Her situation had drastically changed once again and Ophelia was relearning how to walk for what seemed to be the thousandth time this year. She walked down these streets countless times, but she had done so as so many different people - Emilie. Ophelia. Ophie. Mjolnir. Every time it felt different and every time the streets in which she grew up felt more and more alien.

Amber eyes looked down at her shoes as they made contact with the curb; the shoes that Castor had brought to her that night on the rooftops.

The day was chilly; not unusual for this time of year, but Ophie had long since stopped feeling the cold, it had been a long time since she stopped feeling a lot of things. She almost felt like a ghost with a doll for a vessel, this body was broken and battered, damaged and abused - and whats worse she had done it all to herself. Her knuckles were scared and black; but she did not feel the sting like she used to when clenching her fists, her ribs were bruised but she did not feel the strain as she breathed. In a way, she no longer felt like she was anchored to the world at all, she more so felt like she was living a daydream; floating through reality like a spectre.

Was she human anymore? She was not too sure. Castor seemed to think so, but he did not know her dirty little secret. What even made someone human anyway?

She had her arms stretched out for balance, her baggy t-shirt revealing pale porcelain skin scratched and broken, placing one foot in front of the other as she walked along the edge of the sidewalk like a child. Nobody seemed to be around, which was understandable since a lot of people were either at work or at school. Ophie on the other hand just wandered the streets on her own, she did not like staying at the safe house during the day and prefered the solitude she found came with the outdoors. Afterall she did not want to grow attached to her roommates and avoided spending any more time with them than 100% essential.

She was just not ready to make friends yet, she was far too weak to start feeling those kind of feelings, even her friendship with Castor at times scared her and made her feel uncomfortable.

But she would not run away again, it would make it all meaningless if she did.

She pouted slightly, her hand brushing over the remainder of her black eye before running it through her thick dark hair. She had not powered up in weeks, and her body was almost healed, but her spirit was still sketchy. What would Mjolnir do now? Maybe she could just ignore that side of her? No. She knew that was not possible.

She was a soldier, and when she had nothing else her need for battle had almost single handedly kept her going. She knew she was not strong enough to turn her back on that. Mjolnir was her strength, or so it seemed. She was so caught up in the maze of her own mind she did not notice the cat approach her, it ran straight under where her foot was going to land, and the shock made her jump back.

Before ungracefully falling from the curb and landing on her a**.