Well, not literally. This precise event never really happened. It's more of a projection. A memory.
Hell, I -might- have retconned my tits bigger a time or two.
But this is more or less what I was like before I became the fox goddess you know and mandatorily love today.
So what changed?
Well, that's a secret.
The real beginning of this story?
Excuse it how you will. Say that it wouldn't make sense to you; chaos too absolute, like the first seconds of a universe forming. Say that it's more dramatic this way, that the best monsters never really get explained. Say that the excuse never lives up to the end point.
I will simply say that the real beginning is mine alone.
So sure, it might as well be this. A glowing briefcase on loan from Tarantino that could contain anything.
All that matters is that I wanted it.
The beginning I'm going to share, however?
That's a longer story.
I just figured I'd let you know what we're all in for.
