands dropped to her sides, but the fingers were curled as if desiring to become fists at a moment’s notice. She gave him a wicked smirk. ”Shall we test such a theory?”