Ginia finishes his sentence and finds herself at a loss at where to begin. Where is the beginning when all her memories begin in media res? When she can infer the context around things but can't confirm or press too much?
It was easier with Tsubasa and Chris. They understand the ways humans can be and what they can do, from personal or broader experiences. They're human. They fight as a part of their daily life. But maybe they're all excuses.
Ebisu's being as a god first and foremost has never bothered her, but now she falters.
"I mentioned once I remembered my birthday." The signs are halting as she grasps at the threads of her lives and tries to knot them together. "It was more than that. It was a few hours of memories, roughly a day. Faces, names. I share a birthday with eight others. January first. We're named alphabetically."
It's as suspect as it sounds. Ginia has always considered it so.
"My more recent memory is longer. About a week long. Some of the same people are in the memory, though we're older." How much, she isn't sure. Time is a fickle thing. Ginia pauses, hands balling as her words creep closer to a truth she hasn't wanted to face or admit to.
"We were tasked with assassinating someone." Ginia smiles, but it falters. "I suppose in hindsight it's obvious what I did in life. I came with a very specific set of skills and little else."
no subject
Ginia finishes his sentence and finds herself at a loss at where to begin. Where is the beginning when all her memories begin in media res? When she can infer the context around things but can't confirm or press too much?
It was easier with Tsubasa and Chris. They understand the ways humans can be and what they can do, from personal or broader experiences. They're human. They fight as a part of their daily life. But maybe they're all excuses.
Ebisu's being as a god first and foremost has never bothered her, but now she falters.
"I mentioned once I remembered my birthday." The signs are halting as she grasps at the threads of her lives and tries to knot them together. "It was more than that. It was a few hours of memories, roughly a day. Faces, names. I share a birthday with eight others. January first. We're named alphabetically."
It's as suspect as it sounds. Ginia has always considered it so.
"My more recent memory is longer. About a week long. Some of the same people are in the memory, though we're older." How much, she isn't sure. Time is a fickle thing. Ginia pauses, hands balling as her words creep closer to a truth she hasn't wanted to face or admit to.
"We were tasked with assassinating someone." Ginia smiles, but it falters. "I suppose in hindsight it's obvious what I did in life. I came with a very specific set of skills and little else."