IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!

[nopunchline]

Who: Anyone, everyone? Aoba and Declan to start.
What: Destiny
When: After the House of Wolves, before The Taken King.
Where: Earth, The Last City, The Tower and beyond.
Warnings: Could be sorta zombie stuff (Hive), could be xenophilia? I dunno. Gen warnings, yo.

---

Earth. 700 years into the future, humanity is all but gone, huddled in a massive city in the mountains, surrounded by gargantuan walls and living in the shadow of the slumbering, perhaps dead, body of The Traveler. The massive being of benevolence and light that came to Earth bearing gifts of knowledge that would bring about the longest Golden Age in Terran history, hovering in geostationary orbit over The Last City of men, protecting what is left from The Darkness beyond with the remains of it's Light.

For those on Earth it is a well-known story. With The Traveler's dying breath it created Ghosts, fragments of living Light that in turn resurrected men and women across the galaxy, bringing to bear the Guardians, warriors to fight the Darkness. Earth and all the nearby planets are populated by humans, the Awoken, Exos and a variety of species of ever more distant origins, some less generous than others. The Guardians make their headquarters in a colossal spire at the edge of The Last City. There, in the Tower, the Vanguard and other factions of humanity work together to hold the line and fight the Darkness and every other threat to the known universe. The little understood Guardians rarely venture beyond the Tower, preferring the company of their brothers and sisters in arms, but all look to the Tower as a beacon of hope.

There is danger and adventure to be had; the likelihood of death and the possibility of rebirth. The future is uncertain, but all who walk in the Light know the Darkness is coming, and the wise life to the fullest.

[ Destiny Wiki ]

Comments

[scrappyblue]

It was as easy as just…dumping a box of photographs out onto a table, spreading them out with his hand to see them all. No prying, and barely any digging. Declan was answering him all while Desire was thumbing through his thoughts as simply as Granny would a box of collected recipe cards. Desire’s power was there in it, but there was nothing to force when everything gave way and showed itself so easily. No dark, repressed desires. Barely any secrets he was keeping for himself. Nothing for Desire to sink his fingers in and drag out into the light to crush and break him with. What a weird guy! In all his years of flaying people’s minds down to their blackest cores, he had never, ever met someone so…wholesome. “…You’re so pure I think I’m getting cavities just listening to you,” Desire remarked, his grin pulled sideways. It wasn’t even all that much of an insult, really. The big guy was honest, and really, Desire was very much a fan of people that knew exactly what they wanted. Declan’s problem more seemed to be a lack of really understanding than lying to himself and denying it. Desire wasn’t about to call it anything as fluffy as love, but he saw nothing wrong with someone thinking Aoba was important, especially since Desire himself didn’t appear to be getting ruled out of this equation! …Ren was growling. A low, little sound in his dog throat as he stood a ways behind the couch, ears turned back and eyes narrowed. Desire broke his eyes away from Declan’s enough for a sideways lean and peer past his shoulder, just to scoff at the Allmate. Still all buried away in there, huh? Now there was someone in need of being dragged out in the open, but at the same time, Desire wasn’t in a mood to be bothered. What he did was lean forward, wrapping his arms around Declan’s neck in a deliberate, almost exaggerated embrace. Aoba might have been clothed in full still, but Desire was sure the Guardian had more than enough bare skin to appreciate the contact. Though one hand lightly scratched through the fine hairs of Declan’s nape, it was Ren that Desire shot a smug, dry stare from over the loop of his arms. “Buzz off, mutt,” he said, sounding not the least bit Aoba-like.

[nopunchline]

"I'm not sure what purity has to do with cavities," Declan murmured, tilting his head a bit into the touch without intention. For someone that professed to not like being touched, he didn't seem to mind that much at all. Then the man was up against him and the Titan froze after a sharp inhale, the muscles in his neck tensing briefly. He almost missed the strange exchange between Aoba and Ren. Almost.

"Is everything alright, Ren?" the Guardian asked, both arms looped around the man against him then, reflexive. His grip slackened a fraction when he heard his friend's words, generous lips curving into a frown.

"Are you two...fighting or something?" he asked, Ghost drifting over slowly, blue eyes flicking between the odd tableau Aoba and Declan created and the Allmate. More perceptive of minutiae than his companion Titan, the Ghost ran a quick scan of Aoba and compared it to previous scans, noting the subtle differences, but keeping silent for the moment. Ghosts were equipped with full personal intelligence, able to disobey commands, lie, withhold things. He wanted to confirm things for himself before weighing in, and Declan seemed to be alright with or without his interference. It was important to him that his Guardian grow on his own, and this bizarre turn of events since Aoba's arrival was doing good things.

Didn't mean he couldn't be cautious.

[scrappyblue]

Desire scoffed a little laugh, lounging on Declan like he belonged there—was entitled to it, even. His fingers kept dragging up and down, back and forth. “We’ve been fighting as long as we’ve known each other, not that he really remembers it right now.” “I cannot identify what has happened to Aoba,” Ren himself was saying, dark eyes flicking up towards Ghost as if he thought the other construct might be able to support him somehow. “His brainwave patterns are highly abnormal. It’s hard to explain my analysis but—he should not be allowed to remain in this state. Declan, I would strongly recommend you get his medicine from the bathroom counter.” “Oh, come on, who needs that? Big guy doesn’t seem to mind me at all.” Desire drawled, giving his hips a provocative little shift against Declan’s thigh, half drag and half grind. Neither Allmate nor construct struck him as particularly threatening, not to mention that the idea of getting medicated itself wasn’t as much of a threat anymore, either. “I’m just giving him more of what he wants~”

[nopunchline]

"Oh."

Just like that, it all made sense. Something was 'wrong' with Aoba. Why else would he be so casual and even...even intimate with Declan? How long had he been having a problem? Was the discussion of friendship only a result of this shift in personalty? Pale eyes shifted away slowly, one of Declan's hands sliding away from Aoba's waist to reach up and clasp the hand scraping at his nape, gently pulling it away.

"Please stop," he sighed softly, looking back to the other man, expression hurt, though he was doing a good job of veiling it. Not too hard when the greater emotion was genuine concern.

"I don't...I don't mind, but it isn't right. If you're not well, or just...not yourself, completely, then this isn't appropriate. I don't want that. Taking advantage of people...that isn't good," he almost scolded, though he was saying it as much to himself as to Aoba. To his mind, what Ren was saying was akin to the time Mac got raging drunk somehow, and proceeded to spill all of his woes to a very distressed and helpless Declan who had to thoroughly pummel a man and firmly redirect a woman, both of whom tried to take advantage of the sobbing Guardian throwing himself at anyone willing to lend an ear. Maybe not the same, but the best similar situation he could equate it too in his limited life experience.

"I don't want to force him to do something, Ren. It's not hurting him or anyone else, is it? Are you?" he asked, looking up apologetically, not meaning to talk about Aoba as though he weren't there. It was his body, after all.

"Should you rest? Do you want me to get your medicine?" Best to try a gentler approach for the moment. He was willing to talk, at least.

[scrappyblue]

Well, so much for Desire’s good humor. Sadly, he was physically no match for Declan’s strength even when gently used, so he found his hand pulled away. He sat up in turn as well, mostly so that he could turn a slightly sour look upon the Guardian in exchange for his concern. “Like hell I do,” he snorted. “It’s better to me than the shit the old woman had ‘Aoba’ take, but no, I don’t.” Desire sighed then, gaze going sideways as he twisted his hand in Declan’s grip, experimentally. “I’m better than I’ve ever been, and I’m every bit ‘me’ that I’ve always been. And here I was, thinking you and I were going to get along just fine. I could hurt you,” he added at the last, golden eyes snapping back to Declan’s. “Should we find out?” He shifted his tone, then. Hard to say if he really was of a mood to hurt anyone right now, but if he could read the Titan like he just had, then he could make him obey, too. Just enough to make a point. “Let go of me.”

[nopunchline]

With or without powers, Declan would have obeyed, not holding on too strongly in the first place. Big and brute though he looked, he was as careful as physically possible with the other man. When Desire shifted, the Guardian was already letting go. He just hurried it up when the man demanded it of him.

"I don't...understand why we couldn't still." get along, he meant, though he was waving on the edge of uncertainty and a throbbing migraine, staring wide-eyed into Desire's gaze. If the man pried again, he'd find Declan just as sincere as before. Hurt, sure, but he didn't like Aoba, or whomever, any less for this circumstance. It was just a facet of the man he hadn't known about or understood. Something he was obligated to try understanding, if he was going to call himself a friend. Even if Aoba may not have meant it, Declan had. And friends weathered the storms, right?

Ghost's blue eye narrowed and shifted, the construct silent, hovering, watching. Something about this Aoba wasn't the same, and it wasn't just his temper. When the man spoke, Declan's own brain patterns had some sort of tremor, and Ghost worried that if he wasn't acting as part of the Guardian's life support, it may have been different. Worse? He didn't know what it was, but he'd ask Ren when things resolved. For now...

"What are you?" Ghost demanded, zooming between Declan and Aoba, the spikes of his shell spinning, big eye filling the blue-haired man's vision. "And what are you trying to do? Hm?" he followed, only getting out of the way because Declan gently pushed him with one hand, the other rubbing a finger against one vaguely ringing ear. The Ghost turned, looking at the Titan thoughtfully. Declan, for his part, was starting to look sulky. Things were spiraling, and the Guardian's mood with it. He didn't feel very good at all.

[scrappyblue]

Declan released him and Desire pushed away from him to stand, dismissive but also without any particular malice. This was the same moment wherein Ghost zipped in between them, only to be pushed aside, earning a scoff from the entity currently in control of Aoba’s body as he moved towards the apartment window. Even his body language was different from that of the Aoba they knew, a kind of reckless confidence that would have put him right at home among all those barflies looking to pick meaningless fights. Ren paced around the side of the couch so as to continue keeping a physical eye on him, but stayed closer to Declan than his wayward ‘owner’. He didn’t understand why Aoba was acting this way, but something niggled at him in a very uncomfortable fashion. Still being entirely in the belief that he was an Allmate, Ren didn’t know how to properly identify feelings of déjà vu. “I’m what every human has deep inside of them,” Desire answered with a flippant wave of his hand, back still turned on all of them. “That voice that tells you what you really want, even if society would say you can’t have it? That’s me.” Into his pockets his hands went, posture slouched as he finally turned enough to regard the lot of them. “I’m just being who I am, now that ‘Aoba’ doesn’t have any more of Granny’s medicines to keep me buried.”

[nopunchline]

"So you're Aoba?" Declan asked, simplifying it for himself. If it was just something inside a person, it was still that person. Like...

"...Like me...when I'm angry..."he murmured, voice quiet, withdrawn. Ghost turned, looking at the Guardian for a moment, then glancing to Ren, then...not...Aoba. Suppressed emotions, maybe? the result of trauma? Declan was a very, very good man, but his anger was always pushed back and put away, so when it came out, the results were often catastrophic. Fortunately he could let that stress out on enemies in the field, but suppressed desires were a whole other monster. He really should have stored more psychology books in his memory banks...anger management was all he'd kept. Dratted.

"Is it alright to ask...why someone would lock you away? I know wanting things can lead to bad things, sometimes. But wanting things in general isn't harmful. Everyone wants something." The Titan, practical and simple to a fault.

[scrappyblue]

Desire cocked an eyebrow, turning the rest of the way around when he was addressed with Aoba’s name. It had been years since he’d been strongly a part of the dominant personality, when ‘Aoba’ had actually listened to him, but it was still his name too. He did not mind being called that way again. More amusement from him at the Guardian’s observation, a low chuckle that the Aoba they knew wouldn’t have been capable of. “Everyone does,” he agreed. “But I’m even more than that. You can feel it for yourself. That pain in your head, right?” He lifted a hand, tapping his own temple. A needless gesture, probably, but it was hard not to be a little showy. He was in control of the body, and someone was listening to him. “That’s me. I can make your mind do whatever I want it to. ‘Aoba’ hurt a lot of people that way. Some of them were completely destroyed when we were done.” A shrug, remorseless. “It won’t do you any good to ask him, though. He doesn’t remember me. And obviously he doesn’t either.” A flick of gesture towards Ren.

[nopunchline]

"I'm sorry no one remembers you. People...shouldn't have to tear themselves apart to be at peace with themselves," Declan replied, rubbing at his other ear even as Ghost gave him a surprisingly dry look for a floating eyeball. Silent accusation that the Titan should heed his own words.

"Please don't make me do things," the Guardian added after a moment, looking up with a quizzical expression. "When you force something...it loses it's meaning and sincerity. I won't be dishonest with you, or force you to do anything either." Huffing a soft sigh, he pushed himself up from the couch, looking towards his room ( their room, though now he's not sure what to do ), then the kitchen.

"Are you hungry? Um...either of you, I suppose?" he interrupted his own train of thought, unsure if the separate facets of Aoba worked like people with dissociative disorders, where different personalities might claim different needs and wants. If this was the personification of Aoba's desires, though, it made sense to Declan to ask if he wanted something. Then again, he might be oversimplifying it for himself.

[scrappyblue]

Declan’s attempts may have been clumsy, but they had one thing going for them: they were being made. Those golden eyes of Desire’s studied him, sharp and appraising. “Hah. The only thing I have an appetite for, you’re apparently not in the mood for giving,” he replied, “But don’t worry, I don’t feel like forcing it out of you just like that. You’re already too honest. It wouldn’t be any fun. Right now, I think I’m more interested in seeing what you do with that honesty all on your own.” Desire hmmed to himself then, glancing from Declan down to Ren, then laughingly shrugged to himself and could be heard to mutter why the hell not. He walked away from all of them, through the bedroom and into the bathroom. When he returned in no time at all, he had the needleless injector in hand, freshly loaded up with a dose. “Here. Show of good faith,” he said, striding up to Declan and standing in front of him, hand thrust out with the injector balanced on his palm. “Bring back ‘Aoba’. He’s not as honest as you, but…this won’t be the last you see of me, either.”

[nopunchline]

Watching curiously, puzzling over the statements, Declan quietly let Other Aoba have his idle way about the rooms. Looking between Ren and Ghost, the Guardian shrugged helplessly. He'd debated protesting that he was always willing to help and wanted to know what Other Aoba wanted, but a knowing look and vague 'headshake' from Ghost stopped him.

When Desire came out with the injector, Declan took it, but paused and looked up into those sharp eyes with a small frown.

"Are you sure? I know Ren is worried, and I know...the other Aoba is consistent about his medicine but...if it isn't hurting either of you, I don't want you to feel rushed away. You're the same person. I don't want you gone anymorr than I do him. You're my friend." He ventured, still hurt and unsure about everything but unwilling to drop his end of that bargain.

[scrappyblue]

Declan took the injector and Desire gave his head a toss, getting all the disarray of his ponytail off his shoulders and clearing up access to his neck as he tilted his head to one side. Of course, it wasn’t like he would have cared at all if his hair was in the way and got pulled at as a result—and he was pretty sure Aoba hadn’t even told anyone yet about the sensitivity of his hair—but it was a peace gesture, or something like that. “Get back to me when that’s ‘friend with benefits’,” Desire answered with a grin, eyes raking the Guardian’s exposed body one more time—for the current encounter, anyway. “Now come on, I’m getting impatient. Restraint is his job, not mine,” he added, with a jerk of thumb towards Ren that explained little at all. “And by the way, ‘Aoba’ isn’t going to remember any of this, so be ready for him to be confused as hell. And make sure he keeps that heart thing around. I wasn’t expecting to come forward, but I think it helped. Alright?”

[nopunchline]

As naive as Declan came off, he knew what that phrase meant. Lots of Guardians had that arrangement, and while he had never heard it alongside anything regarding himself, he wasn't completely ignorant. Swallowing audibly and looking a little too lavender, the Titan cleared his throat, raised the injector with a nod in reply to the artifact, and pulled the trigger.

He waited, quiet, full bottom lip pulled between his teeth and worried at as he paid attention for signs of change. Occasionally he looked to the construct companions for any possible advice.

"I'm very confused," he eventually muttered, mostly to himself.

[scrappyblue]

With the injection done so close to the source of Aoba's issues, such as they were, it was a rapid shift. Desire hummed a bit at the sensation, disappointed that it barely hurt at all, but he felt that doorway reinforced and felt complacent enough to slip back through.

Gold dulled back into hazel and Aoba nearly staggered forward into Declan, blinking back into awareness with a delayed but also newly startled, "I'd!"

"Aoba!" Ren exclaimed from the floor, darting over while Aoba came to grips with to fact that he was standing instead of being on the couch, and that his neck stung like his arm did whenever he -- oh, yes, there, that was his injector in Declan's hand.

"Wh... what's going on? Did I pass out??"

That was all he could think of to explain his sudden change in position, but... not why he was standing instead of on his back somewhere.

[nopunchline]

"Um...not exactly," Declan replied, looking guiltily at the gun in his hand before setting it on the coffee table nearby.

"Let's...sit down and talk a minute. Ren, too," Declan sighed, reaching up with one broad hand to rub at his brow wearily. The minor headache still throbbed a bit, but he wasn't as bothered by it as he was by the responsibility he felt towards Aoba and the situation at hand.

[scrappyblue]

At mention of the Allmate, Aoba looked down at him, and Ren in turn put his ears slightly backwards. “…It would be hard for me to explain alone what just happened,” the little dog answered slowly, “But I agree that it needs to be discussed.” “What…?” It was more an expression of bewilderment than a solid question, but glancing between everyone’s faces—Ghost included—was enough to confirm to Aoba that something bizarre had happened. He backed up to the couch and slowly sat down, unsure of what to brace himself for. Ren immediately hopped up onto the couch with him, into his lap and curling up against his stomach. Aoba’s hands immediately found his fur for comfort, while Ren himself gathered his thoughts. Although he’d interjected very little while everything was going on, Aoba felt like his responsibility to him as well. “I am not sure how else to describe it, Aoba, except to say that you appear to have an alternate personality that we were previously unaware of.” “Alternate…personality?” “Yes. One that apparently was kept from manifesting due to the medicines Tae had you take.” “…You mean my headache medicine??” Aoba stared at the injector on the table, at Ren, then up to Declan. “What happened!?”

[nopunchline]

Declan let them have the first moment, walking over and getting two mugs of hot tea from the replicator, taking the fast route. Returning to the couch and sitting gingerly, he pressed one cup gently into Aoba's hand, pale eyes watchful, concerned, but not unkind in any way. Not judging.

"I'm...not articulate enough," Declan sighed with a small frown, apologetic. "There's another part of you that I guess was too much, and your Grandmother gave you medicine to suppress it."

"Precisely that, from what I can extrapolate from what was said," Ghost reaffirmed, drifting halfway across the room then back, then off again, similar to pacing.

"They refer to themselves as a separate entity, almost. A part of yourself shut off so completely that it manifested as it's own consciousness. I don't know if it's reactionary, caused by being blockaded unnaturally, or if it's a defense mechanism due to trauma, or something else entirely. Unfortunately I'm not well-versed enough in Golden Age psychotherapy to offer a more definitive answer, but I'll go through the Guardian archives to see if there's anything."

"Aoba," Declan spoke up before emotions could get too high. "It's okay. Nothing bad happened. It was just different."

[scrappyblue]

Declan had the right of it. Aoba gave a startled little jolt when ‘called’, perhaps not on the verge of a total freak-out, but definitely sitting there with a wideness to his eyes as he struggled to comprehend what he was being told. That injector of his looked so out of place among all the artifacts and souvenirs Declan had brought home for him, he thought in distraction. But he had to admit, there was definitely a weird little gap between sitting on the couch and—finding himself standing, freshly dosed by Declan’s aid.

A separate entity. An alternate personality. Aoba had been taking his medicine ever since the wilder years of him being a teenager, or something like that, but…an alternate personality?? Had Granny really been aware of that, or had she only been treating the headaches as they were? But then again, if there was some weird side effect to it like that, it would explain why normal painkillers had never worked for him….

Why wouldn’t she have told him?

“Different? Different how?”

[nopunchline]

"Mm...more aggressive. More...confident, maybe," Declan considered, squinting slightly and gesturing for Aoba to drink the tea.

"I would call it false bravado," Ghost suggested, earning a small, hesitant nod from the Titan. "Not entirely confidence, unless it's blind. Which still makes it false bravado all the same. And a bit forward, if you ask my opinion!"

"Uh...he was cocky, is all," Declan clarified, thinking Aoba wouldn't like hearing that he'd bordered on vulgar.

"But...it's part of you that's been shut off. Locked up. I don't know if that's healthy," the large man murmurs, fingers tapping softly on a mug the color of his skin.

"I think it's okay, having those parts. If it happens again, it doesn't change anything. You're always going to be welcome here, Aoba. You with more sides, or multiple yous. However it works. Like I said, it doesn't change anything. Just makes it a little different."

[scrappyblue]

Aoba managed a sip of the tea at Declan’s urging, but then he was mostly just staring into its contents. Aggressive, confident, cocky. Him? Was some part of him just stuck being an unruly teenager?

He could barely believe Declan was taking it all with such calm. Did anything get under the Guardian’s skin? Not that Aoba wasn’t grateful in some distracted fashion. If he was suddenly getting kicked out for strange behavior that he couldn’t even explain, instead, he’d be back at square one. Maybe even a few steps backwards from it. Negative square one.

“At least one of us isn’t bothered by it,” he murmured, prompting Ren to paw at him a little. Gently, so as to not upset his tea.

“Aoba, as difficult as I imagine it must be, I would strongly encourage you from working yourself up and overthinking it. You should stay calm, stay on your new medication, and avoid agitating your brain. Setting up another appointment with Jolene-9 in light of this new information would also be a good idea. And…perhaps avoid looking at the ‘Prismatic Heart’ artifact in the future, as well.”

Now that just sounded random, to an Aoba ignorant of the conversations before. He gave the Allmate in his lap a frown. “What? Why?”

In turn, Ren skewed his ears. In all honesty, he was uncomfortable with taking advice from that ‘other Aoba’. Was it even trustworthy? (The fact that Ren’s automatic reaction to another side of his master was distrust, was itself in need of an entirely different level of analysis.) “The…other version of you implied it had something to do with it manifesting.”

[nopunchline]

"I'm bothered," the Titan replied softly, looking up with measurable concern. "You're split somehow. That can't be healthy. Whether you're two halves of a whole or two people entirely independent of each other, you're struggling in ways I can't being to fathom. You're hurting, in a way, and that bothers me."

Reaching over and picking up the artifact, Declan turns the glittering thing in his hand, looking between Aoba and Ren.

"I can put this away for you...I'm sorry if one of my gifts cause you pain," the pale man remarked, nodding slowly before closing his eyes with a soft sigh.

"Ren knows you better than I do. I'm sure he knows what to do."

[scrappyblue]

Two halves of a whole, or two independent people…? Aoba’s head hurt just trying to imagine either of those scenarios, though that was a metaphorical statement rather than a literal one. Neither one sounded good, much less anything like the lesser of two evils. Tea already forgotten again after that one sip, he watched Declan pick up that suspended, gleaming crystal. What had he said about it? The colors of your heart, or something like that? Ren looked relieved to see it in Declan’s grasp, ears upright as he began, “I think removing it is a good id-“ Not a good idea. “-Wait, wait, hold on,” Aoba cut in, interrupting, goaded by something like a gut instinct—or an impulsive thought from his hindmost brain. That crystal was the last thing he remembered looking at, so the evidence was there alright. “If there’s some…locked up part of me that it brought out, isn’t taking it away like throwing away the key?” “I was not thinking of it in those terms, but the analogy is not inaccurate,” Ren answered, deep voice lending him a sternness that his fluffy form didn’t naturally possess. “If we get rid of the ‘key’ and you stay on your medications, then what just happened will never happen again.” “…Can you really be sure of that? Declan says keeping part of me locked up can’t be healthy and I, I think he’s right. If that’s been the source of my headaches all along, wouldn’t they only get worse?” Ren’s ears were back to being held backwards, though now unhappily and wary, rather than angry. “Aoba…I think the phrase would be, ‘I have a bad feeling’. I don’t trust it.” “Me? You mean you don’t trust me?” “That…didn’t feel like you. I’m not entirely sure how to explain it except to say that I don’t think you should listen to anything said by—by that other side of you.”

[nopunchline]

The back and forth kept Declan's attention, insofar as he was listening but staying out of it for the moment. Turning the crystal over in his hands, he had his own thoughts and kept his own counsel. It was just as well; hardly anyone valued the Titan's opinions on things. Titans were so often dismissed as little more than walking blocades, himself even more so for how slow he seemed to grasp the most basic concepts and how little he actively communicated with others outside of combat.

Those were things that he didn't care about. But he cared about Aoba. So speak up, god dammit!

"I trust you. Both of you. Well. I mean...all three of you," he muttered, instantly regretting speaking up, but pushing through nonetheless.

"...Um...hm...I...Sometimes I get angry..." He started, trailing off a moment and looking at the artifact. Inhaling deeply and uttering a tremulous, almost frightened sigh, the Guardian continued.

"...I don't...think I'm a bad person. I try to be a good man - I really do. I know what's right and wrong. I know it's wrong to hurt people, but sometimes I just get so angry," Declan paused, looking down at his free hand, balled into a fist and trembling. He forced himself to relax again, pale eyes drifting up between Ren and Aoba.

"Everyone has parts of themselves they aren't proud of. Parts they can't control. Some people have uncontrollably sad parts, like Mac. Some have uncontrollably angry parts, like me. Everyone has something. But...we can't ignore those parts, or shut them away. We grow around them, right? We take those parts we aren't proud of, and we make them into strengths. Mac is so honest and loyal. I became a Titan. My anger has saved lives. I might think it's ugly...but it helped me meet you," Declan remarked, gesturing vaguely and tilting his head, the curtain of his dried hair drifting over one eye.

"Ren...Aoba...what if the parts of you that you're cutting off, are things that are part of what make you beautiful? Roses..." He paused, struggling to collect his thoughts, to put his abstract ideas into coherent words when it was probably the most he'd talked all at once in most of his life.

"Roses are perfect because of the sum of all their parts. Not just the petals. The scent, the stem, the leaves, the inside parts you don't see but that keep the bush flourishing every year. Even the thorns. What if you're pulling off the petals and hiding your own luster? Or cutting off your thorns and leaving yourself defenseless? I'm not saying...that I trust it all to be safe. But I think you should both consider everything before making any hurried decisions. I won't get rid of this," he paused, holding up the artifact.

"I'll store it in my lock box. If you want to try again, you can ask me for it. I'll stand by all parts of you, Aoba."

[scrappyblue]

Perhaps Aoba had a fortunate advantage in this way: this world wasn’t his own. He may have learned the words for the different kinds of Guardians and had a rough idea of each’s role, but he had no innate assumptions. Declan was quiet compared to many, sure, and especially so in comparison to people Aoba had seen around him like Mac and Cayde-6, but never would Aoba dismiss his kindness, thoughtfulness, and generosity for it. So Declan spoke and Aoba listened, patient as the big Guardian pieced together some surprisingly poetic imagery with his unpracticed words…even if he had trouble imagining his pale, statuesque benefactor anything like angry. Two weeks from their meeting, and even if most of their interactions had been over those video calls, Aoba had yet to see anything that made him think the man deserved to be called ‘Decker’. At the offer to lock the Heart away, which seemed to Aoba to run counter to everything he’d just been advised, he put his hand out and over Declan’s wrist again. “You don’t have to put it away, Declan. It’s not like I’m…afraid of it or anything.” “Aoba-” “No, Ren,” he cut off his Allmate again, though this time he softened the words by stroking between Ren’s ears with his free hand. “I mean, sure, it’s all really confusing and, honestly, kind of upsetting to suddenly learn there’s a part of me I don’t even know, and that Granny never told me about, but….” Aoba fumbles briefly, trying to piece it all together. He can look at the Heart again if he really wants to, maybe, but as much as he finds himself resisting the suggestion of locking it away from himself, the argument against it that he settles on ends up being something far less complicated. “…You brought that back for me, Declan. I want to be able to see it in my collection along with all the other pieces, too.”