Your name is Eridan Peixes and you're scared of all things Tyrian, jade, and ochre. You don't want to face them, because you don't want to remember your rage, when you took your weapon and held it in front of them, blasting holes into their bodies and slamming their head hard enough to a metal wall, and they couldn't see anymore. You're sorry. Your sister says they've forgiven you. But you haven't forgiven yourself.