I know I shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but I couldn't help doing so when I saw Pollux for the first time. Why did %s have to invite someone so menacing and who is such a pain to deal with onto the Colossus? She looked like she was going to pull her pistols out and start shooting at any moment!
Just when I was thinking about how I was gonna greet her, several children emerged from behind her, and she, in a voice as light as the spring breeze, told them to slow down and watch where they were going.
I was wrong, and I was ashamed of my first impression of her, but then a terrifyingly cold voice pulled me back to reality. Pollux had started lecturing a certain crocodile that had been smoking in the room. And said crocodile actually surrendered to her! He promised to never do anything like that in front of her ever again! Does she know how long it took me to get everyone to follow the rules of the Colossus?
I see how it is. I guess I'm still one black suit and one pair of high heels away from being a competent manager.
- Vice

I read your postcard. Yes, the one with an image of Euphoria on it, with the really tall church standing in a sea of unique houses... This is easily mistaken for some resort town, because we all forgot that Euphoria looked like this once. All the roads led to Euphoria at some point in time, with streets full of carriages and pedestrians. Maybe my memory is a little off, but I don't recall Euphoria being so foggy back then. When you think about it, I didn't have a chance to appreciate Euphoria because I never got to enjoy its prosperity. Soft breads, star-studded performances, and beautiful jewelry... they were for the rich and powerful only. The chains and the sticks beneath the surface were the real Euphoria. A fact that still persists today.

I have to admit that I'm not nice to the children at the church all the time. Maybe I'm being meddlesome or controlling. I can't deny that. I just don't want to see them making the same mistakes I did. It's not that I regret making those choices during the first half of my life, but sometimes when I look into Euphoria's endless rain and fog, I think about what might've happened if someone had told me that going to Euphoria was not the best idea.
But I had no parents or any good friends. Being tricked into joining an underground mercenary group was probably one of the better things that could've happened to me. At least they fed me as long as I did what the adults wanted me to do.

Why did I take these children in and take care of them? Some actually thought that I was training them to expand Raven's Blood, and I... felt very sad for them. There are only two members of Raven's Blood, and that's Casta and me, and I'm not planning on expanding. If I have to come up with a reason for taking care of these children... It's my duty, I suppose. Does that sound arrogant?
I was found by a nun from the church after being thrown out by the mercenaries. But she never returned from trying to save more children. Someone had to carry on her work, right? As someone who's seen it all, I know for sure that Euphoria isn't a great place for innocent children.
Raven's Blood will do the dirty work, so that they can remain innocent.

Why am I surprised by how much you trust your companions? Maybe I've lived in the shadows for too long, and I've become part of them myself. For a long time, I told Casta to not trust anyone, especially me. After all, I did put a knife through the chest of a dear friend in the underground arena. I often dream of bloodstained hands, and wake up in a cold sweat. And usually as I sit up in bed, telling myself I'll never be forgiven, Casta shows up to hand me a glass of water, full of trust. Maybe you're right, though. Maybe I lied, because as a member of Raven's Blood, I trust Casta very much.
Thank you, %s, for helping me understand this.