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She would miss the ring.

She still had it, of course. It was a tangible object, an heirloom, a tie to her Wonder and the past she'd turned her back on. But while she still had the object, its magical powers as a signet had gone the way of her carved wand. It was just... old gold. She wondered if it would vanish the moment she let herself return to her nameless civilian form, never to return, but there was no way to know. She was the first of her kind, as far as she knew; the first of the Knights who realized they were on the wrong side. (But she wouldn't be the last. She'd help them, all of them. It wouldn't be hard, once they were made to see, as she had.)

Instead of the ring, she now had a chunk of violet crystal, one that carried real time communication like a phone--she remembered enough of the world outside to know phones, she knew she could drive a car if she had a license, she knew how to find a house and apply for work, she just--and one that had told her where to find the Negaverse agent who would create her new identity. Osumilite--a familiar name, one linked to embarrassment. She remembered him. It felt... weird, to be on his side. (Did he remember her? He'd wanted to kill her. Would he still?)

So she climbed the stairs to the apartment the voice on the crystal had given her, and after only a moment's hesitation, knocked. It occurred to her to call through the door, so he would know who it was (the new recruit, the girl who had slammed a ******** apple into his face once) but she didn't know his civilian name, and it wouldn't be proper to shout his Negaverse alias.

Best to be safe, rather than sorry. She waited.

The man who answered the door knew her name, but there was no powered aura to sense but her own--therefore, perhaps he was the civilian identity of the Captain she had been called to meet. (She used 'perhaps' like she wasn't sure, except she totally was--it wouldn't make sense for a Negaverser to share the facts of their existence with anyone else for any reason. It'd be downright dangerous, wouldn't it?)

She stepped through the door, and after a moment's hesitation, powered down at his suggestion. Avalon had been avoiding it, simply because she knew who she was when she was Captain Avalon, once a Squire of Earth--but as a civilian, as someone powerless, she had no idea who she was or what she did beyond the very vaguest of concepts. "Yes," she said, staying put except to follow the civilian form of Captain Osumilite where-ever he went. "I, um. Apologize? For what I did when I last saw you. But you were trying to kill me." As if that were an excuse. She tugged on the tie she wore (the one that she didn't remember putting on, or cleaning, or even whether it was a gift or something she'd purchased for herself) and tried to return the smile.

It didn't go well, and she returned to her Negaverse identity. It was simply more comfortable that way, for her. "I'm sorry," she said. "If you're concerned about someone finding you, I can… I can stay powered down, but I don't like to, right now." She didn't know her own ******** name.

She accepted the glass and… held it, because while she was perfectly sure that she was old enough to drink, she wasn't sure it was a good idea. "I don't know," she said. Did she feel like an idiot? Oh, indubitably. It was one thing, she supposed, to feel more comfortable in her Negaverse form. But this man (whose name she really ought to ask for, but she was concerned he'd be offended if she admitted she didn't know) seemed… really cultured, and she didn't want to be disappointing. Not when she had the whole problem of her original introduction to him to clear up.

So she explained, talking quickly: "I don't remember anything but being Avalon, and I suppose I know the names of senshi and knights but Shalott and Cyllene and Babylon aren't exactly names you can use in daily life, are they?" Themis, Zinkenite, Valhalla, Merope, Sessrumnir--no, no, none of those would do.

"I remember I graduated college," she said. "I remember how everything works, if you put me in a car I could drive it, I can navigate a subway, I know how to pay bills and open a bank account and I can cook, I just… don't… remember me."

She sat when he did, followed his lead like she was paid to do it. "I was a barista, I think," she said, which was another thing to feel ashamed about, for some reason. "For… a long time?" She couldn't speak in specifics, she only knew that it was a really solid job she'd held on to for a while. She also knew it wasn't what she wanted to do for the rest of her life--but for a little while, it'd be okay, probably.

Avalon wished she remembered something more respectable than that. "I'm good with computers, I know a lot about video games and navigating a library and I know I built a computer." Maybe she was good with computers. The construction was true, though she couldn't say how she knew. Someone she couldn't remember had bought her parts and she'd made it. She knew how to take PCs apart, too, she thought. Either way, she could figure it out if she had to. She'd just rather do that than work as a barista any more. "I could pick up just about anything, given time," she told him. "I'm… adaptable." And she'd finished college. That seemed really ******** important to her.

She kept coming back to the name problem. Names… Might as well start from books, right? …But nothing from Harry Potter. The only names she'd liked tended to be sort of… senshi-ish. Draco was a constellation, after all. So… not that. "What else do you need to know?"

Avalon's eyes narrowed at the suggestion that she work as a prostitute. "I'd rather die than be a prostitute," she said darkly, and she decided beyond that there was no need to elaborate. It seemed clear enough, once she'd said it out loud.

Then she took the time he suggested to think about it. "I wrote papers," she said. Her head hurt from so many attempts to remember things that didn't want to be remembered--sort of like banging her head against an immovable wall. She had to keep doing it, though; she did not want to be a barista or a prostitute. "I got scholarships for them, I don't know if that counts--I set type for a printmaker who worked with an old letterpress, I could fix the damn thing better than anyone. I got along well with most people I knew, like my teachers, I think?" She scrubbed her gloved hands over her face, trying not to feel too distressed, but unsure how well she was doing at that. "I'm sorry, I really don't remember that much more."

Avalon brightened, marginally, at the suggestion. "But I'm good at that," she said, "Research and fact-checking. I know I was." It was part of writing papers, wasn't it? And anything was better than being a barista or a prostitute.

"I'm staying with General-King Howlite," she said, at his question. "She's very kind." And Avalon was ninety-nine point nine percent sure that Kess knew who she had been, making her an ideal candidate as far as someone to grill about skills once possessed by her own civilian form.

As far as names… "I was sort of thinking Ivanna?" Long i, long a. "It sounds nice. Ivanna Morgenstern? Does that sound fake?"

Oh thank goodness he'd finally said it, she thought. That made that concern null and void. She could concentrate on something else: Ivanna, Ivanna Morgenstern--my name is Ivanna Morgenstern-- No, that sounded prissy. Vanya was a good nickname for Ivanna, wasn't it? Technically a boy's name, she guessed, but it sounded nice. When compared to a name like Tag Swagger, Vanya Morgenstern sounded… pretty legitimate, actually.

And it wasn't like she had another name.

"Seven o'clock," she repeated, obediently. "On Monday morning. I'll know more about me then, sir. I promise."