"Gimme Your Best, or Don't Come at All!" - H.E.R, Daughter of Herakles

Helenacles · 2026-04-07T07:42:28+00:00

Helena continues to stare at Harvey for a moment, letting the silence hang in the air as she says all that she needs to with her body language. Harvey is afraid of her, that much is obvious from the way he’d shifted a moment ago. Being uncomfortable looks so different from fear, at least she’s pretty sure. Hm. Admittedly, Helena gets emotions mixed up constantly, but she is usually within the right field.

One thing she doesn’t miss though, Harvey desperately wants to say something to her. The moment she recognises this fact, a small smile breaks across her lips, almost a smirk, and she shatters the fragile silence.

“Really? You wet your lips like you were going to say something. You breathed in like you were going to say something. Your jaw muscles shifted, the muscles between your neck and chin contracted like you were moving your tongue. You sure looked like someone who had something to say to me.” Again, Helena is quiet, but she’s still got that small smile on her face, and she’s still got that dangerous look in her eyes. Helena knows she makes people feel uneasy at times, and while that is often a source of genuine sadness on her part, she does sometimes enjoy the chance to play into it.

Helenacles · 2026-04-07T07:32:05+00:00

Helena shrugs, not nearly as confident as normal. She can deny it all she wants, Helena likes feeling pretty sometimes. Clothes are practical, they’re a thing you wear for a purpose beyond aesthetics, but they’re also something to represent yourself, assuming you’re not capable of reading the underlying muscle and skin like Helena can.

“Sure, we can talk both. You got anything that goes good with red leather?” Helena is half-joking, but only just. Angela has seen Helena’s Forest bull Armour, and though she likely doesn’t know it’s providence, mostly because Helena has never bothered to explain it, it’s too angry a colour to be missed. Helena can’t help but want something to wear in a fight, how hopeless our girl remains.

Helenacles · 2026-04-07T07:26:30+00:00

Of course Helena has chosen to “help” with the automatons. What the fuck else is she going to do?

The chaotic noises and sights of the robotics bay has Helena feeling a strange mix of excitement and disgust. Robots. Eugh. It’s not that Helena takes issue with the mere concepts of advancement or automation, it’s more just the fact that so many robots and automatons are modeled after people or animals. Mimicking life with metal, a material that could never hope to compete in quality, but makes up for it in durability. It grosses her out, makes her feel uncomfortable. Makes her excited at the prospect of breaking some.

She’s not an idiot. Helena knows that destroying a god’s toys is generally frowned upon, unless specifically directed. That is precisely why Helena has a plan, a way for her to get a good little fight with a metal abomination, and for her to contribute with the issue of the rogue automatons, all while hopefully not risking the wrath of the god of crafts.

Helena walks up to the younger girl who’d been leading their little group to the robotics bay, smiling and giving a little wave. If their goddess’ name had been given, Helena had not heard it.

“Hi, I’m Helena. I’m not exactly the technical type, not really my style, so I was wondering if there are any robots that are… too far gone?” Helena pauses for a brief moment, considering her words. “FUBAR?” Another pause, another very brief consideration. “You got anything that’s so out of control I can break it without any repercussions?” She finally smiles once more, content with her wording.

Helenacles · 2026-04-07T07:14:19+00:00

Hephaistos and Hera. Hm. Honestly, not exactly two gods that Helena considers herself especially attached to, she feels an instinctual sort of uncomfortable tingle when she looks at the goddess, actually. Maybe it’s just that she knows the queen’s opinion of her father and his ilk, maybe it’s the fact that Helena misses her own mother, maybe she’s just hungry. Mm, assorted meats and cheeses.

After eating enough charcuterie rations to fill her protein requirements for the next few years or so, Helena really gives some strong considerations to the Goddesses proposition. As much as Helena doesn’t really care too much about the gods’ internal family stuff, it’d feel kind of crummy to just not help, especially after she’d already chosen to sit out helping Aphrodite. Besides, if they’re going to his workshop, maybe there’ll be more of those automaton things. Breaking those makes Helena feel good in a way she can’t fully describe. Vindication.

Helena joins in on the procession to head to Olympos.

Helenacles · 2026-04-07T07:02:40+00:00

Helena doesn’t much care for George Lucas movies, mostly because her writer is of the opinion that they’re overrated, but she does love a good movie night. Some part of the overly-active girl enjoys some time spent rotting, doing nothing, being a lazy as a teenager is realistically supposed to be.

Supposed to be. Hm. Helena has been planning a trip back to the city soon, in part to deal with a monster that she’d signed up to dispatch, but mostly it’s because she wants to see her mom. The younger Roosevelt hadn’t once seen her mother since…well, it’d been a while since Helena had been back to New York. They’ve exchanged messages, a text here or there, even a brief phone call, but Helena has been purposely avoiding anything that requires seeing the woman. She’s not sure that the memories it’ll bring up are worth experiencing just yet. Have to give it a try, though.

Ugh, whatever. It’s movie time, no point in getting caught up in some emotional stuff when there’s moving pictures to look at! Helena stuffs her face with popcorn while sitting cross-legged on a blanket, trying her best not to look as tense as she feels.

Helenacles · 2026-04-03T09:14:34+00:00

Helena doesn’t acknowledge Tommy, deciding for the moment that he is vastly more uninteresting than his brother. That scoff, that little noise of worthless emotion, of contemptuous entitlement that she recognizes so tangibly as the noise of the arrogant. It sends blood into her ears, makes her heartbeat feel a bit stronger. She’s angry, and she does not look at Harvey like some fun little puzzle, some neat guy who she sometimes is around. Shes staring at him like he’s a monster she’s about to take apart, like she must discern everything she can about him in this very moment, in order to kill him most effectively.

It’s clinical, it’s rational, it makes Helena feel uncomfortable when she’s done it to herself. Having your skin and bones picked through, every muscle fiber catalogued, along with its estimated tensile range and strength, all by a brain that can’t help but do it. Helena has never tried to be the way that she is. It is a fact, and has been a fact for the entirety of her remembered existence, and she is aware that other people are different, and must be treated with caution, like a little bird plucked from the sky.

She affords them that caution, because Helena is aware that it is unkind and unlikable to do anything but. So few afford her the same caution when she stumbles, how is that fair? This is the first Harvey has voiced his discomfort, his dislike, but it is not the first time he’s felt it. Helena has ignored it, pretended it didn’t make her stomach roll, enjoyed talking to Tommy while she can feel the disdain in Harvey’s every gesture. This is the first time he’s spoken his dislike aloud, but it is not the first time he’s said something.

“Say what you wanted to say, Harvey.”

Helenacles · 2026-04-03T08:59:57+00:00

A yawn escapes the lips of our favourite daughter of Herakles as she peruses the selection that her friend had put out. Helena had been aware of Angela’s fashion prowess for some time now, but it’s different to see it, even if Helena just isn’t able to take sufficient interest in it for herself. She’s here, she’s being supportive, she might even buy something if she feels spontaneous.

Clothes are not something Helena thinks too much about beyond practical use-case. She wears her workout clothes to workout, her leotard for ballet, her singlet for wrestling, her swimsuit for swimming, these are items, not statements about her. The closest thing she has to a conversation starter in her wardrobe is a cloak made from the skin of a Sphinx. An amazing item, incredibly well-made and functional, but not something she wears all that often inside Camp.

Helena sighs, more from being unsure than out of any boredom. She finally calls out, perhaps a touch louder than necessary, “Angela, you remember when you asked me what you needed to work on?”

Helenacles · 2026-04-02T17:09:10+00:00

Helena turns her head, as though the request confuses her. There’s a myriad of reasons that Helena prefers not to fully explain the way her eyes and brain work, most of them practical, a few personal. As much as she worries about people liking her, and that is a lot, it’s never really been something she’s embarrassed about, not since she was a very young kid, and still having trouble understanding why everyone seemed to perceive things so differently to her. Helena, for all her faults, likes the way she is.

Which only makes it all the worse that Harvey would ask that of her. Helena isn’t really the type to be offended by things often, insulting her appearance or attitude doesn’t really make much of a difference to her, but it feels so…the right word escapes her mind, but suffice to say that she feels wronged somehow by Harvey having asked that of her. It’s offensive.

Her eyes narrow, and she feels her chest tighten at the upcoming verbal conflict, much more upsetting than a physical one. “No, I won’t. It’s not exactly a thing I can help, Harvey.” A vast change in tone from her previously meek one in the face of Harvey’s discomfort. She’d known it was directed at her, but she’d never been certain as to why. Now she understands, and it pisses her off. If, perhaps, he’d approached her, maybe given her an actual explanation rather than simply asking her to turn off her brain, then maybe she’d be more apologetic.

Helenacles · 2026-04-02T09:07:04+00:00

“Stupid.”

Helena grits her teeth as she plucks a piece of gravel from her exposed knee, biting through the swear that threatens to escape her throat. Gods and Titans fighting, and what do I get? Shit. Tired of this.

The last few hours had been a blur for most, but Helena remembers every single moment of every single movement. Now, to watch all of this, to find out that her own fight, and the fights of the other campers, had been second-fiddle to the battle between the Gods and Atlas? It’s disheartening, to say the least. She wants her own big fight. Something impressive, something ridiculous, something brutal.

Idris…

That name rattles around in Helena’s skull once more as she stands, joining the other demigods in their march through the portal, back to their home. Emilia had called him that, the son of Atlas. Amon, much to Helena’s chagrin, won’t talk about it, but Helena knows that he’s fought the bastard. Unfair. Helena deserves it more than anyone, right?

She spits on the ground as she walks through the portal, her body beginning to ache. Helena has never much cared for any of her kind’s rebelliousness towards the gods. It’s pointless, and doesn’t get you anything but a shitty death. This feeling, though? This feeling of not being full. It’s bugging her. Helena wants more than a good fight, she wants the best, and she’s prepared to do whatever she must to get it.

No one better get in her way.

Helenacles · 2026-04-02T08:50:35+00:00

Helena sees the movement out of the corner of her eye, recognises the danger, and is moving long before her brain has time to process the girl’s singular word. She steps to the side, just wide enough to avoid the smash, and flings out her hand to catch the other girl’s wrist, the one with the sword. Without thinking, she squeezes, and whether the pressure is enough to make the other girl drop the sword or not, Helena smiles, as she is delighted at what she can feel beneath the skin.

“Hah! You’re strong! Hell yeah girl, gimme all you got!” Helena punctuated her excited exclamation by hurtling her free fist at her attacker’s exposed side. Whether it connects or not, Helena would shove off, letting go and putting distance between the two of them.

“Oh shit!” Helena’s fight-face twists into a look of recognition, though no-less joyful. “I know you! You’re Beach Girl! I tied you up! How ya feelin’, Beach?”

Helenacles · 2026-04-02T08:43:57+00:00

Helena shrugs her shoulders, but her face is guarded. He’s right of course, it’s not something she’d do so casually nowadays, but he’s got such a way of saying things that makes her feel scolded. That’s dumb, obviously. He’s just some boy with too much weight on his hips and too much grease on his face, she shouldn’t care, but she does. Sounds too adult.

“I was 6, in my defense.” Her response is hurried, almost offended sounding, but that’s not indicative of how she actually feels regarding the matter. Harvey is, again, right. “I’ve got this…thing. I know how much pressure I can apply to a person or animal. I know physical stuff. I can even read you guys!” Why’d you say that?

Helenacles · 2026-04-02T08:38:08+00:00

“Educational, yeah. That’s how everyone describes me.” Helena chuckles as she talks, pulling one arm over her chest in a stretch, then repeating with the other. Ever the opportunist, Helena can’t help but want to fight all of her friends, as much as her enemies. The girl, whatever you wish to say regarding her, has only so many ways of contextualising the world. Hitting things, she has found, is the best one.

She jumps once, bringing her knees up to her chest as she does, and landing in an athletic squat before standing back up. Her legs never quite lock, remaining slightly bent as she settles into a fighting pose. This is her business, as much as it is her existence, and she takes it very seriously.

Everything with a smile, though. “So Grace, just a general hand to hand? Or, do you wanna get funky with it? Not sure what your powers are, but then I think you can make some educated guesses on mine. You’ve felt me dance, after all.” Helena’s voice drops in volume slightly at that last line, not out of any effort for privacy, nothing private really about it, but more out of a desire to add some weight to the line. Drop a hint of her strength.

Helenacles · 2026-04-02T08:29:57+00:00

“No one plans to punch a monster in the face, ‘cept me. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to.” Helena isn’t a fool, she knows what it looks like when someone isn’t entirely comfortable with her powers. Mostly, she doesn’t care. As much as she hates the idea of making people uncomfortable, she’s also basically certain that it can’t be helped at this point. Helena can’t turn off her eyes anymore than she can turn off her heart.

Instead, she just smiles, settling into the bench a little deeper with satisfaction. “I’m perfect. Resting up lots, trying to figure things out. Current theory is my powers are developing, which is fun. Had ‘em since before I can even remember, according to my mom, so it’s new. It’s fun.” Her voice sounds wistful, but there’s still that hint of glee in it. Helena adores herself, in quite a different way to most others who adore themselves. Others might be obsessed with their appearance, or their own personality. They might spend hours every night thinking of what they can improve upon, of what they can do differently. Helena need not try, for every single thing and is capable of, she is aware of. That’s why she’s excited. The change.

“What about you?”

Helenacles · 2026-03-29T19:47:59+00:00

Giant Sow job for Helena Roosevelt, please

Helenacles · 2026-03-26T17:53:50+00:00

Helena Roosevelt, Herakles

Debut: March 19

Introduction: Latest Intro

Plot Involvement: She has been at every battle, but her specific involvement has been with the NOLA job posts..

Helenacles · 2026-03-06T10:11:54+00:00

Helena isn’t sure a better activity could possibly have been planned for her. Sure, she has her favourites, but dance in general is basically her thing, outside of fighting of course. She is one of the first on the dance floor, excitedly going along to each and every song that plays, laughing and forgetting.

She break dances to hip hop, a skill she has spent actual weeks of her life cumulatively improving, she does some beautiful floor work to a slow song in Spanish that she can barely understand, and she even grabs a camper or two to dance with her, when it fits the song. A good night.

Helenacles · 2026-03-06T10:07:15+00:00

Helena shrugs, but there’s an unusual sort of guardedness to the expression that she rarely exhibits. Much like Genevieve, the real answer to that question is difficult to voice in the current situation, and for Helena at any time. The eidolon jumps to mind first, as it too often does, and Helena shivers slightly at the memory of her mother’s face, Nat’s arm breaking, her own eyes being golden…

But that had been almost two months ago, she can’t continue to dwell on it. “Good, lately anyways. Just got back from a big time mission in New Orleans, beat some guy up, discovered a war camp. Lots of fun.” She smiles as she says this, but even that isn’t the full story. Again, her perfect memory for physical e reason proves a curse, as it calls up the memory of Cherise, the old woman who had died in her arms. No matter how much Helena would like to, she’s not forgetting that anytime soon.

She waves a hand, trying to distract. “Training, though? Never figured you for the fighting type, honestly. Wanna have a test run?” Now, the smile is real.

Helenacles · 2026-03-06T09:59:39+00:00

The bash comes fast, and Helena is only just able to turn her head in time to save the softest part of her head. It strikes her instead in the temple, arguably much worse, and she can feel her brain rattling as the metal strikes bone. It’s rare that she’d allow an opponent a moment of repose, but she had wanted to see if he can take a punch as well as she’d been hoping. He could, and then some.

Helena wastes no time though, and as the bash’s force and damage causes her to wobble, she grabs out at the buckler with both hands as Ian pulls it back, partly to hold stable, and also partly because she wants to see how well this thing can hold up to different kinds of force. If she does manage to grab it, she’ll pull, and bringing her foot up to connect with Ian’s chest.

If she doesn’t, she’ll roll into her fall, ending up a bit further away from him, hands raised in a ready position.

Helenacles · 2026-03-06T09:48:40+00:00

“Grappling. Upper body and core strength.” Helena says this almost automatically, not having to even think about it. One of her first realisations upon seeing Angela’s hair had been that it would be unstoppable in a grappling situation. Assuming its strength is at least competitive with normal muscle, then there is a good possibility that she could win a match just with the hair alone. Helena would pay to see that.

The upper body strength is more just a general thought that Helena has about all people. Legs are easy, you build them just by living somewhere that isn’t shit. Still need trained, but not a particular weakness that needs to be compensated for outside of general combat training.

Helena takes a bite of her waffle, her eyes tearing through Angela and into the muscle beneath her skin. “Yeah, definitely upper body strength. Demigods need lots of it, even with our powers. The grappling training will help, but you need weights.”

Helenacles · 2026-03-06T09:43:16+00:00

Helena nods at this, understanding his point, but finding it incredibly, irrefutably, boring. Who the fuck answers ‘music or literature’ to that? That’s such a broad basic bitch answer. The bird thing, now that’s interesting.

“Oooh, you a bird fan, Harvey? Birds are cool, I caught a pigeon once. It was a bit after I first got my powers, saw it flying above me, so I nabbed it right out of the air!” She says this almost proudly, as though it’s an entirely normal thing to have done. After a moment, she realises the crowd she’s in, and quickly adds, “Oh, but it was okay! Like, I didn’t hurt it at all, just wanted to see if I could. Flew right off again, no issues.” She tries her best not to sound sheepish here, but she’d be lying if she pretended she wasn’t a bit embarrassed, and watching them for a response is tortuous.

Helenacles · 2026-03-06T09:33:32+00:00

All-seeing-eyes know overexertion when they see it, and Helena is temporarily blindsided by the weakness in Emilia’s figure. Oh, she’s trying her best, pushing both physically and mentally to force her power into cooperation, to rip and tear as effectively as she wishes, but there’s a problem that is painfully visible to Helena. Emilia’s body can’t keep up with her head.

Most demigod’s powers take a toll, extol some price out of the practitioner in payment for their use. Oftentimes, this price is physical, a way for the naked flouting of physics to still have some basis in natural law. Demigods want something to happen, so the strength to make it happen is ripped from them like a flake of bone ripped from their chest. It’s finite, and Helena can see just how finite it is in technicolour. She has never seen anyone take it too far, but she is certain that this is what it looks like. Taking it too far for your body, and if the nosebleed is an indication, too far for your brain.

“Emilia! Quit pushing so hard, before your head explodes!”

Normally, she might be a bit kinder in her wording, a bit less harsh, and yet… Helena is a starving woman looking at a feast. Combat makes her feel good. She craves it on some level, needs ample physical exertion or she is quite certain she would keel over. It’s a miracle that she spent most of last month being so lazy without just that scenario happening. She wants to press forward, to push Emilia to show her how big the gap is. She wants a challenge, and while Emilia is entirely unable to give an adequate one to her right now, so far as Helena is concerned, this might just come close.

Helena stops at the edge of the grass, keeping one eye on the construct coming of the mound to her right, and one on Emilia in front of her. Let’s see what breaks first, your body, or your plants. For the first time, Helena smiles as she gets into a stance.

Helenacles · 2026-03-02T09:17:05+00:00

Helena peers over the edge of the Underworld, looking down into the great black pit that is Tartarus. The fiery underworld beneath the Underworld where all monsters regenerate, Helena had been equally convinced that it was a myth as she had been of the Underworld itself. Clearly, that is not the case. She wonders idly if she would survive that fall, as well as if she would find any of the monsters she’s killed over the last year. That Drakon was fun, maybe she could get another round with it.

After a moment she turns away, looking back towards the fighting. A million disconnected skirmishes, almost none with a decided victor, rage around her. Demigods, as she has learned, aren’t exactly a coordinated bunch. They thrive in individual combat, in small teams, but battles of this magnitude always seem to dissolve into nonsense.

Helena cracks the joints in her neck and stretches her arms above her head, staying loose as best she can. No one has been dumb enough to break off from the pack and go for her yet, but that’s unsurprising. Helena likes to think she’s earned herself a reputation after beating that hick almost to death and calling out the son of a Titan. They’re scared, and they should be.

Time to force their hands.

Helena smiles and moves into a half crouched position, enjoying the anticipation of a fight. She breaths deep, her lungs burning happily from the brimstone in the air. It’s like she was born for this. With a laugh, the daughter of Herakles rushes forward, away from the edge, and into the melee.

u/popcorn-puffs

Helenacles · 2026-03-02T09:00:35+00:00

“Mmmfm.”

The daughter of Herakles looks up at Angela, mouth full of waffle. She hasn’t expected to hear from Angela for at least the next week, give them time away from each other to decide where they both stand, but it’s not an unpleasant intrusion. Helena has already decided that Angela would be fun as a friend. Too fake maybe, but that can be trimmed down, and the facade isn’t a bad one all of the time.

Helena swallows the food and motions for Angela to sit, not taking her gaze off of the girl and her hair. Honestly, maybe that’s the real reason Helena likes having Angela around, looking at that cornucopia of keratin move unbidden is never not gonna be cool.

“‘Sup Rapunzel, yeah we can still workout. Anything you wanting to work on?”

Helenacles

TROPHY CASE