There was always a split second in the Zeta tube where Kassandra didn’t know which way she was going. Her stomach split with her sense of water; her eyes and ears argued with her body about where the surface was. Of course she had seen Black Canary dial in the coordinates to New Zealand. Her mind knew the destination. But her body was determined to argue. She heard the others before she dared open her eyes to see them. Solid ground rested under her toes, and the first thing she saw when she stabilized was - Her Kila, the core of her compass, patiently waiting to be at her side. He was fathoms beyond her reach tonight. The clothing made him beautiful, but his bearing made him royal. Thanks to Vixen and a last minute costume change, she could at least match his elegance. She’d never worn anything so fine before. Gold silk wreathed her curves as she stepped out into the hangar. Her gown bore the same ankara leaf pattern, trailing down on the sheer sleeves that trailed her like the fronds of a poisonous jellyfish. A crown of white cowrie rounded her bountiful billow of black curls. Finally, at the base of her throat, against her heartbeat, lay a choker of matching silk with a silver lion’s head. The exact match to Kila’s, impossible to miss when she proudly raised her head. It said everything without a word. The girl in gold belonged to the prince of lions. All who witnessed her glory should bow their heads and praise Lady [Url=https://youtu.be/0FMQGzjZt1Y?si=CF-PGY3ZsCjHzwDW]Yemoja[/url]. She took Kila’s hand, and eyed the waiting luxury jet like it was a personal insult to have to take her feet from the ground. - Origami watched as her temporary allies assembled. The expressions on her face were minute and difficult to parse. A furrow in her brow. Distaste? Curiosity? A quirk of her lips. Amusement? Or mockery? The only clear signs of something other than concentration were a startled fluttering of the eyelashes when Meilin Li arrived. And then a faint huff as Buredunia’s heir apparent strolled by her like she didn’t exist. It almost seemed like she was irritated – but when Lady Yemoja appeared seconds behind him, her face smoothed into something like understanding. [b][color=#9B2242] “This is all of you, then? At least you’re on time.”[/color][/b] The boy in the black gown was her first victim. She stalked to Zach, 6 foot more of muscled grace, and looked down at him. A sneer lifted her lips as she mocked the cadence of his voice. [b][color=#9B2242]“It’s giving… stolen Black culture and Lifetime TV budget. Save the bathrobe for your sloppy seconds next time.”[/color][/b] Her tone reeked of dismissal before she pivoted to eye the pair of bodyguards. Copying Bulwark’s slav squat in one motion, she raised her eyebrows at him. [b][color=#9B2242]“Dúfam, že máš wifi.”[/color][/b] Slovak slipped just as easily from her as English had. Her nails tapped out two eyes, then smeared the curve of an emoji smile across the mouth of his mask before she rose. That motion brought her just over the head of Red X, who she studied sharply. There was a quiet moment, as if she was trying to look through his disguise with sheer focus. She stared, unblinking. But whatever she was looking for, she didn’t find it. All that she said was, [b][color=#9B2242]“They said you were dead, X. Welcome back.”[/color][/b] A snap of her cape marked a comment thrown over her shoulder at Damocles and Fulgore. The bearing that had shown begrudging respect for Red X had been replaced by barely disguised derision. [b][color=#9B2242] “The grunts can wait while the important people are speaking. Hold your tongue or lose your paycheck.”[/color][/b] Neither of them seemed to warrant eye contact. Instead, Origami began to circle Meilin Li. [b][color=#9B2242] “You look... familiar.”[/color][/b] Again, another member of the team would endure that uncanny yellow stare. [b][color=#9B2242] “Aha! I remember. J. Mueser’s fall line, last year. Bespoke, of course.”[/color][/b] Apparently it was the fashion, not the face, that stood out in Origami’s mind. She nodded, a seemingly genuine look of appreciation on her face. [b][color=#9B2242]“I didn’t even know he fit women. Jealous!”[/color][/b] Apparently Li had passed some kind of test. Finally, she came to the veiled black Dahlia. One step, then another, and a third, until she was positively looming over the other girl. [b][color=#9B2242] “Tch! This will never work.”[/color][/b] She scoffed, putting a hand on her shoulder without a hint of fear. [b][color=#9B2242]“If you’re going to play the mysterious beauty, you’re going to have to get your posture proper.”[/color][/b] Her hands moved, adjusting Dahlia’s body as if she were a trainee, or a doll. [b][color=#9B2242]“Chin up. Stop slumping. Eyes to the back of house. Walk into the room like god sent you as a punishment.”[/color][/b] Her touch slid away as she pivoted, and stalked toward the jet. [b][color=#9B2242]“Alright people, knees to chest. There’s not ten minutes difference between fashionably late, and can’t read a clock, and we’re pushing it.” [/color][/b] Already, the team had seen several different postures and moods from Origami, one after the next like an actor switching roles. Were any of them real? Or were they all as flimsy and flexible as paper?