This is written entirely in 2nd person POV. Proceed if you want.

You're born with words marking your skin in black ink, which is not usual. Most people have to wait a few years until your soulmate knows how to read for the writing to become visible, if that happens - but the words on your skin, clear as day, say your own name, leaving off a question to be answered. Your parents questioned what could have brought your own name to be your soulmate's last words to you, but you - you don't know, too, and part of you…

Part of you wonders why. What could have been the cause of such a thing? It's not normal - there's a hint of sadness, of confusion, hidden between the pretty calligraphy, and you wonder what you could have done to your soulmate. Did you abandon however they were? If so - why?

When the war starts to eclode (it starts years before books will say it starts; Europe starts to gear up for a fight before anyone can say it has begun.) you wonder if this will be it. When the war explodes, in fact (one shot, and death haunts Europe), you know that you will die during it. Only war could bring such words, right? On the upside, you figure, at least you will meet your soulmate before the end. Last words always happen, and humanity had several lifetimes to prove it.

When you notice, though, you aren't dead yet and the war is coming to a close - you just need to give Dr. Poison's book to the general, and - and it'll be done, and your soulmate will be a mystery until you die off… Probably something not war-related. Something stupid. Something utterly, utterly mundane. Just like you.

Of course, it's right then when you crash into the ocean and an angel comes to save you. Perhaps a mermaid, if the way she swims is any indication, and she saves your life. You look into her eyes - brown and soft and oh god she's the most beautiful creature you've ever seen - and.

And then everything goes to hell, of course. It's war, what else is expected? The women of this island (which seems to have only women) fight and defend themselves, but what is a spear and leather compared to a bullet? They do kill the German soldiers that are after the notebook you stole, but their losses are extraordinary. The one that saved you, with words sprawling on her arm you hadn't had an opportunity to read yet, seems to mourn the woman that saved her the most.

After this, they turn to you and interrogate you. At first, you know you won't break. At second, you're spilling everything you know because their glowing rope burns. The lasso of Hestia, the one that saved you calls it, compels you to tell the truth, and tell the truth you do.

At least it gives you a shot of seeing the angel's words - I love you, in a familiar, familiar scrawl. Why, of course you'd recognize it - it's yours. It's weird, seeing your own letters tattooed in a stranger's skin, but you figure it must feel like this to everyone else.

Well, perhaps not exactly, considering you were being interrogated by a queen moments before being thrown in a doctor's office, but still. The doctor watches you with curiosity in her eyes, and the first thing she notices, while dressing your wounds (superficial as they are), is the writing, sprawled in your back.

"Huh,", is all she says, and you make an inquisitive noise. "Good to know."

"What?", you ask, curiosity hitting you like a bullet.

"You have these words, as well,", the doctor says. She seems friendly. That's good, you suppose. "No one else has. Except for Diana, but we do not know why."

"Huh,", you answer, and she nods, quiet. You wonder. If no one else has, then why does… "Diana is the one who saved my life?"

She nods once more.

"Oh yes. Wonderful girl,", the doctor hums, and slaps your back lightly. "Alright, you're good to go. There's a bath I think you would appreciate. It'll help you heal, if you do bathe on it."

You're not dumb - this island had a lasso that forced you to tell the truth; if they say there's a magical bath, you are going to bath on it.

That's how Diana finds you, actually. Your sole luck is that… No, scratch that. There's no sole luck in this setting. You do try to sound good in this setting, but there's - there's no way.

"What's that?", she asks, curiosity shining in her voice, and it takes you what seems like an entire minute to take your damn mind out of the gutter, noticing her eyes are on the watch. Of course. Of course.

"It's a… It's a watch,", you reply, carefully, because you almost went there. You're almost sure that, had you said what your mind wanted to say, the ladies from before would rain over your head from every hole in the room, somehow, and kill you. You wouldn't be surprised.

You talk with her, carefully moving yourself - you don't need to be smart to know she will recognize her own letters on your skin - so that your back doesn't show to her. She's smart - it shows in her dark eyes. Diana will figure it out, eventually. You just hope she doesn't figure out you're the one. If you're the one. You're getting ahead of yourself.

You ask her some questions, try and get information on where you are, what she is. Thanking her comes easy, and she's genuine in every question. Falling in love was never so easy.

She's not here to let you go, but something you say makes her eyes shine, leaving. You look in the direction she went, and nod to yourself. Yeah, okay. You open your map, pick up your bussole from your jacket's pocket, and you know you're in for a long, long night when the pointer starts spinning wildly.

You know you're in for a longer night when she returns, dressed like she's some classical figure from Rome or Greece, sword in hand, a goddess of battle with no battle.

"Nice outfit,", you manage to say. She seems exhausted, but not physically.

"Thank you,", she says, and - is that sarcasm in her voice? - looks at you. "Now, I'll show you the way off the island, and you'll take me to Ares."

Okay, okay. This you can deal with.

"Deal."