>>6245917
“Shira Yosef…”

You say aloud the name which has been rolling around in your head. You aren’t sure WHY, though. ‘Shira’ from ‘shirin’, because that’s what got you feeling this way? And ‘Yosef’… Well, you guess you sort of ARE a ‘Yosef’, but the name—and the human lineage—never really meant much to you before. But Ayla… Well, she’s a Yosef, too, right? And ZZ, she used the clout associated with that dusty old demonym to get in good with Jimmy Efron’s hoity-toity folks.

It’s a name with WEIGHT. A name that MATTERS. A name that belongs to someone IMPORTANT, not a monster.

You grin, and repeat it: “Yosssefff~”

But ‘Shira’? That feels… Weird. Like you’d be completely abandoning your other origins… Your other half. Zith-Zi and Cara-Zi, the Zi Sisters—that’s you, too! But with your beigey-pink skin, and nice Easterling attire, and your hot hobbit boytoy, well…

“Carazzi Yosef?”

You let it roll off the tongue, letting the syllables hang in the air and fog the mirror. That’s how Tips—and Veigar by extension—always mispronounce your name. They don’t speak Goblang, don’t get the tones. But said like that, with their Northwestern accent and emphasis? It almost turns your gob-given name sing-song in the same was as that of Costella Fanucci, Tips’ wife.

“Carazzi Yosef…”

Your reflection’s smile spreads.

“Carazzi Yosef!”