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nopunchline) wrote in
orendalogs2015-12-11 10:38 pm
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Entry tags:
IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!
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 ]
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 ]
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The question gave him pause, chest rising and falling with a sigh as he reached to unbuckle himself, standing to stretch.
"No one knows," Ghost answered after a moment, blue eye flicking up and down, a mixture of apology and trepidation. "We Ghosts...we're very attached to our Guardians. In more ways than the literal. We talk among ourselves, ask whatever questions we can, debate. There's no answer though. Not until we revive the Traveler and can ask. But...as a benevolent force, we can at least safely assume nothing untoward."
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“So, all the fighting, all the…dying,” he forced, letting Ren down from his lap and slowly imitating the other man in undoing his own seat clasps as he spoke. “You don’t even know if Guardians will be allowed to enjoy the world they fought so hard for?”
Brought back from the dead just to fight, and sent back to the dust afterwards? That was what Aoba imagined in his place of doubt. If the Guardians could look forward to peaceful lives for themselves as well, at least they would have just rewards at the end of everything, but if not? That seemed needlessly cruel! Sure, Ghost not knowing meant they didn’t know, but that was a pretty massive thing to be ignorant about.
For Declan be sure of the world’s future, but not his own….
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"The Traveler died before it could tell anyone anything, but it did what it did out of love and desperation to protect humanity. We may come from the deceased, but we're no less human. We have faith that we matter as well. But...Isn't it too sad to question, Aoba?" he asked, swinging slightly on the spot before tilting his head and looking away slightly.
"Ghost and I...our parent died giving birth to us. That's what it is, in the end. Sacrificed everything to make sure we entered the world. We have to believe we're loved, too. When it all ends, we'll find out. I imagine a good many Guardians will want to rest."
"Many of us have agreed to decommission ourselves if our Guardians wish it. Then they will only have one life left, and no returning." Ghost explained, Declan reaching out and gently bumping him with a closed fist. "I will support whatever Declan wants."
"I want to go on living. As long as I have something to live for." The Titan gazed at Aoba, watching him for a moment before sniffing softly and reaching over to tap a button on the wall.
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But thinking that had to mean admitting he knew…at least something of what Declan thought of him. Felt for him? Something of refusing Desire’s unsubtle advances, but not completely rejecting—
Aoba looked down at his empty hands. At clothes that fit him like they’d been made for him, but that he didn’t fit at all.
“…There’s always something worth living for,” he said softly. “That’s why it’s so sad to think you might not get that kind of chance. But it’s worse to not question it. That would mean being resigned to whatever comes your way, and that’s not right.”
Aoba’s thoughts were shifting, a new point of reference found. The world’s future, even his own future—these things seemed less important than being sure Declan had one. But if a future for Declan meant the world being freed, being restored, and maybe even meant Aoba had a place in it…hm.
Ren definitely would have accused him of spiraling into overthinking again, if the little Allmate hadn't been fairly preoccupied by a number of things, himself.
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"Stop talking about things that upset you," he finally sighed, flipping a switch and arching a brow as the gravity died. "You don't need to burden yourself."
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Except turning to look at the Guardian, to start feeling a different sort of puzzled, was motion. A gentle motion, but motion nevertheless, and even if Aoba managed to fail to notice the moment when a force he’d experienced all his life was suddenly gone, he absolutely noticed when what should have been just a natural press of weight against his seat had nothing at all to counteract it.
It was best compared to a wobble, but never in his life had Aoba ever wobbled upwards before. His heavy thoughts were quickly replaced by a sound of surprise as he grabbed the arms of his chair in reflex.
Cheeky little maneuver there, Declan.
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Pushing off the frame he'd been holding specifically to keep himself oriented, the massive bulk of the Titan moved without any trouble, floating forward until he had a grip with one hand on the back of Aoba's seat, the other held out for the man.
"Come on. Stop thinking about everything awful you can dredge up, just for a while. I wanted you to enjoy your time out here. Create good memories. How many people do you know that have been in space, experienced zero gravity? Get up."
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But when Declan’s hand reached out, Aoba didn’t hesitate. He trusted the Guardian far more than his own disobedient body right now and clapped one of his hands to Declan’s nothing short of immediately, making a thin, wheezy kind of sound through his teeth. At least if his palms were suddenly sweating, no one would be able to tell through his gloves!
“Aoba. Declan.” Ren was trying, and simultaneously failing, not to sound perturbed despite maintaining his level tone. The little Allmate was doing a remarkable imitation of a Zero-G tumbleweed as he drifted towards the ceiling, little feet paddling uselessly. “Ghost, please help me.”
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He burst into a very sudden, very real, short, loud laugh deep from his chest as he looked up and saw Ren. He immediately tried to stifle himself, raising his free hand and waving quickly, mumbling an apology before choking on another. Ghost rolled his eye and drifted over, gently bumping Ren this way and that until he was able to tuck into a shelf area.
Another apology tumbling out, Declan reached out and took Aoba's other hand, holding both as they floated in the open space behind the seats, bright eyes glittering with his amusement and pleasure. He was determined not to let anything spoil the few moments he could give.
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But Ren was safe soon enough, digging his little claws into the metal grating of a shelf and heaving a little dog-sigh with ears skewed and pink tongue sticking out, leaving Aoba free to be bewildered by the sensations of zero gravity. His cloak, the gear straps on his vest and belt, even his hair were suddenly suspended in the air and reacting to every little motion of his body as if he were floating underwater, minus the feel of any water itself actually acting against his body. It wasn’t frightening, he realized, but it was bizarre.
Declan’s face, though. The way it came alive when he laughed, when his eyes sparkled with good humor that was even brighter than their naturally otherworldy glow. An image flicked across his thoughts, one he wasn’t even rightly sure he could blame on Desire, of how easy it might be to just give his arms a tug, pull himself in, tilt his head and—
He did nothing of the sort and stared down towards his feet instead. Yep. Sure were nowhere near the floor. Aoba was suddenly very glad for the shell of the ship all around them.
“Okay. Okay, um. Wow.” Words were useless for the moment, but he was adjusting, his heart only pounding because of Declan’s laugh and smile.
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"This is the most free I ever feel," Declan expressed, gently squeezing Aoba's hands. "Turning off gravity over Venus and looking down on the jungles is beautiful, but floating in the Reef is magical. I figured it was better to do in the ship, since your hair can be free, but if you feel like braving it outside, we can do it at the Reef. It's completely safe to be outside there."
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Without gravity to pull him one singular way, to tell his brain which direction the ground was in, Aoba couldn’t have said if it was really them rotating or if the ship had magically begun to spin around them. Without vertigo or any sense of danger pressing at him, adjusting finally turned towards relaxing. The gentle turns made everything feel like slow motion, like it didn’t matter how quickly the field of stars outside the windows was changing, because everything inside the ship was just hung on a handful of moments.
“My hair?” he repeated, the seeming absurdity bringing a splutter of amusement from his lips. Naturally, a smile had to follow. As much as he was not-unused to his hair drawing attention for various reasons, Declan’s was refreshingly unobtrusive. “I feel like it must look pretty ridiculous right now.”
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"I think it's beautiful," he shrugged, not the least embarrassed to say so. "The color is lovely enough but...it's more how it's cut and how fluffy it is. Makes me think of paintings I saw on Mars in one of the hotels. There were these big birds. Pheasants or peacocks--"
"Phoenixes," Ghost corrected, Declan nodding.
"Chinese phoenixes, right. They weren't like big firebirds or anything, and usually in muted colors. Big sleek brown ones with long green and red feathers, or fluffy white ones. You remind me of those paintings."
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He decided not to dwell on the absurdity of being compared to a phoenix, mythical sign of good fortune that it was, and instead went with, “Aah, I know those. The Japanese version is similar. It’s not a firebird at all.
“I have to cut it myself—my hair, I mean. One of my friends is a hairdresser and he critiques it sometimes, so next time he tries that I’ll just have to tell him it’s a ‘phoenix cut’!”
Sorry, Aoba, it’s still a fluffy mullet.no subject
"Phoenix cut sounds very impressive though," he chuckled, still at ease since the first laugh cut through the usual red tape of emotional closure.
"Mac says my hair is stupid. He doesn't pull any punches," the Titan's eyes rolled, a hand reaching up and playing with the perfectly straight cut ends. "Says it's very 1990's geek-not-chic and I should have more respect for myself. I just thought it was very utilitarian. Long enough that I could do something with it if I felt inclined, short enough not to be a bother. You've seen his hair. He looks like a turkey." He paused, lips pursing and eyes drifting to the side as he cleared his throat.
"That was unkind of me. He's very proud of his hair."
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He listened, prepared to defend Declan’s own haircut—and then instead was completely blindsided by his comparison for Mac’s. Now it was Aoba’s turn for a deep, genuine laugh of surprise.
“I would have said ‘cockatoo’,” he answered, tone kindly after he’d settled from his laughter. He wasn’t really of a mood to insult Mac at all, only to reassure Declan with a silly comparison of his own. He moved on from it quickly enough with a, “Your hair is fine. It suits you, I think. You’re kind of shy in a way, so it hides you a little, but whenever both your eyes show you look intense in a cool way.”
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"Yes! Yes, definitely," he chuckled warmly, amused by the correlation. At the follow up, his cheeks colored faintly, lips quirking at one corner with a pleased, flattered expression. Intense in a cool way, he'd said. That...was cool. He was cool? And intense, but not in a negative term. Shy he could have done without, but he wouldn't protest the truth. He was absolutely horrible at socializing. He'd never really felt all that inclined to talk to someone so much. While he couldn't pin a singular thing that made Aoba different, he was.
Maybe it was as simple as Aoba wanting to talk to him, too.
"Do you think I should change it?" he asked, reaching up and flicking floating sheets of his hair idly. "It's been like this since I first rose so...what...?"
"Four years, one month, eighteen days," Ghost intoned, Declan nodding slowly.
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His thoughts fell upon something half a weird coincidence and half an absurd thought, which made it to his lips in the process of his thoughts restarting.
“Geez…if my first portal had dumped me here instead of Steelport, I could have shown up on your rebirthday instead,” he spluttered a little, rubbing the back of his neck as he did his best not to let his thoughts spiral off onto any more upsetting thoughts regarding the Guardian’s short span of…second life.
“I don’t think you have to change anything you don’t want to,” he answered instead, unhooking his feet and starting a slow spin back to the ‘correct’ orientation compared to the ship. “I’ve kept my hair like this for all twenty-three of my years. Maybe some of it is necessity, but this just works for me, too. If yours works for you, you don’t have to listen to anyone saying you should change it.”
Even if he would look all the more impressive if his eyes showed all the time.
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"Hm...but do you think there's something that might suit me more?" he asked, arching a brow and turning himself so he looked like he was sitting on an invisible chair, hands on his knees.
"I'm not partial to this haircut versus another. It just seemed to work. Do you think there's a better fit for my face?"
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Which then made him think, what, did he really want to construe himself as some kind of gift? Except Declan had said it first and more than a few times already, just in different words….
But wait, hold on. What was he—was he really? Yes he was. He was floating in zero G like he was on a chair. Like he was a client lined up for Koujaku’s roaming haircutting services. So should Aoba take on the role of stylist?
Oh why the hell not. Although Aoba had to chuff a laugh again for the absurdity of it all, it was comfortable again, and he pulled his way closer with the various handrails until he found another place to hook a leg and hover close enough, himself.
“Well I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask, but since you are asking me, I’d say….” He carefully brought a hand up, catching that main fall of Declan’s bangs between second and third finger to delicately lift it aside. “Well, you could keep the same style but just trim it back more, although you’d have to maintain it more often if you did. And if you wanted to be really drastic, you could probably get away with-”
Aoba finger-combed, then. Still very carefully, as used to the sensitivity of his own hair as he was, but he brushed back all of Declan’s hair from his face to reveal it in full. Glowing eyes, alabaster skin…and had Aoba really ever taken note of the way it seemed to shimmer, before? It was opalescent but still alive, still warm skin.
“You have really striking features, you know?” Aoba managed to say without any inwards squirming, just giving an honest opinion as had been asked for. “Ghost said you’re—” Wait. Abort. Restart. “I mean, have you ever seen pictures of any of those really old marble statues? Greek or Roman or something like that? You look like you could be one, just up and living.”
Was that a weird comparison? It was probably a weird comparison. But Ghost had pretty strongly implied he was originally Roman, Aoba thought, and the man just looked…statuesque. He definitely didn’t need to hide behind his hair, if that’s what he was doing.
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For Declan's part, he found himself relaxing under Aoba's hands, the fingers through his hair working like they traditionally would on a person, soothing, relaxing. Bright eyes drifted half-closed as his scalp prickled with comfortable sensations. It ddin't occur to him that he'd never been touched so familiarly; military barbers weren't exactly so free with their contact.
"I've seen statues in museums and old parks," he mused, nodding slightly, though careful not to dislodge his head from Aoba's grasp. "And some of my books...You think I look like that?" he remarked, humming a soft sound of thought.
"They have really short-cropped hair or really long hair usually, that I've seen. But my hair isn't curly...should I cut it and style it up some? You just want me to show my face, right? So anything works?" Because making life decisions centered around Aoba was easy.
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Opinion offered, he set about combing Declan’s hair back into place for him before drifting back, reclining in the lack of gravity. Man, it would probably be really easy to fall asleep like this, huh? As long as you didn’t drift into anything painful. No pressure points, no struggling to get your pillow fluffed just right….
“But that’s just my opinion.”
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"We'll see. Like I said, I'm not partial to this over anything else. It just...seemed the right thing to do, so I did it," he said, leaving his sitting position in favor of just a relaxed, idle drift, considering things.
"I didn't show you the rest of the ship, but there's a shower just like back at my place, a small table and two chairs bolted back there by the freezer and induction cooktop. The shower is adjacent to the bunk in the room back there just left of the engine duct. It's small, but there's everything you need to get by for a long trip. If you want to rest or shower, help yourself to everything."
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Ren was staring at him from his safe little shelf perch. Aoba noticed this and chuckled, holding out his hands. “Come on, Ren. Try it!”
Pointed little ears skewed in different directions. “Hmm. If nothing else I would be remiss in not figuring out how to move properly in a zero-gravity environment….”
“Aa. Too bad your Rhyme form isn’t your real one. It’d come in a lot of handy right now, wouldn’t it?”
“This is true, but in the absence of such a thing, I should at least experiment,” Ren ultimately agreed, picking himself up and hunching at the front of the shelf with a very lifelike waggle of his back end as he gathered for a jump.
He did very well with his trajectory. And then when he collided with Aoba’s arms, they both went gently tumbling.
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"Let me know when you're ready to have the gravity back on. I'm going to do the engine checklist and a few other things. If you need me and I can't hear you, your suit has a communicator and there's the ship comm on the navigation panel. Ghost can show you where it is."
Nodding once, the Titan shoved off the nearest wall, then pulled himself through the main area to the panel leading into the engineering duct. A moment of adjustments and he was disappearing in the shaft full of wiring, pulling himself down the ladder therein.
Ghost remained with the other two, making himself available to nudge them somewhere or explain things. Or just be a friend where he could. He did cautiously follow them around, mostly fretting over Ren, it seemed.
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And now, the non-canon
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