Welcome to Gaia! ::

There were days when Fiona resented her position as a watcher and sponsor. Days where she missed engaging in combat against the chaos-aligned crazies that had overrun her city but, since her face had been scarred nearly a year ago, the fire within her had dulled. There was no longer enough passion within her to power her through a battle. She was no longer as feisty as she’d once been.

She had long since grown war weary.

There were also days, more than she could count really, where she wished that she had not opened her home to anyone order-aligned because it meant that, more often than not, that ghosts from her past flitted through her doors. Proustite was one of those ghosts, though he had no recollection of their long standing entanglements and, really, the ginger wasn’t keen on bringing any of them up.

Some things were better left unsaid.

That being said, the atmosphere in her house was uncomfortable to say the least despite the fact that the man had been living with her since his purification and appeared to be staying permanently.

“Have you figured out what you’re going to do with yourself yet?” She asked, peering at him from over the top of the book she was reading. She’d curled up on the sofa and had been watching him since he entered the room. “I mean,” she paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Do you have any ideas about who the person you want to present to the city is going to be? I’m supposed to help you, but we haven’t accomplished much of anything.”

Really, she sorta wanted him out of her house. (Not that she’s openly admit that, but he made her uncomfortable.)

What do you think I should do?

She sighed when he asked her that, slipping her bookmark in the pages and shutting it. She set it down on her lap and folded her hands over it. "I don't know Aaron," she admitted. "I don't really know why you left and no one really has any answers. I think you need to figure out what part you want to play in this war." Watcher, sponsor, mainstay, or shadow. "Do you want to fight back? Do you want to look for allies or people who wish to repent?"

She lifted a hand to rub her temples and, out of habit, her fingers ran down the scar stretching from her eye to her chin. Then her fingers travelled across her neck to the claw scars marking her neck.

Chaos had a cruel hold on most.

"Do you want to be someone who goes around playing nice, tangoing with the enemy as a means to get money, information, for the resistance?" These were all questions she asked herself two years ago when her fire had started to dwindle.

"I know you think I'm being naggy," she said. And she knew she was, besides General-King Labyrinthite, he was the biggest ghost from her past. "But I'm trying to help and I don't know how to. Most people have some memories when they switch. You don't." She didn't know if that made her more tense or less tense.