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Bars are so not her scene, but a scene she knows how to frequent with finesse. Easy to get a free drink with a giggle, and a compliment. Ohmygod, do you work out? and it tends to get both brains working, leveling them out like the bartender does to the inevitable glass of pick-your-poison they pour.[break][break]

Helena knows what she wants, and she takes it, that easy. Just like tonight.[break][break]

Tonight is a VIP-kinda night. Ecruteak's Theater daughter, beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, one-of-a-million dancer, recently jobless, sits quietly in a booth, checking every social she has. Enough DMs that she just scrolls over them, little care, little desire to indulge. Turns out, hot as she is, she attracts the worst kind of people. The stalkers, the try-hards, or worse, the simps.[break][break]

Oh well. The other VIP was Cillian Quinn, she guessed. Some bigwig at Rocket, underboss. The recruit over in Johto told her to meet him here if she wanted more money. She did. It was flaunting that communications major she had. Communicating with someone that all their assets were her own? Uh. Yeah, that's like her bread and butter, baby.[break][break]

So here she sits, looking as perfect as she wanted to. The leather jacket made her feel like a bad girl, but the dress underneath told a different story.[break][break]

Crossing her legs, and quietly checking her nails, she taps the table, as her little baby Litleo peeks over to the table proper. Her drink of choice? Water.[break][break]

She prefers to be in control of her actions.

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This guy was a self-righteous prick! He clearly doesn't get anything, and the disgusted look on her face, when he just ogles at her the way he does. It's primitive, like some kind of jacked-up caveman. He is so not her type, and she never gave permission to even gaze at her splendor.[break][break]

"I look fine? No, you limp dick caveman, I LOOKED amazing, until you and your ugly lizard came to ruin it!" Her tone is so much more hateful, her resting bitch face no longer in the resting position.[break][break]

Unbelievable. While Jonas was busy giving a nod to the dragon, he turns towards Helena, and the Quilava shrugs. Better to let that fire go out on its own. He'd know. And as her shrill abhorrent words continue firing out like a fully loaded uzi, she pushes it.[break][break]

"So how are you going to fix it? Hmmmmm?"

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Absolutely flaunting what she has, getting back to a more seated order after the net is handled, Helena runs hands over her hair, and begins to squeeze to get the water out. The frigid gaze is ignored, because Helena isn't at all intimidated, and when he offers the advice, she shrugs.[break][break]

"Water types are sooooo not my thing, but will do!" she bats her lashes towards the said grunt, trying to gain their attention, when Zev says something that does get under her skin.[break][break]

Uh. If it's not a vacay, why is she here then? Open seas, surrounded by lower grunts who can do her menial tasks? But if it's do work like that, or bathroom duty...[break][break]

With a squint of her scarlet eyes, she merely smiles. "Heard you loud and clear, handsome," internally, she's screaming at the idea of toilet duty. Her perfect manicure, touching disgusting toilet bowls? Uh. No. No no no. Not on his life, on his mother's life, no one. So that meant she had to get her ass in gear.[break][break]

Good thing her ass is flawless, else this might be difficult.[break][break]

"More Pokemon, fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. I can manage that," she mutters under her breath.

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That dive bomb was impressive, and on any other day, it'd be one of those impressive tricks, a little show off. But today, Helena was just trying to relax, and not get her hair ruined. But oh no, lately it's like EVERYONE is trying to get on her last fucking nerve.[break][break]

And oh, this dumbass. Let's get started with him.[break][break]

Drenched head-to-toe, and getting up, the smaller 5 foot 3 woman stands in her swimsuit, and glares daggers. She sucks in a breath. He dare ask who she, she'll answer. Oh she'll fucking answer.[break][break]

Jonas just waves as Helios, a quiet yawn from the Quilava.[break][break]

"Who am I?" she asks, red eyes filled with fury. Even if he was stacked, he was still an idiot. "I'm about to be that bitch who chews you out, you meathead!" Her swimsuit was meant for water, but she already showered, did her hair, her makeup. And he RUINED it. "Watch where you're flying that dipshit dragon!" She pointed to Helios, scowling to the Charizard.[break][break]

"Do you KNOW how long it takes to get ready in the morning?! Do you realize how long it takes for me to look as good as I do? Just to be ruined by your lack of awareness?!" Did he? Probably not.

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Oh. My. God.[break][break]

So tall, dark, and douchey wasn't a Rocket Beast for nothing. In almost one fell swoop, some monstrous Pokemon between worlds came out. Helena stared on, red eyes like a Deerling caught in headlights at the cold hours of night. She stared on, as the blood hit the water. The Tatsugiri, removed. The Dondozo, taken care of. One fell swoop, and her heart pounding from the tension began to subside.[break][break]

Holy shit.[break][break]

The thing that jerks her mind out of it all, is the yank of the net, and Helena does the same on her own end, making sure to close the net up. With no issue at all on her end, returning to the Sharpedo, she just... stares back towards the Dondozo.[break][break]

Moment they're back to the surface, her mask is off, and she has to say something. Definitely not saying sorry, but. Something.[break][break]

"So like. I passed then?"[break][break]

Jonas merely makes a noise from the boat, and waves. The Quilava happy he didn't have to go into the water himself. But he would have, if Helena had asked.

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Today is sunny. Helena's kind of day. She looks good today, and two feet in the water, kicking in the river, the black-haired beauty quietly hums to herself. Jonas, the little Quilava, is right behind her to keep her nice and warm, and it feels nice. Like a nice little heater.[break][break]

She prefers the heat. Winter. Awful. Summer, that's the season for her, any day of the week, of the month, of the year, baby. Swimsuits, and countless simps galore, and it was what she looked forward to.[break][break]

Even so, she just kicks her feet in the water. Thinking she's just alone. Jonas not even moving at all, but always with one eye open.[break][break]

She's humming, until the moment she's stopped. Any pleasantness on her face vaporizes immediately.[break][break]

Who the fuck?

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Ugh. A fake, stuffy old wig. She hates this. Contacts too to hide her eyes? Yeah, even worse. This was so stupid, and she hated it. Dressing like this, like some kind of stale, unoriginal, tacky ho was not in Helena's wheelhouse.[break][break]

Even as she tries to look good, she's having trouble making the wig work. Sunglasses aren't helping.[break][break]

"My tits aren't even showing off in this," Helena scowls, feeling towards her chest, a big frown across her lips. "I feel so powerless!" she pouts. The best she had was her legs. What if she needed to find a puppy on the fly?[break][break]

She turns towards her disguise partner. Natural actress kind of beautiful. Unfair kind of beautiful. Take her down a peg kind of beautiful. "Ugh, why couldn't my wig be white so I could show it off better?" she says so rude, so vain. Even as her Litleo, now covered in a pile of rejected outfits, pops out to nap atop.[break][break]

"Any luck?" Rude and immediately civil. Yup. That's Helena Hawthorne alright.

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Okay, ever since moving from Johto, these luscious black locks have been needing someone's touch. She's going to get split ends if she doesn't visit somewhere good. Oh but not too bitchy, she doesn't want that, no-no. If the skank doing her hair is bitchier than her, that ho will get her head bitten off. But they need a spine too.[break][break]

Rustboro should be fine. It's just a little journey for her. Apparently, there's someone here that will do a great job. And she better. Helena is paying good money for a good hairdresser.[break][break]

So when she enters the door, sunglasses and all, she pushes them up her nose with a manicured finger, before walking in like she owns the place, towards the counter.[break][break]

"Hi, I'm here for Abigail? I have an appointment." She says, in the most vain tone she can, like everyone is beneath her. Because they are, and always have been. Just more tools to use, no one ever quite matching her in her overall tone or appeal.[break]

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Nothing worse than ruining your perfectly done hair in a sea of saltwater. Dry scalp, and disgust galore. These Pokemon that swim around them, the Corphish, or the Basculin, they were much more appetizing when they were on a plate. Seafood, that's something Helena gets. Good protein, low in saturated fats, and calories, helps keep the hips in check, and a nice little perk. Sea creatures? Yeah.[break][break]

She hates the ocean. But even as she squints, and the Sharpedo takes them low, all the black-haired beauty can do is take the net, and assist Zev with casting it out.[break][break]

Still. Those Tera crystals DID look marvelous. They'd make cute jewelry, maybe...[break][break]

Oh hey. Underwater sushi. Little sushi roll on a white cloud, that looked neat. Helena bats it away when it comes close to her. Worthless seafood should learn to be subservient. As the net continues to be cast over those little heart shits, something she'd gladly sell for more money...[break][break]

She heard an odd roar.[break][break]

Turning her gaze to the little sushi roll, the TATSUGIRI found its way into the maw of a giant blue fish, and Helena glared.[break][break]

Oh.[break][break]

Maybe she shouldn't have made that little sushi guy mad... the DONDOZO begins to swim towards them in anger. The Tatsugiri? The leader.

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Oh, this smarmy bitch, calling her just a pair of tits and legs. They were FAN-fucking-TASTIC tits, and her legs were FLAW and LESS. Yes, she knows how to use her tools to her advantage, every inch and spec of her beauty to get what she wants. It's commendable, not shameful.[break][break]

"And he's a docile little boytoy who thinks too much with his cock. What's your point? If you got it, use it." she shoots back a nasty, arrogant smirk.[break][break]

The suit is on, and when he hands her an oxygen mask, her façade fades. No smile, grumpy frown, she swipes the tank and the facemask, and gets ready. Even with his instructions, she just seems more irritated. Scuba suits hid her face, her beautiful hair, her body constricted for the sake of survival. He dives before she can agree, she just takes a moment. He got her so mad.[break][break]

That grunt, she'll just have to use later to blow off steam. That'll show this prick. Turning to see that same grunt from before, she gets on the edge of the boat where Zev made his jump, and very quietly, blows that grunt a kiss before falling backwards.[break][break]

Going to need a trip to see Abigail Mikhaylov after this.[break][break]

The deep blue engulfs her, and she's underneath the waves. Annoyed as she may be, she holds up an 'OKAY' sign towards Zev, a hand outstretched towards the Sharpedo as she swims over.

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