<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)<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>Thursday, August 20<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>Very late evening, about 11:30PM EST<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Helena’s single bedroom apartment in NYC<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>Um, minding her own business and not trying to get involved with her overzealous mentor.<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Geoforce, Mentioning: Batman<br/><hr/>“<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: courier;"><em>Josh......will you accept this rose?”</em></span><br/><br/>“Oh, come on!” The irate woman sat crosslegged on the couch of her small apartment, a bowl of lucky charms balanced in her left hand, a spoon in the other, the latter of which was pointed towards the television in foolish accusation. “Are you<em>kidding</em>me, Emily? He forgot your date at the beach-<em>ugh</em>!” Helena shook her head as she dipped the spoon back into the floating feast of toasted oat shapes and marshmallows, the milk already turning a light shade of blue as she aggressively judged the woman on<em>The Bachelorette</em>show she was currently indulging in. Such a foolish thing, and yet it was taken so seriously, because to be honest.....it was a distraction.<br/><br/>Her phone vibrated for the third time near her on the cushions, but Helena ignored it, already knowing who it was but having no interest in talking to<em>Him</em>.<br/><br/><em>Him</em>and she had a bit of an argument a few months back.<em>Him</em>and her did not quite see eye to eye on a few matters of criminal investigation and justice.<em>Him</em>was clearly trying to call her in reference to that Martian ambassador getting attacked at the U.N.....<br/><br/>Well,<em>Him</em>can go to hell! Helena was clearly doing just fine with her cereal dinner, bottle of Corona, and spending the last hour watching some dumb blonde named Emily from Connecticut get wooed by a household of handsome guys.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: courier;"><em>“Jerome.....will you accept this rose?”</em></span><br/><br/>Helena muttered under her breath as she brought another mouthful of sweetened crunchy cereal bits slightly offset by the softening milk. “You dumb bitch.....” Her length of dark hair was currently gathered up in a very messy bun atop her head, and she was clearly not dressed to have any visitors or expected to leave the house for the rest of the night. The phone vibrated again, and it was ignored again. It was true, part of her still got peeved at the sight and sound and mention of the Batman, but in addition to ignoring the phone calls, Helena also felt she deserved no part in this new threat. Her home was<em>here</em>, her city was<em>here</em>, and there were no shortage of issues that could be resolved right here in her own backyard. Let the fancy, advanced, super-powered, hoiety-toitey, “oh look at me I’m from whatever planet”, weirdos in tights deal with it—Helena was needed right here in New York City and so that’s where she would stay.<br/><br/>Her show cut for commercial and so she paused with her attention and returned to her pathetic little meal when suddenly there was a knock at the door.<br/><br/>It was strange, for it was rarely a good thing to have someone knock at your door so late at night in the city. She didn’t really have any “friends”, nor was she expecting anyone, so instead Helena ignored it....<br/><br/><br/><br/>....until a second resounding knock occurred, this time a little more harsh and obnoxious. With a sound of frustration, she reached between the pillows of her couch and retrieved a stiletto 6 inch blade (http://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1054/1198/products/Screen_Shot_2016-07-13_at_8.56.18_PM_grande.png?v=1534881216) that really had no business being there. The thing was, Helena’s entire apartment was an arsenal of hidden weaponry; there was hardly a step one could take where they wouldn’t be within arm’s reach of something deadly.<br/><br/>“Go away!” She finally yelled as she set the emptied bowl down, and turned back towards the door to wait and see if the mysterious visitor would heed her final warning or not.