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The weatherman had been unkind. The winter had been brutal, not 'a bit frosty'. Castor, for all his time spent in the cold of his world still wasnt fond of the cold, and he could only feel a bit sad for some of the lesser clothed senshi running about. Ah, the glory of pants and not shorts- even if he'd been dashing in his shorts in those Hillworth days.

Tugging as his shirt and bow, he darted across the pavement towards the park, doing his best to avoid most civilians. No need to alarm or upset them if he could help it. The crunch of ice told him the night was only going to get worse, and if he wanted to relax in warmth, he ought to wrap up his night's patrol's quickly. No sense staying out longer than needed.

Walking the usual route he paused as he noticed a figure up ahead, dressed.. damn. He knew the type, no cash, trying to manage it when the sheltered closed up and had no spare beds.

"Hey." He called out gently. Some homeless had a thing against senshi, not that he could blame them. "..You got a place to stay dude?"

It was a woman and immedietly his heart jumped to his throat while dread grew to a rock in his gut. Women on the streets- prey for more than youma.

Humans, 'men', were called predators for a reason. He held up his hands and nodded, not stepping closer. "Alright. Just tell me how far to stay and that's where I'll stay. But.. no. Sort of. I am Prince Castor. More than a sailor guardian, though I hold that title as well." He stayed where he was.

"I saw you in the cold- You know there are a few shelters not to far from here right? Did they fill up or..." He took a breath. "Is someone there that.. hurt you?" It wouldn't have been the first time he'd heard of such a thing.

"The cold is supposed to get worse and you don't look like.. well to be honest you don't look like you're doing too well. I'm Castor by the way. Most know me as Prince Castor of Hail."

Experience had him knowing that you never approached a woman alone unless she let you. Doubly so if she might have been a victim. Castor had played hero in the past, and he'd saved a great many women, but they each had their own fears. Castor would not give them a reason to fear him if he could help it.

"Alas, my kingdom is dead. So I'd have much a place to go back to as it were." He didn't step closer, just stayed afar, allowing her her space. She was hurt. That much was certain, it was just a matter of how and finding out a way to help her. Or at least get her off the streets. That would be a good start.

At her invite he got closer, taking a second to sit beside her and not touch. Always wait for the victim to approach, for them to initiate and have control of the situation. That was what he'd been taught, that was what he knew. "Like frogs?" He asked, curious. Girls feared frogs a lot. "Or spiders? Personally I'm afraid of beetles, but, bad experiences." He smiled at her. "Ophie.. Short for Ophelia? It's a pretty name. Much better than Castor. "

He turned to face the fire. "Being a royal means more than ruling. Power comes with the price of obligation and duty. Part of that is making sure people are protected, safe. While this is not my kingdom, it's a duty to aid those who need it." He asked without reservation. "Do you need aid?"

He laughed, the sound from deep in his chest and pouring out in a pure joyous sound. Talking on fears, normal things, it helped make the situation a little less tense, a little more human, relaxing. "Beetle in my kingdom are very..aggressive shall we say." Never mind them being the size of a small car and spitting acid. "I had to fight them to make places safe. Still, do, but, its a bit easier now, even if it's just me." Hands twisted on themselves, fidgeting in unease. "One day I hope to see my kingdom alive again- though, it will be a while."

Another lifetime, if anything.

"......." Hands stopped their movements briefly as he crossed his legs and leaned back, only resuming when he felt comfortable again. "Castor is the mortal son of a king, his brother is the son of a god, yet they are twins, and their compassion for each other had them cast into the stars when they died." He knew the myth, though the myth had very few ties to the reality. "Yet my name shouldn't be from someelse's story- I want to make my own legacy. We are defined by more than our names and ranks." He looked at her.

"A name that was born from a gift is a name worth making into something treasured. The story of a name shouldn't be what defines you or gives it meaning, it should be the one who holds the name to give it it's purpose and pride."

She had went to the fire, he remained seated.

"I offer aid because if I don't others will. Because people offer aid with a price, or with chains. I lived that existence once, and know the anguish of such a life." His wings moved, the feathers expanding as he caught his own warmth to wrap around himself.
"I don't know you, I don't have any reason to help you, and by far, I do not pity you. Pity is a sign of weakness. It does neither the believer nor it's target any justice." His tone was even, yet the implication that her words had struck a chord were there.
"I offer help because it is the right thing to do. Because watching another suffer when it's within my power to aid them is cruel were I to take inaction. If I have a want of you, it is to see you safe and alive. Right now, I see a woman in danger of the cold and her own past, trying to fight the idea that she has worth and merit in this world."

Getting up he stood beside her and the fire.
"Some one gave you a gift, a gift you carry with you even know as you doubt your worth. If you really were as undeserving of any kindness-" He reached out, offering her his hand. "then why would you still want to be called Ofelia? What I want is to see you alive and safe, if that is too high a price, then you are free to send me on my way."

She was small to him in that moment, frail and lost in a sea of sadness- depression likely- alone in one's own heart was a terrible place to be. He had fought with himself over it once, and he'd vowed to never go back to that, to never become that shell of himself again, even if in his heart only a shell of his hopes and dreams remained intact.

"Home is nice. It's were you don't feel afraid." A self admission- he hated earth because he feared it in such small ways. It wasn't his- his was Castor, his was a world that once had people who wept in joy at duels, a forest that was filled with animals and life that was peaceful even as it's people were not. Home was a memory, and it was still that memory that made him feel safe, even as his world had crumbled away bit by bit with time. Home was where he wouldn't lose the ones he loved, where he wasn't forced to make choice that hurt those he loved. Home was not the world where his brother would suffer a lifetime for simply having been born second. Home wasn't a world that had welcomed it's own downfall.

"Prince is not a title one is given- it is a title earned. Blood, sweat, tears as the saying goes. I would not be a prince had I not been willing to sacrifice all I was and all I am for the sake of another. Anything less and I would have been unworthy of my powers, and the trust that name name and rank give me." A shake of his head, he knew that it sounded so fanciful, so trite. "I am not here for myself. I am here for others. That is my purpose."

She was in pain, weeping silent tears and wanting- He knew that he could help her, but she'd never accept his help. You cannot save those who didn't want to be saved. Not from Chaos, and not from themselves. Not from their demons and pain. Some battles couldn't be one by force alone.

His hand cast away he felt his own heart clench in pain. He wanted to help, to save her, even if in some small way. Castor was a man who thrived in choice, in passion, in throwing himself into what he believed in with abandon. He was cruel then to her- cruel in that he didn't understand her pain nor it's depth, and could only offer so much. Somethings no amount of power could aid him with.

"I don't want you to believe in me. I want you to believe in yourself. If I give you hope then I would want it to be a strength. If I make you think I am a lie and that my words be a lie to comfort you then let them be a lie, but know Ofelia, I would never want you to feel pain because of me. No matter how you would see me, I truly, do not want to be a source of your pain. I swear I speak only what I know to be truths, but if my words hurt you then I will hold them back. I have lost hope far too many times to see it fade in others and leave them empty. I do not want to see the shell of my heart be reflected in the eyes of those I swore to protect."

If they had more time, he would tell her of his hopes and dream- of a shattered love and a broken future.

"Your soul is no blacker than mine. Our souls can become corrupted, but until we twist in upon ourselves we are not monsters. We are human, we are alive and full of an unlimited potential. Mistakes and misplaced faiths do not make us unworthy of anything." He stared at her, knowing only what he had experienced, what he had done and was bound to do.

He was a royal. He would be executioner's axe and the hand that would stay the blade. He walked the line of savior and redeemer, the line of damnation and condemnation. As her arms wrapped around him, he wrapped his arms around her in kind, soft wings brushing around her, holding in the warmth, softly pressing her to him. She needed to be held he thought, to be reminded that even such a simple thing as touch was something she was worthy of having. A hand stroked her head, brushing hair with his fingers, soothing as he could.

"We are the only ones who can determine our fates. Only we can deem ourselves unworthy of salvation. Redemption is a choice, regret is a knowledge, rebirth is a gift. Each one is something we must allow and give to ourselves Ofelia. I will do everything in my power to give you such choices, to give you each opportunity. I would be your pillar, but you should not doubt yourself- you are worth saving. You always are."

He smiled and ran his hand down so he could see her face. "And I would think my first action should be to find you a warm bed and a decent hot meal." He hoped she'd be willing to take up his offer. To accept help, and if a little bit, accept herself as someone worthy of being saved.

He smiled, and for once, it was an honest and open smile, filled with warmth of hope and a passing delight. She would accept help, and that would be the most important first step. Whatever wounds she had would take time to heal, and he couldn't hope to heal them all- but maybe a few he might stem the bleeding as it were.

"That's good to hear. I know a place not too far, and it's very discrete. The lady who owns it makes sure everyone gets a hot meal, a soft bed, and a warm bath. She'll help you find work too if you like." It was jumping the gun just slightly.
"But for now a bed and a meal will be best I think. I can drop by with some things for you tomorrow and check in with you. I am not the type of prince to simply pick a girl up then drop her off you know. I have a reputation to uphold. And I'm hoping that maybe I'll see a real smile from you once you're not all bundled up shivering. Speaking of-" He reached his hand out again.

"Would you like to try flying?"

His laughter was full and bright, it was warm and joyous even as the cold wind would chill his bones. His smile was open and honest, and his eyes were alive at the sight of her. "I love it. It's not flying-flying. But it's amazing. You feel the wind carry you, you see the world in a whole new way, I just-" His wings opened completely to their full span and he gave a little gust, sending a small chill down his spine.

"You know you're alive when you fly. Knowing that you're the one who keeps you up, that you're free. It's-" He shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. "I wish I could take everyone with me just once, so they'd know what it was like. And of course." His wings began to stretch, muscles flexing and shoulders rolled back as he knew he'd need a fair bit of strength for take off. It had been a while.

Her hand in his, Castor was a bit cruel. Pulling Ofelia tight to his body, his other arm went down, lifting her up so he was full on carrying her. And as soon as he'd done so- he was running, wings out. The lack of trees down the walkway was a blessing as after a few yards, he had what he needed.
A large gust of wind, a tilt of his wings, a jump and some serious flapping- air born. It was only about one story but once he reached the buildings he'd have a better way to gain altitude. "Hang on alright. I've got to get up the buildings to give us a proper lift. Wind is too weak this close to the ground."

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and could feel Ofie in his arms, warm- it was nice. For a while anyway, he could feel like a Prince again.