"Oh, believe me, I do try to avoid expiration," Declan replied with a tilt of his reflective face. His expressions were hidden, but the tone of his voice and general body language suggested amusement mixed with seriousness.
"Just because our Ghost can bring us back doesn't mean it doesn't hurt or traumatize us sometimes," he pointed out, pausing to look down the length of his primary weapon, turning it and checking the settings and clip.
"I'll be as safe as possible and come home right away, soon as my patrol concludes. I promise," Declan nodded once, inclining his head before turning away to hop off the ship and throw his leg over his Sparrow, unloaded from the underbelly of the ship.
Of all the things Aoba had seen that Declan owned, the Iron Gjallerwing model Sparrow was the most indulgent and elegant, well-cared for, buffed, polished, and shining. He settled back into the black leather seat and turned to Aoba, staring a moment in thought before clearing his throat.
"I'll swing by and pick you up later and I'll check in to let you know everything is fine. Make and pack some food for us to have at the library, maybe? You stay safe, too." He lingered a moment, finger tapping on the handle of his Sparrow as thought he had other things to say, but he eventually gave up, nodded once, and revved the engine, peeling off down a worn path that may have once been a paved road.
True to his word, Declan checked in periodically, showing off the landscapes he was in charge of. For all that it could have been a disaster, twelve hours went by quickly for him, and he eventually returned, waiting outside on the Sparrow for Aoba to join him. Which meant riding behind Declan's big body and hugging around his waist. The Titan was wisely silent about his lack of disappointment. He was allowed to secretly enjoy it, even if he felt a little guilty.
The trip to the academy was short and littered with the machine remains of dead Vex. Getting into the library required a little bit of light spelunking and crawling through old, empty sewers, but the end result was an astonishingly huge, beautiful, and surprisingly very intact library crossed with a museum and art gallery. Declan answered any and all questions he could, leaving the rest up to Ghost, but Aoba was largely left to his own devices, allowed to explore in relative safety to his heart's content. Declan, exhausted from patrolling, took the time to sit on the floor against some shelves and eat a little bit of food, occasionally putting his mask over his face to get a bit more oxygen in the less than filtered environment.
no subject
"Just because our Ghost can bring us back doesn't mean it doesn't hurt or traumatize us sometimes," he pointed out, pausing to look down the length of his primary weapon, turning it and checking the settings and clip.
"I'll be as safe as possible and come home right away, soon as my patrol concludes. I promise," Declan nodded once, inclining his head before turning away to hop off the ship and throw his leg over his Sparrow, unloaded from the underbelly of the ship.
Of all the things Aoba had seen that Declan owned, the Iron Gjallerwing model Sparrow was the most indulgent and elegant, well-cared for, buffed, polished, and shining. He settled back into the black leather seat and turned to Aoba, staring a moment in thought before clearing his throat.
"I'll swing by and pick you up later and I'll check in to let you know everything is fine. Make and pack some food for us to have at the library, maybe? You stay safe, too." He lingered a moment, finger tapping on the handle of his Sparrow as thought he had other things to say, but he eventually gave up, nodded once, and revved the engine, peeling off down a worn path that may have once been a paved road.
True to his word, Declan checked in periodically, showing off the landscapes he was in charge of. For all that it could have been a disaster, twelve hours went by quickly for him, and he eventually returned, waiting outside on the Sparrow for Aoba to join him. Which meant riding behind Declan's big body and hugging around his waist. The Titan was wisely silent about his lack of disappointment. He was allowed to secretly enjoy it, even if he felt a little guilty.
The trip to the academy was short and littered with the machine remains of dead Vex. Getting into the library required a little bit of light spelunking and crawling through old, empty sewers, but the end result was an astonishingly huge, beautiful, and surprisingly very intact library crossed with a museum and art gallery. Declan answered any and all questions he could, leaving the rest up to Ghost, but Aoba was largely left to his own devices, allowed to explore in relative safety to his heart's content. Declan, exhausted from patrolling, took the time to sit on the floor against some shelves and eat a little bit of food, occasionally putting his mask over his face to get a bit more oxygen in the less than filtered environment.