[She says it simply and quietly, and finds herself wishing she had something much stronger in her coffee mug now.
At least someone is here now that knows her. She knows they haven't all been so lucky. She considers telling him what else she knows, about how some have come and gone from other worlds after being drawn from their homes and before winding up here, but in a rare moment of restraint she realizes those aren't her stories to tell. What little she knew she'd either been told in confidence or didn't quite trust herself to recount properly.
No... best to leave it to them to tell it. Let Ardbert speak to the others for himself. Besides, after a century of wandering alone it would probably do him quite a bit of good to be able to speak to someone other than her, and that thought was enough to chase off any lingering frustration or hurt.
She elaborates with a gesture of her hand, tail moving to and fro with her restlessness.]
So far as we've been able to tell we all come from some sort of... alternate realities, as if the source and its reflections have been duplicated several times over. Each copy seems to have its own Warrior of Light, but it seems everyone else is more or less the same, save for their memories of-- ah--
[With a soft huff Ziva shut her eyes and shook her head, bringing her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose.]
--"us"? The warriors? This is too damned much for me. It's all a damn mess, and still not our main concern, besides. More a point of curiosity, to be truthful.
no subject
[She says it simply and quietly, and finds herself wishing she had something much stronger in her coffee mug now.
At least someone is here now that knows her. She knows they haven't all been so lucky. She considers telling him what else she knows, about how some have come and gone from other worlds after being drawn from their homes and before winding up here, but in a rare moment of restraint she realizes those aren't her stories to tell. What little she knew she'd either been told in confidence or didn't quite trust herself to recount properly.
No... best to leave it to them to tell it. Let Ardbert speak to the others for himself. Besides, after a century of wandering alone it would probably do him quite a bit of good to be able to speak to someone other than her, and that thought was enough to chase off any lingering frustration or hurt.
She elaborates with a gesture of her hand, tail moving to and fro with her restlessness.]
So far as we've been able to tell we all come from some sort of... alternate realities, as if the source and its reflections have been duplicated several times over. Each copy seems to have its own Warrior of Light, but it seems everyone else is more or less the same, save for their memories of-- ah--
[With a soft huff Ziva shut her eyes and shook her head, bringing her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose.]
--"us"? The warriors? This is too damned much for me. It's all a damn mess, and still not our main concern, besides. More a point of curiosity, to be truthful.