Every memory Rowena recovered brought with it far more questions than it answered. For every step that she took towards rediscovering herself, she took another two backwards. The harder she tried to pry into her own history, the foggier it all seemed to get. Just how much was she missing? It seemed easier to list what she [i]did[/i] know about herself than what she didn't. Her full name was Rowena Lily Solise. She was twenty-five years old. Judging from her driver's license, she'd lived in Tennessee at some point or another. She currently resided in a one bedroom apartment in the Lower East Side. 

Figuring out where she lived was a feat in itself. Most of what she knew that she hadn't been able to figure out from her wallet, she found there. Despite being cramped and in a less-than-ideal space, the apartment was kept meticulously clean. There was an impersonal feel about the place that made Rowena feel even more lost than before, but some snooping in a desk drawer helped her find old paychecks that revealed where she worked; a flower shop in Midtown, and a bar in Hell's Kitchen.

These discoveries had been made a few days before. Through trial and error she figured out which of the dozen or so contacts in her phone were coworkers, and from them she figured out when she was supposed to work and, since then, she'd picked up about where she figured she left off. Coworkers at both jobs seemed suspicious of her somewhat odd behavior, but so far, no one had mentioned it.

Rowena stepped out of the bar and into the chilly winter night. She wore a thick grey coat, but the cold still got to her. She didn't have a high tolerance for lower temperatures, it seemed. Perhaps a sign that she'd grown up in the south? It would make sense, what with her Tennessee license. Those memories, of hazy summer days and laughing and running through wooded pastures with other children would make sense there, wouldn't they? But, what would bring her to New York City? 

"Ugh," she groaned under her breath, burrowing her hands deeper into her coat pockets. This was all so frustrating. There were no contacts in her phone with the same last name as her. She had no Facebook. The only memories that she figured could be family were happy ones; so why would she have cut off all contact with them in the first place? The only thing she could remember clearly was the fact that she was a mutant.

Using the plants and soil in her apartment, she tested her abilities. With how unfamiliar most things seemed, they came with a shocking familiarity. Images of herself using her powers flooded in from her memory. It was one of few things that was most definitely, assuredly right in this whole mess. They were why she felt comfortable walking through that area, alone, at such a late hour. Her mind was too absorbed in trying to solve the puzzle that was currently her life for her to really watch where she was going. That was why she accidentally brushed against one of the few other souls on the sidewalk that night. 

"Sorry," she went to say over her shoulder. In doing so, she saw the man in earnest, and her eyes widened with a sort of recognition. This man, she definitely knew him. Her brows furrowed. "You," she murmured, more to herself than to him. He was dangerous. Just the sight of him sent adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her mind raced. In her pockets, her hands curled to fists. She had no idea who he was, but the feeling that she had to stop him from... [i]Whatever[/i] it was that he was doing was almost overwhelming.