bertinellix

[bertinellix]

+heroicfictions

She had found out that patrolling in the winter? Not that fun.

For one, it's harder to be sneaky and jump on rooftops or whatever when everything's frozen with ice, making it slippery and near impossible for the fingers to grasp a strong hold. It's also cold as hell, when your suit's pretty much skin-tight. The coat she wears isn't good enough, and she can't wear more to keep warm since it slowed down her speed greatly, throwing off her agility and whatnot. And if fights broke out, she depended rather heavily on it.

She's not even half-way through her normal walk when she's ready to give up and return to her apartment for some hot cocoa and defrosting in the bath, but she senses someone behind her. She knows exactly who it is, and while she had known coming back to Starling City would most definitely mean meeting him again, she's really not in the mood right now.

"Oliver."

[bertinellix]

+platoniccircumstances

Gravel was flung up at a rude kick, belonging to none other than Helena. It was unusually quiet tonight-- usually, the sound of fists colliding with bone could be heard, yells of outrage piercing the air. But tonight... tonight, it seemed as if Starling City were being well-behaved, had brushed their teeth and said their prayers and was now settling in for some much-needed sleep. Or was preparing itself for the worst, either way was possible. Calm before the storm, after all.

She was debating whether it would be bad if she went home and relaxed, when she saw the blood donation truck in the otherwise deserted area. That definitely set off some warning bells-- after all, she doubted the hospitals would just casually leave their vehicles scattered all over the city. Slipping her hand to rest on her trusty crossbow, Helena advanced slowly and with light footsteps, hyperaware of all the shadows surrounding her. Spots that could betray her by hiding her enemy.

Immediately upon hearing footsteps, she hid herself, pants escaping her lips as her ears strained to hear the approaching stranger. After a few under the breath counting, she chanced a peek round the wall and was surprised to see that little blonde assistant of Oliver's making her way to the very same truck she'd been eyeing. What was going on?

[bertinellix]

Shortly after the other had entered the cabin, Hera herself trailed not far behind while wincing at the stench of perfume. Honestly, had none of her half-siblings heard about having too much of a good thing was a bad thing? She knew they weren't exactly the brightest of the bunch-- that was the Athenians, apparently-- but... come on, it was in just about every book and show to ever exist, it was the great moral of the story. At seeing the unimpressed faces of nearly everyone's in the cabin, an slight eye-roll was accompanied by a heavy sigh-- she might have been apprehensive about Calypso at first, bordering on dislike, really-- but seeing how arrogant the others were made her instantly change her mind. Anyone who possessed the divine gift of irritating Cabin Ten, especially Drew Tanaka, was a friend of hers. Not to mention it was a personal annoyance when others so obviously ostracized others.

Calypso's words broke the silence that had settled over the cabin, and everyone broke off, those with sickly sweet smiles making their way to the new girl while the shy and actually rather decent ones scurried back to their personal spots in the cabin to avoid the manipulative wrath of their relations.

"Oh sweetie, we all know who you are!" Drew giggled, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Hera rolled her eyes, making her way to the oversized closet in the opposite end of the room. "Don't worry, this is just the place to get a much needed costume change." Drew continued, snapping her fingers. One of her little followers dutifully brought out a short, sequined skirt and an embroidered tank top, knowing full well it was much too out of the newcomer's taste.

Just then, Hera broke through the little circle with a normal white shirt and a pale blue skirt that flowed past the knees. "Here, these are mine. Put them on and I'll meet you back outside."

+calypso-ogygia

[bertinellix]

Her eyes narrowed, for she wasn't exactly the dumbest person out there. Contrary, she was one who belonged to the above average class, and it was blatantly obvious to her that she wasn't being taken seriously. Her-- the one who killed people, who manage to stop a flying arrow with self-training, who right now was being treated like the prey despite her predatory stance-- was being looked down upon. Needless to say, that did not sit well at all with the raven-haired, especially not with the amount of pride she admittedly had. Not to mention, with all this blatant comparison to Oliver, she was starting to feel like the victim of sexism-- and, well, jealousy. Like hey-- she was the one in front of the other, aiming a dangerous weapon at him, so obviously there was someone else to fear other than the first vigilante.

"He's more than you'd expect, Mr. Nigma. It wouldn't be advisable to dismiss him so quickly-- friendly neighborhood tip." She didn't know what encouraged her to say those words-- after all, she more or less detested the Hood right now, and praising someone when you're turning green with envy about them doesn't really go hand-in-hand, does it? The term "madman" echoes in her mind repeatedly-- what on Earth had this guy committed to be dubbed that? He was nearly as apparently insane as the Count. "Let's not forget, Robin tended to take out the bad guys fairly quickly. Weren't a match for him."

His self-description reminded her greatly of her father-- power, power, power, all driven from fear. Who cared whose spine you broke while walking up the ladder as long as you got to the top, right? She scowled deeply, looking him in the eye. "I have a right mind to fire right now, so let's make it quick-- why don't you walk me through a detailed explanation on why you're apparently the greatest criminal out there?"

His gaze settled on the woman and he seemed generally amused by her as he leaned back and tilted his head up towards the sky. His head even gave the faintest evidence of a nod. “Oh yes dangerous streets of Starling City, where the man in a hood runs about.” Tapping his cane lightly against the wall he stood up with a quick chuckle and turned his attention fully to the woman before him. “Perhaps more frightening then the Batman I’ll admit that, I hear he actually has the guts to kill a man. That’s what any city needs isn’t it, a man who can pull the trigger or in this case the bow.” He chuckled to himself at that as he began to walk closer to her. “But even then, a madman, as I’ve been called many many times before, is hardly afraid of a man in a hood trying to play Robin Hood.” He pointed out. As he came to a stop only a few steps away from her his chin lifted and he grinned widely at her. "Besides, lets not be so foolish as to forget that I am one of the men the streets need to fear." He told her honestly while glancing to the side. "I don’t fear them, they fear me, that’s the whole point and that’s what it really is all about isn’t it? Being known, having power, it’s fun."

[bertinellix]

Could've beens. Some people constantly worried about the future, in turn forgetting how to live in the moment and enjoy the present. Some were stuck in the past, reminiscing about that first love that sent tingles down the spine and the race of a heart each time contact was made. Then there were others, such as herself, who stood somewhere in the middle-- lines could be blurred, after all. She was rooted in the past, always wondering about the turn of events, the alternatives compared to life's shitty and realistic cards. If she hadn't been so careless as to leave her laptop in Michael's bag, would it have been her to acquire a bullet in her flesh while her merciless captor grinned? Would she have worn the simple, yet elegant Vera Wang wedding gown she had purchased in anticipation to be lawfully together with her lover? Would she have become the feared, cruel Huntress who was a whole different person? She tormented herself with such thoughts late at night, when clouds obscured the moon's milkiness and sleep eluded her. If her father hadn't been such a despicable man who didn't give a damn about whoever he stepped on for that brush of addictive power, maybe she wouldn't have been exposed at such a young age to manipulation, deceit and bribes. She could've been a better person, maybe own a nice, classic three-story house with a yard behind for her children to run around and play in, build a family. But that hadn't been her fate, luck hadn't blessed her, and she isn't one who stands by the sidelines, being a useless prick while lamenting about misfortune. No, eventually, she would get up and do something about it-- one of her favorite mantras had been "Be the change you wish to see in the world." Trust was something she held in high, sacred regard. It was a slippery possession, one wrong move, one accidental word slipped and it all came crashing down. It took relatively long to gain her trust, unless one had accurate perceptiveness-- she had a tendency to build walls around her heart, and had been doing so since she was young. It was natural instinct, you automatically protected the weak, fragile and sensitive. Few actually realize it, but behind the cool facade and witty remarks, she was rather emotional. Unfortunate enough to be born with such a trait, she placed her emotions before logic, passion before fairness. A strong believer that one should always go after what the heart demands-- if it feels right, if the instinct say's it would be for the best, screw the mind and it's rational thinking and just go for it. A slight wince at the mention of the Hood makes it's way across her features-- she hardly appreciated reminders of Oliver, also known as intense jerk who decided it'd be fun to toy with her heart and break it all over again, and attempt to kill her. But then again she'd threatened him more than a couple of times, and grudgingly admitted it was fair. But still. "Relatively speaking," she says, with a slight tilt of her head, and because a sudden sense of snark grips her she continues, "It's funny, because I shared his identity once. Quentin didn't believe it at all."

Tommy couldn’t differentiate who was good or bad unless it was obviously displayed. The girl didn’t attack him, she merely called out. The young woman was probably a lot like Oliver, the hood wasn’t his mask though, it was the face he wore everyday around his family, around Laurel, and him until the secret no longer hid what being on that island did to him, how it changed the boy he grew up with. Was she as well just an ordinary person one day and the next taken over by some tragedy or longwinded crucible? That was a question he wouldn’t ask, she was a stranger, Ollie had become one too. He didn’t recognize it at first, who would when your best friend returned from the dead, when it became so much easier to admit that you miss him rather than expressing the pain you endured during his absence. Sure, him ‘dying’ gave Tommy the chance to pursue Laurel, even though it crossed an unreserved line. She was just as broken, but could only express anger because she had lost her sister on top of her boyfriend. Maybe it was the mix of anguish that drew them together, but something pulled from that and held. Like a penciled sketch, etched so delicately, mistakes were made, yet in the end a beautiful picture was formed. And like all other things, he doesn’t know how much he needed them both until they were no longer around.

There was always a reason to feel weary around people who hide their identities, but he felt it a bit more with her, maybe the memory hasn’t quite made it to the front of his mind, the one that could connect the two. Perhaps he just automatically thought the worst when it came to the vigilante type because of what transpired between him and Oliver, however he had no right to criticize her. She didn’t have anything to do with it. Tommy never realized how easy it was to lose trust, something that took so long to gain, until it was dropped in a blink of an eye. Much like Quentin, he believed in the law so to have it pushed aside so easily obscured his views.

“I guess I can’t really justify that considering the fact that I don’t know who you are,” Tommy told her after hearing the slight offence in her tone. “So, you’re trying to do the same thing the Hood is?” The idea didn’t sit well with him considering he had the chance to see the two sides. “The news is kind of hard to escape,” he simply states with a shrug.

[bertinellix]

She blinked, stunned in silence before her lips turned down in a pointedly furious display, grey eyes lit with dancing flames. How could she have been so blind and stupid, to have slept with and attain feelings for someone so dumb? In that moment, she hated herself more than she hated the man before her. Pride was, after all, her seventh sin and it absolutely crushed her to know she had given part of herself away for someone who couldn't even see that her problem was she had too big of a heart, one that felt intensely and when the love was missing, it became sour. His comment had wounded her, because if there was one thing she was absolutely certain of was that she had a heart which simply changed course... briefly.  After all, if she didn't have one, she would've taken out his already. Not to mention she wouldn't have re-played the scene where she caught the lethal arrow in her hands-- the arrow that he'd aimed with the intention of killing her-- over and over when she had escaped, agonizing herself with each second. "My intentions aren't your concern, Mr Queen." Her voice took on a dangerous note as she used the title mockingly. "If anyone's going to accuse the other of lacking a choice organ, it should be me. Did it give you satisfaction when you fed me with numerous lies, the girl who was mourning her dead fiance, promised to love her while loving someone else at the same time? Does it turn you on, knowing you slept with your girlfriend's own sister, going to the point of coaxing her on a ship that brought her untimely death?" A part of her chastised herself for using such information against Oliver-- she had, after all, promised herself she was the manipulative vixen no longer, but the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"After the last time I saw you? I’d say yes." He countered, looking the woman over. She was the same Helena he remembered only seemingly more sane. Then again ‘sane’ was a relative term and looks could be deceiving. She was the prime example of that. The last thing he needed with everything going on in his city was Helena killing more innocent people. He didn’t have the time for it but looking at her again seemed to fill his head with all the memories of her previous visit ‘home.’

Oliver’s chin tilted up out of curiosity and shook his head more to himself at the comment. “That phrase requires a heart.” He spoke coldly and fiddled with the cuff links at his wrist from the suit he wore. “You barely escaped the cops last time when you fled.. what is so pressing that you’re back again?”

[bertinellix]

"Barry." The raven-haired repeated, as if tasting an entirely foreign word that just didn't sit well in her vocabulary, but was trying to adapt. Her lips curled up into a smile as she said, "I can't really think of any deity with the name 'Barry'. Either you lucked out, or my knowledge is just a bit lacking." It could be possible-- after all, mythology hadn't interested her as it did to so many others. She hadn't planned on naming herself after the goddess known for her unrelenting wrath, she'd only chosen it because the first two letters were in common with her real name. The loud music vibrated in her ears as she shouldered her way to the front of the bar, ignoring the disgruntled curses. Most of them were drunk anyway, she was doing them a favor by obstructing their path towards more alcohol. "I'll have a Strawberry Sting," she yelled over the thumping beats, smoothly slipping out a wad of cash to boost her importance. "And my friend's going to have..." Hera trailed off, looking back towards Barry.

Verdant ♠ Helena & Barry

[bertinellix]

I'm bundled up in sweaters with a hot drink while coughing my lungs out and will now enter into the drafts. Feel free to message me if you want to plot, and I might make starters tomorrow.

And thank you two for your concern.♥

[bertinellix]

I know I said I'd do replies but I fell sick so they'll probably be done Monday I am so, so sorry.

[bertinellix]

Sorry for not being around more, I went out like, everyday this week. I promise to start on replies tomorrow.

[bertinellix]

The cold, early morning wind swirled dried leaves in the silence that ensued after his... enthusiastic response. Her arm still held her weapon in the right height, so that just a tiny pressure on the trigger would release a fatal shot. She hoped it wouldn't come to that, though-- she had been a "good girl", since her return she hadn't killed anyone. Put in the hospital, sure, but not under the ground. When her "attackers" happened to be simply an average civilian, she would usually lower her crossbow slowly and give words of warning about the dangers roaming the streets, then continue on her way. Or something along those lines. But this guy... oh, he looked perfectly normal-- well, sort of, he had rather odd mannerisms-- but something about him was seriously giving her a bad vibe. It practically rolled off of him in waves, something was up with him-- she just hadn't figured out what yet. "What brings you out so early, Mr. Nigma?" She finally asked, canting her head slightly towards the side. She blinked at the unusual surname, but shook her head softly-- totally not the point here. "It gets rather... dangerous around this city's streets, more so around this time. Might want to duck for shelter."

bertinellix:

Perhaps he was making himself too comfortable in Starling City, but he couldn’t help himself. He was liking the many supposed mask vigilantes of this town. Unlike Gotham where he only had the Batman, here he had more, so much more. What made it even better the reach people that towered above seemed just as corrupt, perhaps even more so. Wouldn’t it be fun to torment and bring this town down? His lips came together as he tapped his cane against the ground and walked down the street his lips curling slowly as he lifted his gaze and looked ahead of himself. He gave a slight chuckle and began to step forwards.  "Forgive me." He stated as he stepped out of the shadows and proceeded to bow just a little bit. "I’m Edward Nigma." He beamed.

[bertinellix]

'Huh. What's with the dress? I'm one for fashion, but that's a bit of an overkill.' The words, a blend of disinterest and mockery, left her lips few seconds after grey orbs had taken in the other's outfit. She wondered if perhaps this was another half-sibling-- - she was certainly pretty enough to be a child of the Love goddess', but if it were so then it didn't make sense why everyone in camp had been fussing prior to her arrival, and the name Calypso was whispered with reverence in all corners. After all, demigods came and went on a daily basis, and not one had required or commandeered such a grand welcome. Needless to say, no one had thought of enlightening Hera, for she had made herself a rather unwelcome presence within days of her arrival, and for her part she hadn't asked to sate curiosity, either. Hera's head turned to follow Calypso's vision, head bobbing slightly in a nod. "Well, this is the Aphrodite cabin. Greek goddess of love, beauty and... physical desire." She outright smirked at that point. "Go on in, my roommates are waiting, though be warned, there's some heavy dosage of perfume in there." Well... at least she seemed nice so far. "If you make it out alive, I'll show you around."

+calypso-ogygia

[bertinellix]

                              { i’m a nightmare, a disaster }

                    that’s what they always say;

                                            i’m a LOST CAUSE

                                 not a hero.

[bertinellix]

❥ -- Her lips curl up into a humorless smile of sorts, but her light optics-- - not protected by dark contacts while she's decked out in her Huntress costume-- - narrow in more than mild suspicion. Because let's be honest, when someone pointedly robs you of a necessary or desired information that should have been easy to obtain, then it means the, most likely, that person is hiding something and it's human nature to fight the unknown. Because the hidden is associated with deceit, with lies and treachery, the unpleasant things present in the mortal world. "I think, by stating that, you've simply made yourself more valuable." She has a brief moment where she wants to use the threatening approach to get answers-- - most people tend to weather down in the face of possible death. But something tells her that's not going to work with this stranger, that only patience and a plan can lure him out. But see, while possessing the intelligence to formulate a plan, she's much too impatient to make sure it's effective, or go to the lengths of weaving one. So she lowers her weapon, just slightly. "Well?"

bertinellix:

       [ she’s new, it’s different, and if his track record is anything to glance at, jason has a tendency to follow what’s different; follow and investigate.

       it should be a problem — jason thinks — that starling is becoming like a second home. that since felicity he’s spent nearly as much time here as he does in his own city. it should be a problem. this isn’t his turf, not his grounds. red hood of gotham city shouldn’t feel the need to protect one that isn’t his own, nor should he even be risking his life to do so.

                                  and yet here he is now.

       through white lenses and the holes of his helmet does jason watch the other, until a small slip-up and suddenly—. oops. looks like he’s been found out. ]

                                               “——No one worth mentioning, I’m sure.”

[bertinellix]

"Do I honestly need to give a reason?" Her full lips were curved into a small smirk, arms crossed over her chest as she taunted the man before her. Oh, she could've gone easy and just spilled the beans, give an outright answer, and she would have because she preferred being straightforward than playing silly mind games-- mostly. But this was Oliver, she wanted to come off as better than ever despite what she had been through, change the apparently wounded image he had of her. Because there were few things that got her mad as much as being pitied or treated like a broken case, even if she might be one. "Starling City's my home. I was born in these streets, and grew up in the streets. Ever heard of the phrase 'Home is where the heart is'?" Or something like that.

Oliver’s eyes remained locked on the woman as she stood in front of him. She fled the last time he saw her, killing his girlfriend at the time. The huntress took her like and now she stood in front of him talking about pasta. Ignoring her words he continued, body visibly tense. “What are you doing back in Starling City?”

[bertinellix]

A thin brow arched at the brunette's apparent solid reluctance on letting her in. After all, most people would nod at the guest and offer a glass of water if they were hospitable. If they weren't, they would at least let in the guest still, but probably coupled with nasty looks and faint warnings or threats. But that's the thing-- the youngest Queen wasn't doing anything like it, she was at the far end of being uninviting, and didn't look like she would budge anytime soon. The actions confused Hera-- there was no reason for Thea to be so uptight-- this was past the point of sibling protectiveness. Especially when she hadn't done anything personally offending to the younger one, and when it was a well-known fact the latter was rather laid-back most of the time. At least, she was at parties and such events. She even recalled conversing with Thea a long, long time ago. It hadn't been anything terribly significant, their talk had barely lasted three minutes and it had been about mundane stuff such as the weather, so it wasn't entirely surprising it hadn't been remembered. But Thea had been much more pleasant then, so what was the difference now? "I'm Hera, we've met briefly years before." She said, swallowing down her growing impatience and holding out her left hand for a friendly shake. Patience had never exactly been her virtue; she rushed in nearly all things, so when she decided to take her sweet time-- such as collect evidence and build a successful case against her father-- it meant she was deadly serious. And right now, the other was testing her patience, or lack thereof. 

Another Ex, Fantastic!: Helena & Thea

[bertinellix]

7, 8

Rhymes with heaven so what the hell? What's the MUN's idea of a perfect day?

Perfect day, huh? This is rather hard. Any day is perfect as long as I’m happy— - like, ‘perfect’ could be cooking with my mother and her boyfriend, or hanging out with my friends without feeling left out, reading a great book, I don’t have an exact one in mind. The day I’m told I get my own room would be pretty sweet, though.

Something the MUN hates

I hate so many things, gosh. I hate spiders, I have arachnophobia. Horror movies. People who slam Alexandra Daddario being casted as Annabeth. People who tell me I can’t say or post something, basically limiting me. People who make me feel inferior to them, Olicity, around ninety per cent of the Percy Jackson fandom, myself. Basically I hate people. Wait, no, I hate certain behavioral patterns that are common in humans including myself. Yes.