<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>Getting snippy with an old friend<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Geoforce<br/><hr/>The moment the metal gears in the lock started to twist, the sound crashing in Helena’s ears and igniting her prowess, she swung over the arms of the couch in a knelt position. With her back to the furniture, eyes dilated into focus, and left knee down, right bare foot placed firmly on the carpet, she swung the stiletto through her expert fingers so the tip was between her index and forefinger. In a mater of nanoseconds, Helena was ready to kill whomever walked through that door, so when the object swung open she jumped to her feet, twisted her upper body at the waist, and with right arm back over her shoulder she was about to launch the weapon to flip tip over hilt before landing right in the center of the intruder’s chest....<br/><br/>.....but then she saw who it was.<br/><br/>“Brion??” Helena lowered her knife knowing it wouldn’t do any good anyway as she stared at her old companion incredulously. It was completely out of context for him to be here right now, so it took her an extra second to actually hear what he said. Such a message—it infuriated her! So acting with impulse she raised the blade back up again and hurled it with the full power of her right bicep....to land directly beside his face in the doorframe next to him. The thin blade embedded in the wood almost a full inch from the sheer power of her throw, the handle vibrating visibly as it stood perfectly parallel to the floor under their feet. Helena grit her teeth and turned away from him.<br/><br/>She liked Brion. She did. But as one would.....a distant friend that constantly disagreed with you politically. They had trained together, sparred together, had grown quite close at one point, but their moral compasses and personalities were not in tuned with each other. He seemed to always trust Batman, always took his word for it, followed orders with perfect obedience and unquestioning loyalty, like he was perfectly doing now. Apparently an extra call or text had been sent his way, the Bat somehow knowing his calls to Helena would be ignored so he sent someone to taxi her to wherever. Crossing her arms over her loose breasts to maintain some semblance of modesty towards him, the woman shook her head stubbornly and voiced her concern very very calmly and professionally:<br/><br/>“Fuck no, I’m not going.” She returned to her seat on the couch and recrossed her long legs beneath her. “You know the issues I have with<em>Him</em>. We haven’t spoken in almost a year and now suddenly he needs us, needs -me-.” She took a sip of her beer as if truly settling herself back into what she was doing before he arrived. “Well since you and<em>Him</em>are texting buddies, how about you send him my response.” Without turning back to face Brion, Helena rested her left elbow on the back of the couch and raised her middle finger his way as her “response”.<br/><br/>“Now, is there anything else I can help you with, Brion?” She casually asked, lowering her obscene gesture being sent his way. Helena turned to look back at him and raised her beer bottle, wiggling it by the neck in a mock toast. “Maybe a beer for the road? I told you I’m not going......and quite frankly.....there’s no way you can make me.....”<br/>