The first thing Leo did upon returning to Evermore City was go to the Nephilim Territory.

She was looking for one person in particular, and she knew where she would find them. At least, she thought she did. Upon arriving at their house, the newly-turned Niveis found that they no longer lived there. Further questions around the city later, and she was met with the news that the woman she was looking for had died from an altercation with their father. Hearing that drove Leona back to liquor---was there no one left that she loved? Would she never find those who had wronged her?

That evening, Leo holed up in the penthouse she used to loan to her eldest brother---her chest ached being here, but it was too soon to return to the mountains just yet. She was working her way through a bottle of absinthe, losing all hope of finding the only finally she had left, when her phone vibrated on the coffee table before. Slumped in an armchair, Leo let her almond eyes lazily move towards the smartphone, scanning the illuminated screen uninterestedly.

The name of the messenger was that of one of the few PIs Leona had hired. This one, she had hired to find the Nephilim woman---before she found out she was dead. But three words under his name cause her to stare. She sucked in her breath, the bottle slipping to the carpet with a muffled thump. Scrambling, she sat up in her seat, a long, toned arm reaching forward to snatch the phone. Bringing it towards her, Leona stared at the locked screen, reading the preview over and over again:

SHE ISN'T DEAD.

An address was linked to the message, and Leo only stopped to grab her bag, slip on a pair of heeled chelsea boots, and with a roll of her shoulders, extended her wings. Although she was no longer a fire-lord, over two centuries worth of flight-practice gave her the speed she needed as she tore through the air. Finally, she reached the hotel, and mentally, she counted the floors and rooms in her head. It took her a minute to figure out which room was the right out, and so she swooped in gracefully, her wings folding back into their tattooed state just as her feet touched the ground.

The balcony door was locked, but that was no problem for her as she froze the lock, then simply pushed. Silently, she slinked into the suite, olive-green irises scanning through the dimly lit room. No one was home, but there were signs of life. Leo figured it was lucky that she had travelled the world with the Nephilim, for the clothes on the floor definitely were that of the Detective's style.

A sigh slipped past her full, bare lips. It was obvious that the woman was no home. That was no matter, Leona thought, as she made her way towards an armchair, sinking into the plush cushions as her fingers reached into her back, pulling out a flask.

When the door would open and the lights flicker. on, Leona would simply smirk up at the woman as she entered, an eyebrow raised at Cornelia as they would meet each other's gaze for the first time in four years. "Where have you been, Braddick?" she slurred, teasing the Detective with her former petname for her. She'd then rise to her feet and make her way slowly towards the woman who had once been her best friend, her smirk moulding into warm, small smile. "It's me: Leona," she said after a while, gesturing to her lithe new form. "I kind of died...for real this time. Now I'm not..." Her voice caught, and swallowing down the lump in her throat, she would shake her head and avert her gaze to take a sudden interest in the tops of her boots. "I really need your help, Cor," she would say, hesitating before meeting the Detective's mocha hues once more. The whites of her eyes now were tinted pink, as tears pricked at the backs of her optics and threaten to spill over.  "Alex was taken, and I can't find him."

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Navigating Evermore wasn't as easy as Cornelia had imagined. While it had only been less than 2 years since she last walked down the same streets of the eternal city, she could hardly remember any of it. The past year and a half had been tumultuous from waking up in Greece with no name and no memory to slowly figuring out who she was from the less-than-ideal flashbacks. It was when Sebastian, who had found her when she first awoke, mentioned the city, Cornelia knew there was something here for her - something that was part of her identity.

And she was right. This was her home, this is where her family lived, this is where she had made friends and a stellar reputation as detective and Nephilim ambassador and though she couldn't recall much of it, she had now a vague sense of idea of who she was. While most would think of that as a victory, it's the other side of the coin that completely threw her off. Being around constant stimulus from her past made it almost impossible to escape the flashbacks that kept hitting her like a bullet train. She would be walking down the streets when the scent of what she figured was her favourite type of coffee would suddenly bring her to her knees, a painful series of memories ripping through her and re-embedding themselves into her mind.

But there was one thing that hadn't left her from her past life; her stubbornness. She was ready to go through whatever it took to get back to her lost life and assure the people around her, the ones who cried tears of joy upon seeing her, that she was still the same Cornelia Bradford, and the only way to do that was by allowing these memories to find their way back, no matter how hard the process became. She guessed it was her inherent nature to never ask for help, and perhaps what got her killed in the first place.

Well, not killed, Cornelia often reminded herself, almost killed.

Opening the door to her room, Cornelia took a deep breath - this was the only place that she seemed to have no previous memories attached to. A safe haven for when the flashbacks were too strong and too frequent. She fumbled in the dark momentarily before finding the switch and as soon as light rolled across all corners of the room, her breath got caught in her throat.

She gasped out loud, her hand immediately reaching for the knife in her back-pocket. "Who are you?" The nephilim questioned as soon as their gazes met. The other woman spoke, words that sounded vaguely familiar. Did Cornelia know her? She watched her rise to her feet and walk towards her and instinctively the younger woman took a step back. Leona.

Leona. The name rang in her mind but a faint memory was all she could gather. She knew a Leona, she was a psychotic Phoenix. Were they friends? From her words it seemed like it. And who was Alex? The moment she asked herself the question, a picture of a Vegas street-sign flashed across her mind but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"I'm sorry," Cornelia started, her lips turning into a frown. "I'm not a detective anymore, but I can call someone in the police station to help you?" While Cornelia didn't remember much of her time in the ECPD, she had figured a lot of people in the precinct still owed her favors and she was largely loved by the officers, surely they could help the brunette. That's why she was here right? Because she was a detective and Leona couldn't find her....husband.

Leo didn't expect tears or a flamboyant reaction from the Nephilim upon announcing her identity. However, it had been over three years since the two had last seen each other. She expected a hug or even shouts and curses. What Leo didn't expect, however, was the blank look in her friend mocha-brown irises, and not a glimmer of emotion etching into her features. This was one of the two women that she was read to call a sister once upon a time, the woman who had seen the Venetian at her lowest, and the woman that had stood by her husband when Leona walked down the aisle. Cornelia was her best friend, but there was nothing in her demeanour that hinted to that in the slightest. If another person were in the room, they would have thought the two were strangers.

Leo felt lines creasing into her brow as she grown, confusion in her olive-green eyes as she tilted her head to a side. "Cornelia, if this is about me being gone for so long without a word, I'm sorry," she worded carefully, her gaze searching for any chance in the Nephlim as she spoke. "Things got ugly, and--" Cornelia's last sentence was what stopped her, the lines etching deeper into her forehead. "I know you're not a detective anyone---I looked for you at the precinct, and they all said that you had died." Leona took a small step forward towards the woman, her lips pressed into a thin line as she searched for the words to say. "But I don't need the police station's help--they're absolutely hopeless, no offence," she said, her tone growing hushed. "I need you, Cor. You're the only one who can help find him." 

Leo would sigh then, her gaze flickering away from the Nephilim before she turned, long strides carrying her back to the armchair where she had nested before. "But that isn't why I'm here, at least that's not the main reason," she'd confess as she slumped down on the push cushions, elbows resting on her knees as she rested her face in her palms. "When I thought you were dead, I thought I failed you both---both you and Alex. I thought there was no hope, that I couldn't rescue either of you." A choked sigh would sound from the Venetian as she swallowed back the lump forming in the throat, a pressure weighing heavily down on her chest. "I don't know what to do," she'd admit, taking a deep breath to compose herself before looking up at Cornelia again. Blinking away the tears pricking the back of her eyes, Leo still couldn't comprehend Cornelia's reaction---or lack thereof. "Why are you looking at me so weirdly?" she questioned, the broken tone replaced by one of disbelief. "It really is me, I swear by my family's name."

There was no hint of recognition on the angel-child's face as the woman who once claimed to be her best friend spoke. She could sense the disappointment in the Niveis' tone and a part of her for once, willingly tried to call upon the flashbacks and allow them to overwhelm her. However, the memories never came and Cornelia found herself staring blankly at the brunette. "No, it's..." She tried to reply to her apology, let her know that it wasn't whatever she thought it was, but the blonde found herself fumbling for words, so instead she offered to pass along the info to the precinct and have an officer help her out.

However, as Leona refused to take the help of actual detectives, the Nephilim found herself taking a deep breath, immediately finding herself under a lot of pressure without even realising it. They must have been really close by Leona's words and a part of her felt extremely guilty for losing all her memories in the first place. "Yeah I..." She started once again, rolling her shoulders back, "I understand your plight, I do." Taking a step forward, she let her lips curl into a frown, "I just don't know how to help you."

It was when the Niveis nestled into the armchair, an aura of vulnerability exuding from her lithe form, Cornelia found herself a spot at the edge of the bed, pearly white teeth tugging at the bottom of her lip as she watched her. The angel-child unearthed a strong urge to wrap her arms around the other woman and hold her close as her voice broke, but with her fingers curled around the side of the bed, she stopped herself, still hesitant about their connection. "I believe you," The nephilim finally replied, nodding her head, "You have no reason to lie to me, but..." Looking away momentarily, Cornelia gulped. The woman in front of her seemed to have high hopes for her, holding onto the angel-child like her anchor. How was she going to tell her that she had no recollection of their relationship and not only could she not help her find her husband, she didn't even remember her husband? It seemed too cruel.

Rising to her feet, Cornelia took a step towards Leona, taking a seat at the edge of the table in front of her as she sighed, "Leona..." The name left her mouth with a familiar roll of her tongue, as she reached forward, letting her fingers gently hold her palm, the mere action causing electricity to run through her, a flash of memories as she quickly jolted her hand away, "Leona d'Fierro." She finally spoke, "I know who you are. You were Harrison's girlfriend."

Something felt incredibly off about the angel-child, the Niveis thought to herself as her brow creased, a frown setting upon her elven features as she eyed the demeanour of her closest friend. Leona sensed that Cornelia really did want to help, but there was something stopping her. The look in her mocha hues told the Venetian creature that she didn't recognise the friendship Leo claimed, she thought to herself. How could that be? She needed her friend to vent to, to get all the pain off her chest, from losing not just her husband, but her life too. Cornelia would have been the only one to understand, but now, she seemed to not even recognise the woman who may have been her sister-in-law if things had been different.

Curling up in the armchair, pieces started to form in the Venetian's mind. The clueless look in her eyes when she mentioned Alexander, the professional way she carried herself around Leona... It couldn't be. Leo's eyes widened for a moment before narrowing some, taking in every movement made by the angel-child. Optics were trained on her form as she sat herself down by the edge of the table, a hand reaching out to hold Leona's. But she jolted, Leona barely catching the shock and recognition that flashed in her violet-tinted hues. Her words confirmed the thoughts that coursed through her mind, the ice-wielder nodding in confirmation about her identity. She then leaned forward in her seat as full eyebrows pushed together. "Is that all you remember of me?" she queried, pursing her lips together. "What happened to you, cara mia?"

Elbows propped upon her knees, she leaned in closer towards the Nephilim woman. "Cornelia..." she started, her tone gentle, "I was Harrison's girlfriend six years ago. Six years ago, he died in front of the both of us." She stopped, pausing for a moment as she gauged her reaction. "You don't remember Alexander, do you?" She nodded to herself, pursing her lips as she controlled her emotions. There was nothing more she wanted to do that to vent about the tortures she'd undergone in the three years that had past, but in an instant, she bottled that up. In that moment, she knew that her problems didn't matter, at least, not to herself. "How much of your memories have you lost?" she asked. "What's the last you can remember of this city? Of us?" A small voice urged at her to mention her brother, but Leona couldn't bear to bring him up, not yet, at least. The change in her priorities shifted so suddenly. From wanting nothing but revenge not two minutes ago, now all Leona's focus was on one thing: figuring out what the hell happened to Cornelia Bradford.

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