Some religions are against the construction of images of their gods; she had learnt that in her seventh grade correspondence class. She was in Greece with her mum, shackled to thick books about religions of the old and new, while Helena dug through their histories.

She hadn't gotten far into her knowledge of the Gods of Ancient Greek at the time, but if they were one of the religions that couldn't give their deities faces, Cassie was screwed in that aspect. During a short reprieve from her schoolwork, she had found herself exploring some of the grass covered enclaves around the area, one of which, she had found a thin, golden piece of rope.

Her instinct for the past year has been to believe, that if she had known where it would lead her, she would never have picked up the lasso.

But more and more often, with every new day holding this amount of power, Olympia finds herself edging closer and closer to the belief that if faced with the situation again, she would make the exact same choice – despite the consequences it has brought her.

- "This lasso will give you more power than you could ever dream of having." His voice was deep – guttural. "Fuelled by war, the conflict of men – with this lasso in your possession, you will rise above them all. You will be a goddess, a divine being in their eyes." Ares drew closer with the whisper of a death-coloured breath. "You will be my prophet to the human world." –

She strides into the empty living quarters of their little 'team' with a frown on her face. After Changeling had debriefed the job to Queen Bee, he had followed Drake's path straight to the mission control room, clearly avoiding Olympia so to not be asked about what had happened on the roof in Dubai.

Neither she nor Drake had decided to tell Queen Bee of Changeling's little reunion with his 'sister' on their mission, but that didn't mean that Changeling wouldn't. Olympia had noticed that their assassin tended to display a fatal loyalty complex when it came to their employers.

She isn't entirely sure about him. Granted, he has been under Queen Bee's thumb and on the job for years longer than her, and would most definitely be more influenced by lessons of the Light than of some long lost connection to the Justice League's 'Covert Team' - but sometimes she finds herself wondering, if he ever wonders.

But so far, on the surface at least, Changeling has shown no nature of questioning towards their orders or bosses (as for Drake - well, Cassie is quite certain that no-one really knows what is going on in his head).

Much unlike the fourth member of their group.

Arsenal kicks the door to their quarters open, the ever present cocky grin gracing his face. He winks at Olympia and lies on the couch with his arms folded behind his head, and the golden sheen of his bionic arm glints.

Olympia rolls her eyes. "Do I even want to ask why you're so chipper tonight?"

"Oh, just the wonderful pleasure that comes from doing my job," Arsenal kicks off his boots. "Do you want to know what I did today? I think you do."

"Let me guess." Throwing his legs off the couch, Olympia seats herself on one of the cushions. "It didn't involve staying at base like you were told to do."

"Huh. You know, I've never really pegged you for the brainy type, Olympia. Beauty and brawn, sure - but who knew you had a mind under all that blonde hair?"

Her lasso is in her hand and wrapped around Arsenal's neck in that same amount of time that his bionic arm has shifted into its gun form and pressing on her temple. Olympia growls, tightening the golden cord around Roy's neck as a smirk draws across his face.

"Still as easy to get a bite out of as always, Cass." He leans forward, the gun pulling back in to make room for his metal hand to move behind her head and push her forward for her lips to meet his. Her grip on the lasso loosens as she pulls on his lips with her teeth and he tugs at her blonde locks.

When her brain is finally able to peel her body away, she notes the cocky smirk that still graces Roy's lips. She scowls, sending a fist to lightly (by her scale) hit him square in the diaphragm. Arsenal's heavy breathing is cut off with a wheeze and he clutches his stomach to roll off the couch with a thump.

"Luthor and Bee are going to kill you one day, you know," Olympia says, wiping saliva off from her face. "They're going to kill you and I'm going to just stand there and watch."

Arsenal laughs between gasps for air. "As if they'd get their hands dirty for someone like me," he chuckles. "Nah, they won't kill me. They'll just get their special green assassin to do the dirty work for them. You know, like they do with everything else."

Cassie immediately looks towards the door, making sure it's closed and Changeling - or anyone - isn't around to hear Arsenal's typical spiel.

"Or maybe I'll be a special case. Maybe they'll get you to take your first kill in me." Arsenal snorts as Olympia begins to walk away. "Do me a favour, Cass. If you're the one who has to kill me, make it quick, okay? I mean, you can make it as messy as you like, but at least-"

"Will you ever stop?" Cassie knocks a mug off the counter as she snaps. The ceramic shatters as it hits the floor. "Fuck, do you want them to make me kill you?" Arsenal's eyebrows raise a fraction.

"I'd rather you did it over anyone else."

"Well I wouldn't."

She kneels down to pick up the shards of splintered ceramic, facing her back towards him and growling at the floor. Pulling a face, Arsenal stands up to watch her over the back of the couch.

"I had no idea you cared so much, Olympia."

She only allows the clinks of the broken mug to sound out from her end for a while. They tink and clink; little fairy wind-chimes being soiled and destroyed by the surface of a place like this. Any magic the small noises could have held are smothered instantly by the sickness found in this place.

After picking up the final pieces, Cassie continues to sit there, refusing to look at Arsenal.

When she finally speaks her voice is quiet, but still hard enough to carry its bite. ""Of course I care," she says, "I'm not mad like you."

Arsenal's smirk is sanded down into a soft up-tilt of his lips. "Please," he clears his throat and jumps over the couch to walk towards her. "If any of us had even a shred of sanity, we wouldn't be going along with this job."

He passes Olympia to step behind the counter and pull out a trash can. He sets it down next to her, and kneels himself to help clean up the mess. "Besides," he mutters, grabbing the flakes of ceramic out from Cassie's hands, "Just because my head's not all right, doesn't mean I don't care."

The pieces of mug fall into the bin with a clatter, and Olympia forces her legs to move. She stands up and turns away from Roy, pulling her lasso out from her belt and cradling it in her hands. Maybe now's a good time to call him on. Maybe she can rid herself of one obstacle, rid herself of a possible future problem. There'd be no guilt in it. After all, who can control a god of war?

"Olympia. Arsenal." Cassie drops her hands, and both heads in the room turn to look at Drake, standing by the door of their quarters. "Meeting with The Queen. Move."

"A meeting?" Arsenal drops the bin he was carrying with a loud clatter. "What the hell? We had a briefing with her this morning."

Drake looks worn, staring emotionless at their teammate. "Newcomer. We're meeting him."

"Who is it? Why the hell do we need a new member anyway? What makes this guy special?"

"I don't ask questions," Drake says. "Neither should you. Move." He brings a hand up to run through his hair and sighs, his exhale making a rebel strand dance in front of his eyes.

It's that action that piques Cassie's ever-so-troublesome curiosity.

"What's wrong with you?" she asks. "You look like you've had your feathers ruffled."

"Nothing. I'm fine." Drake darts his glance between Olympia and Arsenal. "Just hurry up. You know she hates tardiness."

He walks out through the door, and Arsenal sends a shrug in Cassie's direction before following close behind. Cassie looks down once again at her lasso, and, once she is sure the room is abandoned, summons him.

"This better be good, child."

Olympia ignores his tone; ignores his words and the stink in his breath. "First Changeling during the mission, now Drake has been thrown out of his normal self. Tell me." She stares at the figure of Ares, hard. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

The God of War exhales, a shuddering noise of gunshots and grenades. "Why would I want to do anything to these toys you call teammates?"

"Well, if it hasn't been you, what is it?"

"You should trying turning your suspicion to the mortal world, girl. Something is changing here. Something that could lead to be a detriment to our plans."

Cassie turns her gaze towards the door. She should get going. "Sorry Ares, but your plans aren't really a priority of mine at the moment."

Ares hisses. It sounds of children screaming. "You'd be wise to watch your tongue girl. I gave you your power. You work for me."

Cassie snorts, and twirls the lasso around her arm. "You're forgetting one thing, Oh Mighty Warlord." Her eyes shoot back to meet the dark pits of his, and a savage grin, the grin of a winning general, forms across her face. "I'm the one with the lasso, remember?" Another twirl. "That means I'm the one in control here." Another. "You have to submit to me."

She twirls the golden rope once more before fitting it back onto her waist. "Begone now, minion," she says. "I'll call you back when it's time for you to fufill my plans."