Aoba most definitely left the ship while Declan was gone, stretching his legs and recharging whatever emotional batteries they were that had been drained by being inside the close space of the Mariner. Ren displayed Declan’s calls on one of the numerous screens he now had the capabilities to display and took a handful of photographs of the scenery with Aoba in them, including one with Declan’s ship in the background rather than the landscape.
The revelation that twelve hours was basically most of a full day for him meant that Aoba was sure to get in a long nap in the middle—and if he borrowed the blanket from Declan’s bed to pull another layer over his own, Ren wasn’t telling. (Or not the Guardian himself, at least.) Upon waking Aoba turned towards defrosting some of the meals that had been loaded onto the ship and packaging them up as requested. None of them were things that needed to be hot to be really palatable, so they wouldn’t have to be eaten immediately. By the time Declan returned, Aoba was good and ready to see him again, in preparedness as well as just plain relief.
Like zero gravity, riding on the Sparrow went from fright to thrill very quickly. His cloak whipped at the air as Declan sped them along, the Guardian a sturdy and not unpleasant hold for Aoba to cling to (however guiltily), but he was distracted enough by the sights to not dwell overmuch on the nearness.
The part of the journey they had to take on foot was far less pleasant on all accounts, but then they were finally arrived. Aoba didn’t have many questions beyond the particulars of how and where to start perusing all the information theoretically available to them. It fell to Ghost and the upgraded Ren to handle most of that, anyway. Aoba, being not much of one for reading, was still at a lack of ideas for things to read on his own, too. But before falling completely into Ren’s wake, he indulged a little help and guidance, browsed some shelves, and returned to Declan.
“This still what you were curious about?” he asked, offering a thick book with a generic-sounding title and an author he’d never heard of, but contents he hoped would be interesting enough to the Guardian. “It’s not about Midorijima, but it’s still about my era in the rest of Japan.”
no subject
The revelation that twelve hours was basically most of a full day for him meant that Aoba was sure to get in a long nap in the middle—and if he borrowed the blanket from Declan’s bed to pull another layer over his own, Ren wasn’t telling. (Or not the Guardian himself, at least.) Upon waking Aoba turned towards defrosting some of the meals that had been loaded onto the ship and packaging them up as requested. None of them were things that needed to be hot to be really palatable, so they wouldn’t have to be eaten immediately. By the time Declan returned, Aoba was good and ready to see him again, in preparedness as well as just plain relief.
Like zero gravity, riding on the Sparrow went from fright to thrill very quickly. His cloak whipped at the air as Declan sped them along, the Guardian a sturdy and not unpleasant hold for Aoba to cling to (however guiltily), but he was distracted enough by the sights to not dwell overmuch on the nearness.
The part of the journey they had to take on foot was far less pleasant on all accounts, but then they were finally arrived. Aoba didn’t have many questions beyond the particulars of how and where to start perusing all the information theoretically available to them. It fell to Ghost and the upgraded Ren to handle most of that, anyway. Aoba, being not much of one for reading, was still at a lack of ideas for things to read on his own, too. But before falling completely into Ren’s wake, he indulged a little help and guidance, browsed some shelves, and returned to Declan.
“This still what you were curious about?” he asked, offering a thick book with a generic-sounding title and an author he’d never heard of, but contents he hoped would be interesting enough to the Guardian. “It’s not about Midorijima, but it’s still about my era in the rest of Japan.”