From the Dust She Burned

    Somethine is happening in the harbor. To those sensitive to such emanations, it feels sort of like a Witch, the kind Puella fight. But not quite.. more, somehow. More intense. SOmeone who was at the hospital that night might recognize that feeling, though there's a different cast to it tonight. An angrier cast.

    Regardless, by the time Mamoru might arrive on the scene, it's over. He might have seen, as he was approaching, as massive column of fire shoot into the sky like a portal to hell had opened on the spot, but by the time he would have been able to arrive, even that had subsided. All that was left of a warehouse that had previously stood on the lot by the harbor was rubble- the bones of a building, strewn rock, charred wood. Debris scattered over an entire block, including several cars worth of those Eclipse Robo-goons, entirely trashed.

    Sirens can be heard in the distance as the mundane authorities begin to respond to what they will no-doubt classify as some kind of gas explosion. The actual cause of the disaster is clearly magical in origin, but at first glance is not apparent.

    Kyouko is down there though- laying amid the rubble in the center of the destroyed building. She looks.. well, dead. She isn't- there's a slight rise and fall to her chest. But you'd be forgive nfor thinking she was at first glance, her skin pale, her eyes closed, and blood running in thin streaks from her nose and the corners of her eyes.

He beat the first responders there -- good. He missed the fight -- bad. Even if he probably wouldn't have fought in it anyway, knowledge of who did what is something Tuxedo Kamen collects. Either way, his cape drifts behind him like the smoke it disturbs, white mask and gloves gleaming in the darkness as he picks his way through the rubble.

Clues are yielded regardless of lack of presence at the fight: Hannah's magic robo-goons, the flavor of horrible magic from when Hannah nearly destroyed herself at the hospital... but it doesn't taste like the banshee half-Witch she'd been.

It tastes red.

Unidentifiable wreckage of twisted technology and still-burning things, rubble and slowly settling caustic dust-- whoever did this probably got what they wanted, whatever it was.

That's what he's thinking when he sees an arm.

He's not thinking at all when he sees whose it is.

"...no no no no no no no no--"

In a flash, he's at Kyouko's side, thinking the worst; his gloves are just gone, vanished into wherever his henshin comes from, and one hand's immediately at the side of Kyouko's neck, looking for a pulse; the other's on her arm, his own energy flowing in to stabilize her, sustain her with his own life force whether or not he finds one. He doesn't have a lot of time, but he's not leaving her here even if she is dead--

"Kyou-chan," he says insistently, urgently, an edge in his voice. "Kyouko Sakura can you hear me?"

    Some rubble probably has to be shifted to free Kyouko's pummeled body, although, other than the blood leaking from her nose and eyes, she doesn't appear to have any actual wounds- nothing apparent, anyway. She's also, it should be noted, not in her henshin but in her normal civilian clothes, blue hoodie and jean shorts, looking a bit worse for wear at the moment as well, indicating that she must have de-henshined when she lost consciousness and has been laying here more-or-less human since.

    That said, it's fairly easy to determine that she's not actually dead, after the initial shock of seeing her here is over. The hand at her neck does indeed find a pulse- weak, maybe a bit irregular, but definately there.

    Mamoru touches her, and that seems to help, his healing energy stitching together what remains. As tends to be the case though, his unguarded touch takes a little back too- brief flashes of Kyouko's memories. A burning church. A hanging man, wearing a priests's outfit. Food spilled on the floor from an overturned table. But it's only for a moment, and it's hard to get any context from the images, Kyouko herself not appearing in any of them.

    The healing seems to help somewhat, though, because she starts to come around.. at least partially. Her eyelids flutter, opening to slits, though her red eyes appear glazed as she peers up at Mamoru. She lets out a low groan, raising one hand weakly to try and push him away, though it's clear she doesn't recognize him at the moment. She has something clutched in her hand- it's her soul gem. The red bauble is swirling distressingly, though it's less black than one might fear- about equal parts red and black swirling under the fancy gold frame. The more distressing part is the very visible crack through the gem itself- although Mamoru probably does not realize the significance of this. Or does he? Depends on how much Homura has told him.

He doesn't flinch away, though it's been long enough since the last time -- Madoka -- that he wasn't expecting it. No: Mamoru keeps his hands in contact with Kyouko, even when she tries to push him away, not recognizing him. He drops his henshin.

It's Mamoru shoving past the confusing images from Kyouko's head, struggling to rebuild his walls to keep her memories where they belong and his own from leaking into her; it's Mamoru insistently keeping her stable with his power, one of the only things he can really count on; it's Mamoru's eyes lighting on that cracked and sick-looking soul gem--

"It wouldn't be incorrect to refer to us as liches, due to how our powers work. The Soul Gem is our phylactery."

--the upperclassman, getting Kyouko's blood on his shirt as he firmly gathers her up and stands, has no idea what cracks mean, even if he knows what the swirling black is. It can't be good. "Kyou-chan, it's Mamoru. I'm getting you out of here. Do you have any grief seeds?"

Homura walks up to Basu and looks over the bloodied body. She checks the Soul Gem first. It's intact, but the blue jewel is turning further black. "Haka-san, the Grief Seed."

Masako hands Homura the Grief Seed, and Homura holds it close to the Soul Gem, soaking in the growing darkness. Her breathing, previously stopped, seems to have started again.

"If you don't, it's okay, I'll make some calls-- but given the givens--" He's looking at her face, trying to get her to look at him, focus on him at all; he starts pushing peace and calm toward her along with the energy, the feeling of solidity, of safety. His voice is steady and no-nonsense, holding the businesslike authority that EMS personnel and crisis handlers default to. "--it would be easier all around if you had your own."

No, he doesn't expect her to follow what he's saying. She's bleeding from where Hannah was bleeding at the top of the hospital, and the flavor of the magic... Kyouko did, he suspects, something very stupid. Regardless of whether or not she answers him, or even can, he pulls his henshin on again, makes sure her arm's held between her and himself so she doesn't drop the damned thing, and leaps into the night sky.

    Kyouko isn't really 'there' enough to answers Mamoru's questions even as he talks to her, but the sound of his voice, which she does seem to recognize on some level even if it isn't quite consciously, does seem to calm her somewhat and she stops trying to push him away. She does actually have a Grief Seed- it's the one Homura gave her a while ago, and it's in her pocket. But unless Mamoru goes patting her down, he won't find it, because she isn't in any position to tell him about it.

    At least her Soul Gem, crack notwithstanding, is not all that black. If Mamoru knows anything about it at all, it's obvious she's not on the edge of Witching or anything like that, although cleansing her Soul Gem might help heal whatever's wrong with her. Maybe. It certainly couldn't hurt.

    As he henshins and leaps off into the sky, carrying her, Kyouko starts to mumble. "..yaka. Sayaka." She murmurs.. "Raspberry-chan." She shifts in Tuxedo Kamen's arms, her eyelids fluttering. "Where.. where is she?"

He doesn't know about witching-- all he knows is that if they go black, the Puella dies, and grief seeds help heal what's physically wrong with them. But it's clear Kyouko's not currently in any shape to talk sense, and as much as Iris' clinic can help regular magical people, he's not sure how her Device would interpret a lich, as it were.

So, rooftop to rooftop, the boy in the cape carrying the delirious and injured punk-ass bratty charmer gets closer and closer to his own apartment. He knows if worst comes to worst, Homura won't kill Kyouko, even if Kyouko might rupture something vital if she sees the other girl.

"I don't know where she is," he answers truthfully, "who is she? Is she a Puella Magi?" Not one question at a time, but close to it: one idea at a time. He can work up to 'how do I get in touch with her' next.