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It had really been one of far too many tiring days for Jada lately. Or Scylla. Whoever it was that she was, given the time of night. She'd acquired a stalker under her mortal persona, Virgo had gotten wounded, Scylla had fought an ice cream machine (getting shards of glass in her BUTT) and a bunch of garden gnomes and a gargoyle. The worst of all of this was that she'd been patrolling only a few weeks. Was this how the Negaverse planned to win? Not that she was really going to sit around and mock the Negaverse for sucking. Obviously they'd proven themselves a viable threat when they'd hospitalized Virgo. Only Scylla had better things to do this evening .

Tonight her goal was to try and hunt down her stalker. How? Honestly, she didn't have a clue where to start. She'd started the night at the shopping mall, following the roofs in the pattern that she'd walked that day. How could she have missed him for so long? Where could he have hidden from her? And why had he finally let her see him? (Unfortunately she was confident that he'd let himself be seen, not been genuinely spotted.) Had she dropped something? Maybe he'd seen her ID? She was just as confident that the giggling man who she had run into outside of Crystal was her stalker. And the man who had slashed up her clothing.

She caught sight of herself in a glassy window and scowled, reaching up to stroke her hand down the sickly bruise on the side of her face. It didn't look as much like a wing-print anymore (solving those awkward questions) and she was still using the story of having fallen down the stairs as a human. She paused, pressed slender fingers into her ribcage, pressing out of habit. Scylla winced as she realized that yes, she still hurt, and no, the painkillers wouldn't work if something hit her in the ribs.

Behind her, she caught a flash of a figure in the window, and whirled to see what was there. No one. But she would have sworn... no, she must just be daydreaming it because of what she was doing. Maybe she shouldn't have come here by herself. She shoved her hand into a wall, cursing, pacing along towards someplace she wouldn't feel so exposed. Someplace she wouldn't feel naked.

In too many windows she thought she could see something. Too many times she turned to see nothing there. Her paranoia was nauseating. Why had she come out by herself tonight?

She passed a homeless person, walking the street with a shopping cart. A few cats, mewing and trying to twirl around her ankles. A hooker, with a short skirt that gleamed red in the darkness, and a mouth full of nicotine gum. Scylla couldn't tell if she was wearing a shirt or not. She skirted the other female nervously, ducking her head to stare at the ground.

But something about the young woman made her pause. Slipping into the trees, she found one that would give her a good view, and sat down to observe. Was it voyeurism? Did this make her a pervert, or just an observer?

Scylla had been about to leave, to drop out of the trees, when she'd seen a familiar figure approaching. Was that... Castor? She remained in the tree, ignoring the feeling of hot breath on her neck, the sensation of pine-needle hands creeping down her spine and brushing over her curls. What was he talking to the hooker about?

On the other hand, did she really want to know? It wasn't any of her business if Sailor Castor slept with... ladies... of the evening.

Not until his hand wrapped around the woman's neck, shoving her against the wall. Hey! She opened her mouth, about to say anything, about to leap out of the tree and go make a stink, when she felt the branch tangle in her hair, yanking her back, keeping her in the tree.

When the woman spat in his face, frankly, Scylla was impressed. Did he have a reason to be treating the woman like that? She slapped him when he let her go; Castor's hand slapped back and Scylla hissed in outrage, tugging forcibly at the branch getting stuck in the delicate trimming of her skirt. The whore ran away, Scylla didn't blame her. With a final tug, Scylla was free of the pine needles (she really needed to stop getting in trees) and swung her legs over the branch, preparing to hop down and give that... man a what-for.

He was already looking toward the trees. She stiffened, shifting her hands to drop down, when a piece of bark and pine needle went straight into the wound on her hand where shards of glass had pierced only the night before. The skin was still, tender, and sensitive, and for the second time Sailor Scylla introduced herself to Castor by falling out of a tree with a scream.

She landed against a masculine chest, with a thumping noise. How Castor had gotten over to her quick enough to catch her, she had no clue. "My name isn't tentacles." she sounded rather cross, actually. "You got it right the second time. Put me down, Captain Obvious, before I keep bleeding on you."

Scylla clenched her bleeding hand closed, the other patting his arm commandingly. Down. Down boy. "And I wasn't patrolling, I was looking for something." There was a distinct difference in Scylla's mind, ignoring the whole 'alone' aspect.

She flushed, embarrassed that the high horse she'd been planning on lecturing Castor from had already fled her mind. You couldn't properly chastise someone who had kept you from hitting the ground and crunching a leg.

Like a pro.

"Why were you beating up on women?" she reached up as if to pinch his cheek, not hard, but more like an angry mother chastising a child. "You know that is nowhere near as gentlemanly as saving them from breaking a leg. Which I should probably thank you for."

Scylla smiled at him weakly when he set her down on the ground, chilled by the look that Castor's had in his eyes. There was more ice about him than just his power, it seemed. "I suppose I can change my terminology from women to ladies." she said finally. It was the closest she would give the other senshi to an apology.

"As for Astrea..." Scylla shuddered. Not yet the recipient of a bitching, she shrugged. "I don't fight alone. All of these guys came from working as a team. Which is both good and bad." She pulled off the glove on the bloodied hand, giving Castor a clear view of the cuts and bruises on the skin. If he'd taken a good look at her face yet, he hadn't given any indication or comment.

"And no one else ever sees me fall out of trees." she looked far too defensive. "I'm putting money on you being a jinx." she glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye before looking back down at the bleeding wound. It would close back up quickly enough. "And I'd rather thank you now. Thank you." There we go. All done, quickly and painlessly.

Her head shot up at his comment about hunting a stalker, and she suddenly got an inkling of who it was that she'd seen Sailor Castor turn into that night in the hotel room. And why a certain someone looked so familiar. Something lurked in the back of her eyes, a wicked humor. "Odd, I was looking for a stalker too." she checked her nails. "He's all over the news. There was even vandalism at Crystal."

"I can't see a doctor." she gave a dry laugh. "I saw one a few days ago and told I fell down the stairs. If I showed her the cuts, she'd tell my family." Her hand felt small in his, but it didn't make her feel particularly unsafe. His hand was warmer than her own. Then again, the hand he was gripping was suffering a loss of blood in the fingers.

"The cut was fine until your friendly neighborhood-" Spiderman? "Retarded feline decided to get in a tree." She watched him as he moved around her in a circle. "I've been getting in a lot of them. Garden gnomes, Ice Cream Machines, a few other nasty fellows. I've been mostly spending my time in the hospital." she shrugged. "A friend of mine is in there." She was pretty sure the word was getting around, but didn't much want to namedrop Virgo and out her.

"As for boyfriends, I'm afraid I can't say I have an abusive one. Or any of one." it was nonchalant. "You know her?" she said finally. "She must be terrified." she shook her dark curls. Her sense of humor needed improvement. "Have you talked to her lately?"

She couldn't exactly say, She probably lost your phone number.

"I'm not a mess." she looked insecure, glancing down at herself. "I look fine. Don't I?" Obviously not, Jada, or he would not have referred to you as a mess. "Well, fine." she took a few steps away. "If you've got some guys you can point me out to, I'd appreciate it. I could use a doctor who understands why the Tylenol just isn't cutting it."

She glanced at the trees at a rustling noise, relaxing when it was just a cat, apparently determined to show her how to properly get out of a tree. "Virgo." she said finally. "Hematite and Nealite wandered across us, and even though there were three senshi... well, leave it at she should be out soon."

It was weird, hearing him talk about her. She frowned, trying to place which one of them he'd been. She knew it was one of them... and then decided she didn't care. "If I'm thinking of the girl you're talking about, he trashed her room." Jada reached out to take Castor's hand, pulling him along after her. "She's probably really distracted."

She followed him, mostly silent, through parts of the neighborhood she wouldn't go to in broad daylight.

"Yeah. Virgo was protecting Merope. Her stupid power thing. And she thought she was gonna try and protect me too, somehow." her voice was thick, bitter. "God, I thought she was gonna die." Her breath caught. "I really thought she was going to die, Castor." She swallowed. "But she'll be okay. She's supposed to get out of the hospital this week." She had visited Virgo almost every night, peeking in her window or talking to her or something, until she felt like her own stalker might. Only with a less violent aim.

She reached out for his arm, watching people skitter into darkness. She wasn't even in the mood to tease him about why they were afraid now, thinking about the small blood-covered lump adrenaline had allowed her to drag into the ER. She tried anyway, muttering, "You must have a rep around here." Tried not to think about Elke, so small and hooked up to so many machines that first night.

"Why can't you guys call her?" She'd almost said Call me. She paused, thinking she saw someone curled around a trashcan in one of the alleyways. "Do people live here?" she said it in a stunned tone, shocked that there were so many people. "God, this is..."

We can't act like prey. Castor's words made something rustle in the back of her mind, a whisper of movement in the darkness.

We aren't prey.

"Are you kidding me?" She'd known about prostitution, she wasn't that sheltered, but her thoughts of prostitution wasn't like this. It was like the women she knew. It was more like... courtesans. A woman catering to the powerful and the wealthy, not flouncing around in a short skirt and doing things to a man in the back alley. A woman who had a relationship with her client made of a little more than sex. "That's..." disgusting. Who knew how many men these women saw every night. This was not high end prostitution.

This was culture shock.

She could feel eyes on her back, and probably her front, as she followed Castor. The place he took her to did not feel like a hospital. It did not look like a hospital. The woman who opened the door did not look like a nurse.

Scylla did not like the way the woman looked her up and down and instinctively straightened her back and shoulders. The soiled dove could have been beautiful, under the makeup and the smeared lipstick. Jada couldn't tell. That made it all the more tragic.

"Castor is a good man." Scylla said finally, before the woman walked away. She took a step inside hesitantly, nose curling at the unusual smells. "And I'm afraid I'd have to decline those opportunities." she murmured so only Castor could hear. "Possibly violently."

She looked out of place. Her back had gone ramrod straight, her hands clenched politely in front of her. Beggars can't be choosers. "It's certainly different than I was expecting." she said finally.