That is because it isn't from your century. Or your milennia, judging from your attire.

[He followed the rude passerby with his eyes before looking back to the petite woman he's speaking with. Humans never change.] Nor is yours. Freyja, Norse goddess of fertility, sex, beauty, gold, war, and death.

[The faintest of smiles touches the corner of his mouth and he tilts his head to the side slightly.] I would broker a trade. You show me yours, and perhaps I'll show you mine.