#hooded-hell

"Nice helmet. And nice costume I guess, but what exactly are you called? I can't really guess who or what you're supposed to be." He grinned. "Where are my manners? I'm Robin. You are?"

"Oh, real original. 'I'm trouble.'" She snorted, tossing her long mane behind her shoulders to show that no, she definitely didn't feel threatened by this guy at all. She didn't like it one bit-- his predatory circles, that is-- she couldn't keep one eye on him at all times that way, unless she turned along with him, but that would make her look like a very lost puppy. Not exactly the kind of image she wanted to project to a potential threat. As such, she stood still, back straight, chin up and arms crossed over the chest-- a pose of both defiance and royalty. She had, actually. She had done a bit of research upon reaching home, and there were tons of reports about the new group. "Just because we share a similar weapon, doesn't make us the same team. I'm nobody's sidekick." Hera said calmly, voice fueled with ferocity towards the end. Her independence was something valuable-- she wasn't going to be a sidekick cast to the shadows, she would shine in her own right. Besides, it wasn't entirely a lie-- Oliver didn't know she was back yet-- once he did, he would probably be chasing her down, and not to strike up a business deal on the whole vigilante scene. "I'm the Huntress. I'd ask who you are, but you already introduced yourself." A pause. "So what, you're going to murder a bunch of people? I thought imitation was the sincerest form of flattery."

Barbara was about to ask what he didn’t want to do but then his lips were on hers. With a noise of shock escaping her, Barbara easily shoved him away. “The fuck, Jason?” She snapped glaring at him. "If this was a bet with Tim or Dick, I will kill you and then them. I have enough Blackmail on you three."

"Jason. I've been better, to be honest."