love is not a victory march

[endingpoint]

Who: Jane Doe and OPEN
Where: Mansion grounds, around the mansion
When: May 30
Rating: PG, but could go up, will edit if needed
Summary: Jane arrives in Wonderland. SPOILERS FOR THE BLINDSPOT SEASON 1 FINALE.
The Story:

on the mansion grounds

[If Taylor Shaw is dead, then who the hell are you?

That's the problem; Jane has no idea now. She thought, all along, that she was giving peace and hope to a family that so badly needed it, but then Oscar confessed, blood samples were swapped, and Kurt's father confessed too, to a little girl buried with her doll because she was too afraid to go through life without it. Everything, what happened to Mayfair, what this revelation is doing to Kurt, is breaking her, so when he arrests her she doesn't fight it. She's broken and bruised from fighting Oscar, her face a story in different shades of black and red, her torso aching, but she sinks down, hands at the back of her head, shaking, even as she's cuffed.

She deserves this. She's earned this. Closing her eyes, she waits for what's next, head bowed.

And then...there's a breeze?

Opening her eyes again, she blinks to realize she's outside, not at all in New York, in someplace completely different, but she has no idea how or where. Too shocked to move for a moment as she faces a mansion, she looks around for a few moments, swallowing hard. Was this what happened when you wanted to escape your mind so badly? Or maybe she was restrained, sedated somewhere. Slowly, Jane gets to her feet clumsily, hands still cuffed behind her back, lip and cut at her cheekbone bleeding as she walks toward the only building there is, passing a garden on the way that she'd normally notice, but for now doesn't even see.]

inside the mansion/bar

[She's out of the cuffs, her face is cleaned up the best it can be, and now she's just in awe as she wanders. This is...this is insane, and a little has been explained to her, but she really can't believe half of what's being told to her about Wonderland and magic and too many other things to remember right now. Not necessarily wanting to be on the first floor, but not at the very top either, she goes for floor five and settles in, wetting her lips.

Then, she finds the bar by accident. She needs a shot or two, or ten, still so confused about why she's here and how. She's wearing her jacket, so all but her hand tattoos and the ones at the very top of her chest and side of her neck are visible. Is she here because someone who knows about the ink on her body got her here, somehow?

No matter the reason why, she sincerely hopes no one cares if she drinks until she can just barely make it to her room and collapses in bed.]

Comments

>> mansion

[startingpoint]

[ His first thought when he arrived was, Where the hell is Jane? He's not completely sober, though not overly inebriated, either; not enough that he should be doubting his senses, anyway, but he'd walked out of her safe house and ended up in some strange garden far from home. So...he's doubting everything. But the chaotic mess of emotions coursing through his veins, colliding with the alcohol, serves to make him extremely paranoid about Jane - his prisoner, not his friend - and where she is. Did she plan this? She let him cuff her without a fight (unusual for her, but her injuries didn't entirely escape his notice), but maybe that was a ruse, just to make him think she was prepared to go quietly so she could turn on him again.

He has no idea how she would have masterminded this, though, and that's the problem. Is she even here? He ends up talking to a few people on the weird device he'd been provided with, so he's at least clearer on the fact that Jane isn't really responsible for this. Probably.

After about fifteen minutes of searching an odd and incredibly large mansion, he turns the corner and sees her a few feet from him, down the hallway. His voice is thunderous down the corridor as he surges forward, practically hissing as he grabs her upper arm. ]

Jane.

[endingpoint]

[When she hears his voice, everything in Jane freezes, like a deer sensing vibrations in the road just before being struck by a car. When he grabs her, the bruises on her body are still so fresh that the pain makes her cry out involuntarily.

He's so angry, and she doesn't blame him, not for a second, but he hasn't even heard everything yet, and it crosses her mind that just twenty-four hours ago, he would have worried about the state of her. She tries to straighten herself, to be strong in front of him, and she truly doesn't know what to say, her chin trembling as she tries to keep herself in check.]

[startingpoint]

[ That cry of pain jerks him out of his anger-induced haze. He wants to put her in an interrogation room and grill her, wants to know what the truth is, what else she's been hiding. He doesn't want to hurt her, and he hopes like hell she doesn't give him a reason to. Lying for months, compromising their cases, possibly putting the team in danger - that's enough to make him want her locked up for a while. If he finds out things are even worse than that, he won't hesitate, he'll put a bullet in her. Don't let it come to that, he silently begs.

Moving his hand, he presses his palm to her back, opening up the door to the room and nudging her in ahead of him. He's not rough with his touch, controlling himself. He shuts the door behind him, though, not wanting to talk out in the open. ]

What do you know?

[endingpoint]

[Jane knew this was coming as soon as he grabbed her, and she closes her eyes, wishing that he could focus through his blinding anger to see her.]

Nothing, Kurt. I don't know anything. I thought I was Taylor, I thought...I never had a reason to think I wasn't. You said I was Taylor, and I believed you. You tested my DNA, I never had a reason to not think...

[Jane's eyes close again, unable to stop the tears that are falling, having no control over it.]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not her. I'm sorry.

[startingpoint]

[ He hears what she's saying, but it's not sinking in. Everything out of her mouth that doesn't seem to explain something just hits a wall and disappears, with him not really listening to any of it. He may have told her she was Taylor, but she made the choice to lie. God, why did she lie? ]

What else did you lie about, Jane? Tell me everything. Now.

[endingpoint]

I never told you anything that I didn't think was true.

[She thought she was Taylor. She thought they went fishing. She thought it was real, all of it, it wasn't a lie. None of it was a lie. It wasn't a lie when she told him he was her starting point, it was't a lie when she kissed him. The day before he'd brought her back to life, and now he might as well have left her dead on the ground.

Maybe it would have been better for both of them. But now she has to tell him the truth. And it almost seems like if she tells him the worst now, then it'll be done.]

Mayfair's...[She chokes on the words, breaking down.] I was trying to find you, to tell you. Mayfair's dead. I saw the person who killed her. And I killed him. He wanted to kill you. I wanted to bring him in, but we fought, and I...

[She can't stay standing anymore and sinks down into a chair, not even looking at Kurt, not sure what to expect now.]

[startingpoint]

[ The sound that passes from his lips then is a keening wail, guttural and then nonsensically angry. He can't - won't - direct the amount of rage he's feeling at her, because he doesn't trust himself in this moment. Every nerve and muscle in his body tenses, and he grabs something - he doesn't even know what - just throwing it hard at the wall before turning his back on her and holding his head in his hands. He sinks down to his knees, still not looking at her - not trusting himself to right now - biting back furious tears.

Mayfair's gone.

Taylor's gone. The tiny bones he unearthed and cradled in his arms were put in a grave twenty-five years ago by the man he'd finally forgiven, and started to love again. He doesn't know what to believe anymore. He can't even trust himself or his own instincts anymore. All this time, Jane was never Taylor. He wanted her to be so badly that he ignored those other clues pointing in the other direction. Reade had been right all along, he just never wanted to see it. ]

grounds

[howkickassiam]

[ York emerged on the grounds of the mansion, having gone through the portal at Wyoming's fortress, and arrived here. This was—rightfully—not at all what he was expecting, and he stops for a moment, looking on in shock. The only person he sees is a handcuffed woman, wandering her way toward the distant mansion, and he watches her for a moment before he runs over to catch up to her. None of this makes sense, but she's obviously in some kind of distress, and the cuffs aren't a good sign. ]

Hey, there! Hey, do you know where we are?

[ He's careful to sound friendly, because he's wearing his armor and holding a rifle, but that can't be helped. He'll just have to make the most of things, as much as he's able. ]

grounds

[endingpoint]

[At first it doesn't register that he's talking to her, but she turns after a moment, startled by the armor, taking a step back, stumbling a little and righting herself. She's aching everywhere, especially her shoulders, but she shakes her head, finding her voice.]

No. I'm not...I have no idea where we are. I wasn't here, and then I was. In a blink. Who are you?

[howkickassiam]

York.

[ He hadn't been called that in a long time, not until Tex came around again, but it seems fitting to give that as a name now. He's really not sure why, it just...does. ]

Listen, what's with the cuffs? Did Wyoming have you prisoner or something?

[ Because if it was Wyoming, then she definitely deserved to be set free. Though in the condition she's in, he'd probably opt to set her free no matter what. He was still in the habit of carrying a set of lock picks around with him, so the cuffs would be short work for them. ]

[endingpoint]

[She could lie, but she has no idea who Wyoming is, who where she is, and whether or not that lie would lead to something worse.]

I don't know who Wyoming is. I was...I was under arrest, and then I came here.

[It only occurs to her, right now, that Kurt hadn't had any legitimate reason to arrest her on the spot; later he would, but for not being Taylor Shaw? No.]

So, you don't know where we are either?

[howkickassiam]

No, this isn't where I was supposed to be either.

[ He turns to look at the mansion, using the zoom function on his HUD to get a closer look. It's large and impressive, but otherwise nondescript—there's no sign on the grounds that would indicate what it is and none of the detailing helps with this knowledge either.

He looks back at the woman with him. ]

Well, I'm going to assume whatever they arrested you for, it doesn't matter here. What's your name?

[ With that he puts his rifle on his back and reaches for the storage compartment at his hip to get his lock picks out. ]

[endingpoint]

[For a moment she tenses, not sure what he's going for, but she relaxes, swallowing her fear and just watching him.]

I'm Jane.

[Not Taylor Shaw, after all. Though Kurt was right, she'd never even started calling herself that. Maybe she'd known, on some level deep down she was never Taylor.]

bar }

[deathlessness]

[Since Freya probably spends her time in the bar more often than not, she's perched on the bar not too far down from Jane when she comes in. She catches her attention right away - it's hard not to when you have tattoos like that - but she leaves her alone for now, just so that she can get the measure of her before she jumps in.

It's clear before too long that the other woman is upset, however, so she tries to make light conversation, something that she hopes will distract her from her troubles.]

That is ... incredibly intricate work.

[She can't help but notice the tattoos, it's the most obvious thing about her.]

There are certain tribes in South America that use tattoos like that to tell a story. Was it something similar for you?

[endingpoint]

[Jane isn't sure what to say at first, going over all of the possible answers in her mind. She's almost positive no one here knows who she is or what she is - no more than anyone else, anyway, and she's almost positive no one's here because they want to be. She's likely safe from any people who'd want information to use against her.

Clearing her throat, she glances over, revealing her bruised face and nods just a little.]

Kind of. I guess, um...every tattoo's helped bring down some sort of...illegal operation. Like a map to bad guys.

[Usually that'd be said with so much more levity, but now she is the bad guy.]

[deathlessness]

[She can sense the weight of those words, before she takes another sip of her drink and turns to face her.]

There can be power in something like that. Do you feel like you've helped people with them? Or is it something that's been used against you?

[endingpoint]

It's...complicated.

[Which is the biggest understatement.]

People have died because of them. Good people.

[With that statement, she downs what's in her glass and nods for another, rubbing her fingers over her lips and then wincing, remembering too late that the bottom lip is busted.]

[deathlessness]

[She pauses for a moment before nodding slowly.]

I'm sorry. Loss is always difficult to deal with.

[endingpoint]

Yeah.

[Jane finishes everything in her glass, asks for more, and this time just turns it around on the bar top, breath catching.]

I think I've lost a lot. And now I'm here. I don't know if it's better or worse.

[Probably worse, because Kurt's here too, and he hates her in a pretty specific way, so that's shitty.]

[ Action | Bar ] (plays with dates oops)

[widows_kiss]

[ A drink is also ridiculously high on Natasha's own list of priorities, so the bar is one of the first places she heads once she gets her bearings on being back in Wonderland.

Only to stop short at the sight of the woman seated at the bar, blinking as she realizes she recognizes her. Not that they've been properly introduced, exactly, but she's heard plenty of stories from Thor. ]

...Lady Sif?

:')

[endingpoint]

[It takes a little while to even realize she's being spoken to, but finally Jane turns and looks at the other woman fully and shakes her head a little.]

No, sorry.

[Although, for all she knows, hell, maybe she is. She's not Taylor Shaw. She could be anyone right now.]

I don't think, anyway.

[widows_kiss]

[ She's close enough now that she can see the crawl of ink up the side and back of the woman's neck, the dark hair cropped short rather than drawn back in a high ponytail. Differences, but still. The resemblance was startling.

It has her hesitating before offering an apologetic smile. ]

I'm sorry. You look very much like someone I knew from home.

[endingpoint]

It's okay.

[Jane's planning on leaving it at that, but then she looks over at again, to curious not to ask.]

Is that something that happens a lot here?

[widows_kiss]

[ Natasha cocks her head to the side thoughtfully as she sinks down next to the woman. ]

I'm not sure. It might? This place plays a lot with times and alternate worlds - things that are close, but not quite the same.

[ A pause. ]

There's another me here, so I suppose anything is possible.

[endingpoint]

...What does that mean, another you? You know it's you, but...

[Hang on, she's been drinking, she's had a really, really bad day. She needs to try and wrap her head around this.]

Do you know each other?