cashing in my bad luck

With her soft, careful gaze, Gin takes him in at a close range. The moonlight was strong tonight, and she's more than used to it. Meeting him here was a strange twist of fate, but maybe she'd been more than ready. Maybe she had been for a long time. There was no need to stagnate, not anymore. They could do, and they could be, and they could be themselves. Though she's collected cultures, stories, pasts, maybe it was time for the ghost to return to her own. Maybe it was long past time to return to her own. Carefully, she regarded this man, who stood with his horns and watched as she did.

Hattori. Was this Hattori Hanzō? Had he asked for stories of himself? Ah, no matter. Gin would explore those things in time. He asks of her name, and she nods once-- just once. "Gin." She pauses for a heartbeat, feeling the need to elaborate under the weight of his gaze. "Mata Gin." But still, just Gin is all she's used to hearing. All she's used to saying, at least now. Though disquieted by the company of strangers, something about him doesn't feel so strange. There's comfort in identity, in culture. There's comfort here.

Speech