Force Of Nature
She'd finally done it. She'd finally pressed the wrong button just a bit too hard, sparking Helga's rage beyond its normal limits.
She'd made the mistake of doing so in an otherwise empty hall. Leaving just the two of them, and no witnesses.
Despite being virtually the same size as Helga, if not slightly taller, she now found herself pressed against a row of lockers, her feet dangling helplessly off the ground, the blond girl's glaring eyes boring holes through her skull.
There were no threats. No insults or remarks of any kind. Simply cold, focused rage, which seemed to bear down with greater force than any blow.
For perhaps the first time ever, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd was truly terrified of Helga G. Pataki.
She could feel herself beginning to sweat and could barely breath under the weight of her glare alone. It was only a well developed sense of self preservation which allowed her to recover enough to speak.
"Listen, Helga..." She began nervously. "Can't we discuss this? You know... Like the calm, civilized people we are?"
No response was given.
"Look! I'm sorry! Okay? I was way out of line! I shouldn't have said anything!" She continued more desperately.
Helga simply continued to glare, her eyes speaking of imminent doom.
The dark haired girl clenched her eyes shut, preparing for the worst. But suddenly felt herself falling, landing in a graceless heap on the floor.
Upon more or less regaining her senses, she raised her eyes, watching as Helga turned and began making her way down the hall, her left hand fingering some manner of object hidden beneath her shirt.
She got the feeling that it was only because of said object she had escaped the encounter virtually unharmed, but knew better than to go asking about it.
Her eyes remained on Helga as she got to her feet, as if looking away would somehow draw a second attack. The blond girl at first showed no signs of turning back, but paused at the feeling of being watched, shooting Rhonda a sideways glare and startling her a bit.
She didn't like the fearful sound which escaped her lips upon landing in Helga's sights. Helga seemed to be even less impressed with it.
"Relax princess." She groused in an almost board manner. "Don't wet yourself." She scoffed as she turned away.
Rhonda felt herself growing agitated, but said nothing in response.
She didn't imagine that a second confrontation would end quite so mildly as the first. And though she was loathed to admit it to even herself, she'd lost a degree of her boldness when it came to Helga, and wasn't getting it back in the foreseeable future.
She resented being made to tiptoe around Helga. But the blond girl's patience with her had thinned out considerably. So whether she liked it or not, she would have to be a great deal more careful with her words from now on.
End
(A.N) So, originally, the force of nature was supposed to be Helga in general. The way she carries herself, her more than formidable nature. Her moments of raw emotion. The intensity with which she is capable of experiencing and expressing those emotions. But then, I got to thinking, perhaps it's actually the strongest of those emotions. That is to say, her love for Arnold. For even at her most furious, her actions were tempered by those affections. Or something like that...
Anyway, it's open to interpretation and all that.
On a separate note, has anyone noticed that Helga and Rhonda seem to take turns being slightly or not so slightly taller than the other.
I suppose you could say that it's simply because Helga tends to slouch while Rhonda does not. Or because they're kids and happen to be growing at different rates. But somehow, I think it's just a minor oversight in the way they are drawn.