<div class="floatleft">(https://www.papichuloradio.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/Lewis-Tan.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Damian Wayne<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>Half-naked, wearing loose black pants, chest fully bandaged up<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>August 22nd, Saturday<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>6:30 AM EST<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>JL's Secret Sanctuary, Rhode Island<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>She ain't no lady!<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Helena Bertilleni<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>"...you never could keep that mouth of yours shut, could you?"</strong><br/><br/>As far as he knew, Helena had always been like this. Blunt. Vulgar. Crude. He recognized the facade she presented as Huntress. The gear, the gadgets, even the moves she used. They were always the secondhand product of the original. A flawed copy that would never even attain the potential to surpass what they had been based on. Huntress did not possess the capacity to realize the potential of her skills, not because she couldn't but rather, because she wouldn't. And that pissed Damian off. It pissed him off alot.<br/><br/>It was fortunate that no one was around besides her, for Damian felt that spark of disdain he'd felt upon seeing her punchable face explode into pure rage. She had absolutely no right to talk about his birth. She knew nothing about him. Absolutely nothing.<br/><br/>A leg lashed out at a rack of dumbbells, smashing against it and causing dozens of weights to crash loudly onto the floor in a resounding<strong>THUMP!</strong>, resulting in a slight tremble within the shock-absorbent gymnasium surface. Blood swelled within his right leg and it soon grew purple. Not that Damian even noticed the pain. He leaped off the railings to land on the floor below where Helena awaited him, landing softly onto the carpeted surface around where the fighting mats lay.<br/><br/><em>She's always been good at pissing me off, hasn't she?</em>he thought, eyes narrowing at Helena as he strode toward her. The curved sheath of a katana to the side of him provoked a deep instinct within him. A killer instinct. It was a dark temptation, a temptation he had been forged by Mother to follow...and by Father to not.<br/><br/><em>No, I'll teach this bitch a lesson with my hands</em><br/><br/>He watched her stab a knife into a target from a distance. It failed to elicit even a blink from Damian. The overt display of her marksmanship did not faze him. He knew he could replicate that throw perfectly. It would be no problem. After all, they had trained together.<br/><br/><strong>"You've always been that same emotional girl I met years ago, haven't you, Helen?"</strong>Damian stepped onto the mat, standing in front of Huntress, refusing to address her by her full name just as she refused his.<strong>"A girl who, honestly, will never really grow up. Who'll always see the world in black and white. Who'll always allow her own petty emotions...her own self-imposed view of what's right or what's wrong...a distorted perception that she's judge, jury and executioner...it's actually FUCKING pathetic, honestly."</strong><br/><br/>He spat at his feet, his words dripping with venom,<strong>"Ha, I see now. No wonder you don't like me! It's because I am, in all aspects, BETTER than you, Helen."</strong><br/><br/>Stopping mere meters in front of Huntress, Damian snarled fiercely as he suddenly ripped off the bandages on his chest, revealing deep flesh scars all over his body, none yet fully healed. Helena's muscles were definitely more ripped and defined than his, that much was obvious. She seemed to be in peak shape whereas Damian's larger but hurt frame was a recent veteran of brutal combat. Yet, there was not even an inch of fear conveyed by his raptor-like eyes which bore into Huntress's own eyes. Damian saw nothing but the reflection of another predator of a kindred nature. He tensed his muscles, the fibers visibly undulating in spontaneous contractions all over his body, thickening, and hardening in preparation for something dangerous.<br/><br/><em>She's so small...</em>Damian thought, looking down at Helena. He frowned.<em>Yet, such a bitch too...</em><br/><br/><strong>"Speak to me as if you know me. Go ahead, feel free! But..."</strong>Damian's face darkened, he bared his teeth in an ominous grin,<strong>"As I've done to everyone else on this team, I've conducted my own private investigation into you, Helen. And can I just say...heh...I wonder what the oh-so-noble Prince Brion will think about you when I tell him about your pas-!"</strong><br/><br/>Pouncing forward, randomizing the steps he took, Damian interrupted his own sentence with a series of lunging kicks launched rapidly from multiple angles toward Huntress. He held nothing back in his strikes, each one fired at full-force with the intent to HURT Huntress. Violence was the only brand of discipline people like her understood. He knew this because...he was the same.