Entry directly added by Thoriane after the Phoenix Incident.
Content Warning: Implied Abuse
I've done some unsavory things.
By unsavory, I mean things that leave a truly acidic taste in my mouth. Unappetizing. Bitter. I don't like thinking about it. What's done is done, though. I used to be glad it was the apocalypse so I wouldn't have to be the same version of myself that fucked up so badly.
We all know each other fairly well among the Guardians. Not the Phoenix. He woke up one day in a fully established position that didn't exist before to our knowledge, with dossiers on all of us. Maybe we weren't supposed to remember whoever came before him. No one spoke to him - we all had our own business. Anareizh dealing with mortals and trying to facilitate the safe return of Malaicacynne to the waking world. Lucida, again, dealing with mortals. Me? Honey, don't fear the reaper. Or do. It's your life.
The Phoenix reached out to me and we fought. I resisted. I know a terrible business arrangement when I see one, but my job is more than a job, it's my reason for existing. It's not so easy to just turn down a contract. So, I worked the job, and as I worked, my mind foolishly wandered, and I wondered why he was alone - out of pity and out of suspicion.
I resorted to charm when any instinct would tell me to turn tail.
I know too much now, parts of him I don't want to remember. Parts of me I don't want to admit opened up to him.
I used to be glad it was the apocalypse.