Her fingers twitched as she began to come around, heavy eyelids fluttering open to reveal pale eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. It took the brunette a good few minutes to push herself off the ground, glass shattering on the concrete as it fell from her body. There was blood, but not a lot, minor scratches from the mirror that had broken behind her. She pushed herself up to kneel down, examining where the portal used to be. She had been rejected from Mirrorspace and spat back out into Destiny City; which could only mean she had completed her quest. Alas, in that moment she could not recall any of it.

All she knew was that she was incredibly thirsty and her stomach was painful from hunger. The senshi pushed herself to her feet, her legs shaking like a newborn deer. One foot in front of the other, she had no idea where she was. She was outside, in a forest? The DMC often placed mirrors in remote locations to make quick escapes, so she tried not to question it too much. A hand on her forehead, she was coming to terms with just how foggy her mind was.

Something was very wrong.

She must have wandered for a good hour before she finally came across a place that seemed familiar, with high walls and sturdy gates. “Sylvi…” The Senshi muttered to herself, jumping over the wall with ease, though stumbling slightly on her landing. She was sure her daughter was here, she remembered playing with her, making flower crowns. She hoped she had been okay with her absence, but she was home now and everything was going to be okay.

But there was no sign of her brown haired girl anywhere, and the realisation made her feel sick to her stomach. She had left her right here, she was sure she had. So, why was she blonde in her mind's eye? Sylvi was not blonde at all. She shook her head, feeling tears threaten her eyes due to the disconnect of it all. Just across the yard was a fountain, and Mjolnir almost collapsed at the foot of it. Her hand bringing the water to her lips in a hurry as she coughed.

Her fuku began to flicker, revealing sections of her civilian clothing. With her power failing her, flickering like a bulb about to burst, she was beginning to realise just how wrong things were.

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She was back in from her Monday patrol, when she felt the flicker of an aura. Unfamiliar, but not corrupted. Uncomfortable in the fact there should be no such aura near her home at this time, more than in the fact there was one at all. No one powered should have come to the mansion in the evening. Her staff wasn’t known to be powered, her wards were asleep, the seal wasn’t around… and yet, there was a figure in her fountain, in front of the house- where anyone who happened to be looking out a window could see. Not that there were many people on night staff. Scylla needed it to be that way.

It was Jada who made her way down the front steps in the darkness, her front door drawn carefully shut. As she moved doen the stairs, bright violet eyes flickered over the evening lights that lit the half-mile driveway, fading into the dark with the fairy-lit trees lining the manicured driveway. The night was sweltering heat, strangely humid, and the civilian was dressed appropriately. Perhaps not for danger, but… the aura had not been that of a youma, not that of a corrupt. Just unfamiliar, and very unexpected. Not bad. More a cause for concern that someone would have come here this late.

“Hello?” she called out to the figure as she drew closer, wanting to give whoever it was some heads up. “It’s Jada. Is everything alright?” In the darkness, she could hardly see; the figure looked long but female- there weren’t many people who knew she was Scylla at all, and the list of people who might know they could come to her for help did not include many members that long of body. So an accident, then? Trying to hide and coming across the property on accident?

She moved closer, watching the form seem to flicker, though it was unclear. They were powering down, and not with the usual smoothness of those she had seen. Picking up the pace, she moved across the smooth driveway, kicking off her heels and dropping to bare feet. “Hey. You alright?” Clearly the other person wasn’t, but at least speaking she was making her presence known so as not to startle.

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Mjolnir inhaled sharply as a wave of pain ran through her chest. She heard a voice in the distance, but it sounded distraught, like it was coming up from beneath the sea. She pushed back from the water, draping her body over the ledge her her head resting in her arms for support. It was pouncing, almost enough to make her eyes water. Her iris were gold, but flashed silver as she blinked, until they failed to return to their ‘usual’ colour altogether. In an instance she was powered down, her signature dispersed and vanished. The woman who remained behind was wearing a man's shirt and a pair of pajama shorts and it was obvious neither of them belonged to her. Her feet bare against the ground.

Shallow cuts ran up her body, and wherever visible skin could be seen, a break could also be found bleeding lightly. Falling through the mirror had done to her body what it had done to her mind; shattered it completely.

Then the woman who was running down the street was there with her, and her eyebrows knitted to take in her sight. She was a dangerously beautiful woman, with a face that reminded her so much of a distant memory. She smiled, and shook her head, it was almost like she was laughing with the irony of it all. ”I am looking for my daughter, have you seen her? She is always wandering off and getting into trouble.” Her voice was strained, like she was gasping through a fever dream. “We said we would meet on Earth. I think I am late.” One thousand years, a few days, the time between meant very little to the woman right now. There was a child here, she remembered that much. It was the only thing she was sure about.

But was it hers?

She reached out for the woman. “Are you Castor?” She asked. The woman did not know who Castor was, but knew the name, knew they would help. She needed to find them; and she needed to find Sylvi too. Rayyan would never forgive her for losing their little girl. “Please, help me.” She was pleading, pleading in a way that felt so strange and out of character. A fact she knew despite her sense of self being gone. She could have cried, but the almost hysterical chuckling was holding back the tears that were dampening her eyes. “I need to-.”

As she reached out, her weight shifted, and the taller woman felt her balance fail her, and she fell towards the ground from her kneeling position.

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The stranger was half-hanging into her fountain, and Jada moved more quickly as the person powered down into a barely dressed woman, almost familiar, but just out of reach of recognition. It was the strengest thing, like she’d passed the woman on the street, had a conversation with him, had known her name, once. But no longer. What memory and familiarity was there was out of touch.

“No,” she said gently, and knelt on the edge of the fountain, careful. “I haven’t seen your daughter.” We said we would meet on Earth. Well, s**t. There was only one thing she could think of that might scramble a person up this much, unless they actually WERE an alien from space, like Caedus… and that was purification, or corruption. Like when Audrey had become Daphne, almost- or worse, when she had become Lina in truth, and addled enough to murder Jada’s family and think it was love. But this one hadn’t been spilling Chaos in the brief moment Scylla had felt her.

“I’m not Castor,” she said after a moment, pieces falling in a pattern she hoped was accurate, “But I will help you. I promise.” Jada reached out to help the larger woman, and caught her before she could faceplant off the short lip of the fountain and onto the driveway. s**t. s**t. s**t. “I’m Jada.” she was struggling to keep the woman balanced, silently cursing the height difference. An extra 6-8 inches made it really hard to- damnit.

“Come on, I have a room in my house.” her voice was a slow panic. “I can call Castor, or give you a place to rest until we can see about finding your daughter. I’m a mother myself.”

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“Jada?” She whispered, resting her body against the smaller womans. Her name was strange on her lips, and her face morphed from one that held slightly recognition to a strangers. This raven haired beauty was not Martha, and that itself was a relief. She never wanted to see the face of her cruel ex-wife ever again. “You understand then Jada.” Her voice shook as she spoke, dread building up in her heart as her eyes took in this strange world. “I…. don’t want to be on a world without her,” For a few very brief moments Sylvi was alive and well in her mind, but this was not Mjolnir, this was Earth in the very distant future. And Syvi’s bones were long since ashes and dust. She was too late, numerous lifetimes too late. And the brunette grieved in a way that was stolen from Eir; who was dead long before her daughter reached the safety of another world.

Tears ran down her face and her body went limp on her companions, like the realisation has stolen every scrap of her strength and will to fight. “Castor, is going to be so disappointed with me.” Because she had forgotten after she had promised she would not. “Rayyan is going to be so disappointed with me.” For loosing their little girl after she promised to protect her. “I have let everyone down.” And she did not know how to forgive herself. “Especially my poor Sylvi.” Who she could only hope lived a free and happy life away from her warmongering mother, before the blade or old age took her. The brunette panted and wheezed, her hand finding her chest and gripping tightly like it hurt.

“What am I going to do Jada? I don’t know what I am going to do.” She bit her lower lip, shaking her head as she gripped tightly onto the smaller woman. She did not even know who she was, how was she meant to make any plan of action? Especially when her heart felt so heavy.

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The larger body rested against Jada, and the smaller woman let the stranger relax there, however briefly it would be. “I do understand.” her voice broke, thinking about her own child, who would have been 2 not even a full week prior, had she… “I understand very well.” she reached out, groping for the other woman’s hand, squeezing it. Only to feel the other woman sag, defeated. Whoever it was, Jada could feel her own belly and heart clenching in response, mourning for the sadness of this woman she did not even know, someone who was freshly missing someone who had once been the most dear.

Castor… Who was this Rayyan? She didn’t know, and there were no words she could speak to offer this stranger succor. Instead, she simply shifted, tugging the stranger closer to her, holding her as she mourned. “You don’t have to know what you are going to do today.” her voice was firm, and there was no doubt or hesitation. “Come inside with me. We’ll get you some food, a bath, I’ll find you some clean clothes. A bed.”

The woman’s hair was either matted or dreadlocked, or a little bit of both. She didn’t smell awful, but she smelled of despair, and the clothing she wore… Castor. Whatever she was missing, whatever she was on the edge of, this woman needed support, not judgment. She needed to feel safe. A place to mourn, to heal, in privacy. If the mansion was good for any one thing, it was that. “Please, let me help. What should I call you?”

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The woman paused for a long moment, as if she was contemplating the woman's most simple of questions. “Mjolnir.” She finally answered, giving an exasperated sigh as she did so. “You can call me Mjolnir for now, before I figure something else out.” It was the one constant; though she had lived with other names before, she had always and would always be the Berserkir Senshi. The woman pushed off of the floor, standing on unsteady feet if Jada wanted her to or not. Her legs were shaky and her balance was off, it would have been easier to crawl to the house.

“What is this place? A hotel?” It was large enough to be a hotel, but far more upmarket than anything she was used to seeing. The brunette looked down at the other woman, one arm still spread across her for support. Yvaine easily forgot how heavy she was, or that Jada might struggle.She should have been grateful that she had found herself in such forgiving and helpful company; but it was very hard to feel anything but self pity in that moment. She did not feel like she had belonged here and she had not found a single soul that she had set out to find. The truly tragic thing was, even if she had found Castor or Sylvi, she doubted they would be able to offer much comfort.

She was seeking the remnants of a dream, working towards the few bits of memory that remained, names and faces she was clinging onto to give her a reason to move. She did not know who either of these people was - she just knew that they were, or they had been at some point. Grey eyes looked towards Jada once more, her head swimming in a sea of confusion. “Please help me.” Jada seemed to have a better idea than herself to what she needed, so was willing to put her faith in her for now.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

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Mjolnir. She knew that name- Giulia had not told her much, but she had told her the name of the Dark Mirror senshi who had protected her in their garden, who had found her, and who had taken her to Elzo's for safety. She had told her of the lovely, supposedly sad Mewdile, her dark swan who was lonely and not actually bad- who was clearly cursed, but had a good inside her. Giulia had romanticized everything, yet there had been no taint in the aura she had sensed, and with this confusion...

Purification, then. By Castor? Perhaps. It would explain why she had asked about him- and the sand-blasting that came with the change to her starseed might...? Well. It was a theory, at least.

"That's a bit of a mouthful, but we'll manage." her smile was quick to red lips, and she helped the tall (very tall) woman up off the ground, brushing at her legs, frowning at the cuts. "No, this isn't a hotel. This is my home. Me, and Giulia, and Aidan." three people, for such a large home. Even when the staff was here, sometimes it felt empty. "Well, and Cas- the cat, though we're thinking about a dog too." She's almost name-dropped the very one she had been asked about, and wouldn't that be confusing?

"This is your home now, until you're ready to find someplace better." it was not an invitation or an offer- it was fact. If this was Mjolnir, then Jada owed her more than she could ever repay with a mere place to stay. "Let's go inside, and I will take you to the kitchen. You can eat, and I'll find something to clean your cuts, then we'll get you a shower." And while Mew was eating, she'd get some clothing delivered. Some big clothing. "Do you prefer pants to wear, or dresses?"

Did she remember?

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“It would be just as difficult to call me Berserkir.” The words came out almost instinctively. Not only her sphere but her title from ages past, a glove that fit her comfortably; like it had done Saga and like it had done Eir. She looked at Jada and then looked to her feet like she was ashamed of what she had remembered. “I think I was a warrior Jada, but I do not think I was a very noble one.” She thought back to the girl she had met here, with her very childish outlook on knights and Princesses, she felt like she had let her down. For she was more of a Mad King than a just and good Lady Knight.

She sighed, frustration starting to show on her face, she hated the fact she could not remember but at the same time, have the words on the tip of her tongue. As much as she told herself to be patient with herself, her heart was aching. She was so lost, so confused, so scared. The woman looked at the estate once more, trying to distract her mind. So this was a private estate? “You are some kind of royalty then?” She asked, she had met royalty before, and it only made sense that a royal would live in such a place. “Are you some kind of Princess?” The words left her mouth far too casually.

The trail of thought was cut off by Jada’s question, she looked down at her clothing and her free hand grabbed hold on her shirt. Who’s was this? She brought the collar to her nose and smelt it, her mouth a solid, disapproving line. It smelt of a stranger, and she was not at all too pleased about the fact. “It stinks.” She pouted. Grey eyes caught sight of a small shimmering chain around her neck, and her heart almost stopped. Long fingers instinctively reached to her neck, and from under the shirt she brought out a small pendant, relief coming over her face as her fingers wrapped around it

It was almost like she had found her comfort blanket. “I-.” She began, trying her best to find an answer to Jada’s question, but coming out blank. “I am not too sure, I am grateful for anything you would offer. Whatever the style.” As long as she could get off of this stinky man smelling shirt sooner rather than later. “I think... I would prefer to be clean before we ate.” A small blush came across her face, it seemed very impolite to eat whilst unpresentable. Lessons from a mother taught, sticking in her mind even when all other remnants of her parents were gone.

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"It would be a lot stranger to call you Berserkir in front of any staff, too." there was no malice in her reply, just a bland statement of fact that came with a little smile. "Warrior or not, I think that what matters is survival, Mjolnir. Honor does no one any good if they are dead. Whatever you are, you're alive, and you can be whatever you want from this point on." There was no doubt, only conviction.

The question startled her, and Jada paused. "Not exactly," she said after a moment of thought. "My ward- my daughter, Giulia- wishes that she was a princess, but we're not nobility in the sense you might think. More like... a wealthy merchant's family." it was the easiest, most accurate way to explain it. Jada turned her head to the mansion, considering. It wasn't that big, compared to what they could have ended up with, but Victor had wanted a more 'comfortable' house.

Clean before eating. Sensible, though it gave Jada less time to get clothing handled. It would be alright, though- she had a few things that would serve if it took too long. That was what leggings and dresses were for- they would be like capri-leggings and a tunic, on this giantess, and look awesome. "Then I'll show you to a room first. While you're showering, or bathing, I'll get you some clothes and bring some food. Do you know anything about the kind of food you like?"

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“Is survival really that important?” The brunette asked, her brows furrowing in mild confusion. Nothing did the dead any good. Honour was for the living, not the ones in a grave Grey eyes looked back towards the house as they approached. “What do you sell?” Something just was not adding up in her mind, whatever they sold it must be very valuable, a world long beyond her own reach. What did her home look like? She asked herself the question again and again, but all that came to mind was the pungent smell of ash and the taste of cinders. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her palms sweating, an instinct in her telling her it was best to forget. Ofelia had spent so many years wishing she could destroy her memories, an irony that would be lost on Yvaine.

Home had long since fell through her fingers, dwelling on it would just make her ill. She stepped inside with Jada, her eyes scanning the area, but not being able to take in the gandure of it all. The smaller woman was pointing out doors, trying to show her around, but nothing was sticking. Yvaine was too doe eyed and confused to retain any information really. Finally, the two approached the ‘room’ that Jada had mentioned, and the black haired woman was the first to enter.

She shook her head at the woman's question, feeling tears threaten her eyes. “I am sorry, I am not being very helpful. I know.” The brunette did not know what else to say, how else she could word it; her mind was a void. Useless and broken. Heavy tears fell down her face silently. “I don’t know anything.” Her fingers wrapped tighter around her necklace, so much so the jagged edges started to leave an impression in her palm, the crystal was sharp in places, but nothing compared to the cuts that littered her skin.

“Am I going to remember?” She asked, not knowing which answer she would prefer. If she should fight to recall or just accept this as her fate. Either way, at least then she could start planning for the future. “Who am I? I don’t understand how this has happened.” She shook her head violently as she finally, came to sit on the edge of the bed, her palms rubbing her eyes to get rid of the tears.

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"Survival's better than dying. If you're alive you can redeem your honor later. If you're alive, you can keep seeking your answers, instead of going to eternity unfulfilled." she guided the taller woman across the smooth, sealed gravel drive, towards the front door. Opened it easily, smoothly, leading the way into the massive marble-floored entry, trying to imagine how the ornate woodwork, wide stairs, marble, high ceilings... the chandelier, the dual staircase, the doors to the ballroom ahead, and the gardens visible through all the glass... Sometimes it looked more like a hotel than a home.

"Oh, we've sold lots of things over the generations." it was a vague answer, because a straight one was unimportant. As she guided the woman, she moved slowly. "Kitchen is here. You can come here any time and find food. I have a chef, so don't be startled if you meet her there." Next, up the stairs, and Jada showed her the door to her study, and then pointed to the door that led to the library, and Jada's room.

From her closet, Jada grabbed a pair of leggings, a short dress Yvaine could use as a tunic. Some boy shorts she'd bought just a few days before, as of yet unworn, a pair of socks. From her bathroom she grabbed some bath bombs, a few small luxuries they didn't stock for guests, a spare razor, a small selection of feminine products just in case.

And then to the woman's new suite, Jada opening the door into windowed room. A living room, it looked like- television, desk, couch- with a bedroom and a bathroom attached as well. "Those doors lead to a balcony, but you don't have steps directly to the garden, I'm sorry. I will let you pick out your own room once you're rested."

She pushed open the bathroom door, taking a seat on the edge of the toilet and laying out the items she had brought on the edge. "You'll remember. I think I know how it happened. Do you remember Chaos, Mjolnir?"

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“Chaos?” The brunette mumbled to herself. Her brows furrowed and she remained silent for a good long moment, strain showing on her face as she tried her best to remember something, anything. Then finally she spoke. “I remember a world very different to this one. It was cold and dark, filled with creatures that looked like they were made out of glass and stardust. There was a palace made from crystal and a throne room where a blonde man would sit, he had wings and wore too flamboyant regalia. I do not think that seat was his though, I think it belonged to a Princess before - he was just keeping it warm.” She felt no malice towards the man in her memory, his face caused her heart to ache with guilt. However, the image she had of the Princess of Smoke; it caused a shiver of fear to run up her spine.

She pushed herself off from the bed and followed Jada into the bathroom. Literally running from the demon in her mind. She did not want to remember her.

The taller woman sat at the edge of the tub, looking at Jada intensely, her eyes were more focused than they had been all night. “I was trying to find something that I had lost- or was taken.” By the Princess, before she disappeared, before Remarque took over at the court's leader. “I told Castor I would find it, I promised I would not come back until I did.” She did not know exactly what it was, but it must have been something very important. Maybe it belonged to Castor? Maybe it was something he needed? All that she could remember was the light it gave off, a vibrant red light that illuminated the entire room in crimson, it almost hurt to look at. “I am back now though, so I must have found it. Or else they will be very disappointed, I think.” A hand rested on her chest, she had put it in here. She was carrying it in her rib cage.

She pouted, how was she going to get it back out? She could not prove that her quest had been successful if she had nothing to show, if she had nothing to give this figure in her memory that was no more than a voice. “What is Castor?” She asked, not knowing if Castor was a man, woman, animal or spirit. She pulled the man’s shirt over her head and held it to her chest, before leaning down to smell it again. The look of displeasure on her face just as readable the second time around.

“It smells like a stranger.” Worse, a strangers preference of perfume.

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Creatures of glass and stardust. Jada swallowed, trying not to look pained at the reference to what she assumed may be the mirror wraiths- the inside of the Dark Mirror. She had never seen that realm, and when Ares and Laocoon and Alexandros had taken her stepping through their world, it had been… different. Now, the senshi of the Kraken could only imagine how it looked, what Mjolnir had seen. A man keeping a throne warm. In the other room, she closed her eyes, trying to imagine, and knowing she was failing miserably.

Footsteps, and Jada shifted position, turning to bring Mjolnir into view. Trying to find something taken. Castor, being involved- there were few enough things she could think of, honestly. And never really with a senshi. She'd seen it with agents to knights, seen the flip side of corruption, but a senshi fighting their way back to the side of Order? She couldn't think of any stories of that off the top of her head. But then, she didn’t know everything.

And what else could she be facing? The Mjolnir she had heard of...

"Castor is a senshi. Or my cat, depending on who we're talking about. But I think we're talking about the senshi." Jada leaned over, pushing the bath bombs closer as the other woman tugged the shirt off. "He has the ability to help make people better, if they were touched by Chaos. Or so I understand." She rather wished she had listened more to the details of what abilities these so-called 'royals' had. "But when they get better, sometimes things are... scrambled. Like a fever, burning away sickness. Sometimes people aren't the same after."

Would she understand? Jada didn't, so how could she try and explain? "Pick a scent you like,” she said instead, gesturing to the options laying on the edge of the garden tub, “I can have that shirt washed if you want. We can get you some new clothes once the stores open in the morning, and I can bring my laptop and we can do some online shopping tonight. You can pick things that look comfortable, but the best way to ensure fit and get you undergarments would be going out in the morning."

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“Your cat?” That got a smile out of her, she liked cats. Maybe she would get to meet the cat? He sounded preferable over the senshi. The brunette looked at the bath bombs, picking up one in each hand. She gravitated to the warmer colours, the oranges and pinks, though the notion was unintentional. She pressed them both to her nose one at a time, a tiny bit of powder transfering to make an orange dot right on the tip. She put one back, keeping in her hand the one that smelt like cinnamon. “Can I have this, please?” She asked, passing the ball between her hands like it was yarn. Anything to keep her fingers busy, to distract her mind.

Then she pouted slightly. “So, Castor did this to me, then?” She asked, her nose scrunching up for a second. It was a hard fact to swallow, but she knew there was some truth behind it. Nobody wanted to know that they were a villain, immoral and dishonourable and bad. There must have been something twisted about her, right to her core to warrant such a punishment. If the only solution was to break who she was before. “I was sick, infected by chaos and this was a solution.” The taller woman sighed, running her hand through her hair to throw her dreadlocks behind her back. She felt nauseous and ashamed.

“I-.” She dropped the bath bomb into the water, grey eyes watching it fizz. “I want to be alone for a while.” It was a request, but it might have sounded to be an order. She just needed time to think, to come to terms with what had happened.. Though, she did not want to seem ungrateful and despite her desire to curl up in a ball and shut out the world, Jada was trying her best to help her. It would be both cruel and foolish to push her away. “We can, look at things later, if that will please you. I am still hungry; and I am sure we will have plenty of time to talk then.” For now though, she had enough to reflect on.

She passed the shirt over to Jada without looking at her.

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Ah, there was a smile; Jada was struck by how a lovely smile transformed an almost plain face into one that was almost stunning. She let her own relax, and watched the stranger consider each of the bath bombs with a curiosity that made the woman wonder how much of her companion's interest was based in the remaains of stolen memories and how much of it was sheer novelty. "Of course you can," she replied without hesitation to the woman's request, and gathered up the rest, tucking them in one of the drawers. "You can use any of them that strike your fancy."

Whatever had happened? How was she alone, and injured? She didn't remember anything but the name of Castor... should she tell Elzo? Well, she would have to before family night tomorrow, but she wondered if seeing him might be too much, just yet? It would be something she could discuss with Mjolnir in the morning. "I think it was," she confirmed reluctantly, "The Mjolnir I heard about was... sick." she refused to use the word corrupted to a woman already in such fragile ground. "If you're the same one, then I think this is fallout from Castor helping you."

The bomb hit the water, and Mjolnir said she wanted to be alone. Jada rose without comment, nodding and accepting the shirt. "Come out when you're ready. If you don't have an objection, I'll go get some food and come back to check on you in about an hour. Make sure you get in bed if you've fallen asleep in the bath." Mjolnir's situation was awful, and the least she could offer the woman right now was some small authority over her life, to go along with whatever material support she needed right now.