orendalogs | IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!

"It's up to you, Aoba. I want you to enjoy yourself, and feel safe. If these things are compromised by haste, then it isn't worth it. The sleeping arrangements were something I thought about in passing but assumed rotation would be fine. I would rather be awake when you are, though. To spend as much time with you as I can before you're gone," Declan reasoned, sliding into the pilot seat and leaning back a bit.

"I'm happy to accommodate you in any way possible."

And with those words, Declan hit upon a perfect combination to silence Aoba in a hurry. Not that last sentence, but the one before.

He sighed quietly, looking down at the Guardian. Though Aoba had moved up front, it was only to be in view of the windows. His hand was up on an overhead support and he hung into it a little. The only solid complaint he could have made was as to how limited the views outside rather were. He wondered if this was comparable to being in a submarine, in a way. Rather than being completely afraid of the vastness of space outside the vessel, it was like his mind interpreted it as just a dark night sky and it was good to be able to see it.

“Scenic route it is, then,” he answered. If Declan wanted as much time with him as possible, then it was only fair, since Aoba wanted much the same of Declan.

Smiling slowly and arching a brow as he looked up, the Titan nodded, content. He would have to try to get Aoba out of the ship at some point, though he was fine with waiting until they went to the Reef. It was a prettier float, at any rate.

"So all we have to do is figure out the sleeping arrangements. I defer to your judgment there as well," Declan stated, leaning forward to scroll through the updated bounty boards again, wondering if there was anything to take Aoba on safely. A few scouting missions...those were usually safe so far as being non-engagement assignments. He was trying to find ways to avoid Aoba having to handle weapons at all. Then man was so against the idea that Declan didn't even want it to be an issue any longer.

What was there to figure out? Aoba blinked, only to realize oh, right. Assumptions weren’t getting him anywhere lately. He’d have to make an effort not to be vague. He didn’t really like being the one to make all the decisions, given that it felt lopsided to do so, but Declan was just as he said: accommodating. Almost unbelievably so.

“Just split the mattresses apart, since that’s an option. Like you said, we’ll lose out on time together if we’re sleeping in shifts.”

"Into different places, or next to each other?" he asked, still looking down at his screen, tone carefully neutral. He knew his preference, but he absolutely didn't want to speak up on behalf of his indecent self-interest. The idea that he might even accidentally curl up against Aoba at night was both highly inappropriate and extremely tantalizing.

He didn't know whether to be disgusting with himself or mystified over the fact that he could even feel such a way. Prior to meeting the man he'd always assumed himself to be utterly psychologically sexless. He'd had many opportunities to find interest in others, had been approached by the occasional daring or drunk person who simply admired his statuesque figure, but he'd never even been tempted. Only Aoba interested him, and it was only partly physical attraction. Declan simply liked him. He wanted to curl up around the man and rest in consuming silence and darkness and never think about anything going on outside of them ever again.

It seemed like utter madness, but he thought it was alright to indulge in some ways. Though not entirely sure when he'd begun thinking of Aoba quite so...feverishly, he let the feels remain muted in the back of his mind and focused where he could. Now was a chance to be at least a little indulgent, but he wouldn't press his luck. It was enough to be near the man.

And then there was Aoba, hesitating at the fact that it even required specification. They'd shared room before, so why-

Oh god, right. It was Aoba himself who'd skipped out on that shared room before. With his other side acting out like he had, Aoba had been the one avoidant in the aftermath. Maybe their apologies of action this morning didn't quite cut it in that regard. Or more likely, Declan was just staying considerate.

"... There's no need to drag a mattress halfway across the ship," he replied, a little tentative despite himself. He could just feel the heavy stare Desire was giving him and almost feared what the other might say instead if he took the opportunity right now.

Maybe his silence was worse. Maybe it meant Aoba was saying things aligned with his thoughts.

"If you put them side by side it'll be like sleeping on futons."

A glance at Ghost got a quick "Bedding common in Japan and other East Asian cultures. Soft mattresses that could be rolled or folded away to conserve space and provide room for the minimalist lifestyle popular for centuries."

Nodding slightly in understanding and relaxing himself enough not to look overly pleased, the Titan smiled agreeably.

"So be it. There's enough space in the bunkroom, and it's better in there anyways with the shower so close. It gets cold in space, sometimes, and the ship heating elements aren't exactly the best, but turning the shower steamer on warms the space up nicely and the humidity combats the dry cycled air. It's pretty comfortable..." he trailed off, thinking perhaps he was over-sharing. Either way, he was feeling pretty pleased. Sleeping later one would be much more restful, if it were anything like the night he got to fall asleep looking at Aoba.

"We're approaching a waypoint," he murmured, pointing out the window at a blinking mass in the distance. Something like a small automated satellite, there to help boost signals in an era long past, proximity lights flashing on it's sides to make itself more visible to travelers. They were taking a common auto-routed path, so seeing the waypoint was expected.

"Be sure to take many photographs, Aoba. That way you'll have things to show your granny."

“I have been taking photographs of things at interest at regular intervals,” came that deep little voice at their feet. Aoba bent to pick Ren up and set him in the empty copilot seat, allowing the Allmate to hop up against the window for a better view.

In the middle of the motion, however, it gave Aoba a sudden thought. “Ah…we’ll have to take some pictures that have me in them, for the memories as much as the credibility. You too, Declan, if you wouldn’t mind it.”

Pale eyes flicked up, watching Aoba and Ren for a moment before shyly casting down to his screen again, thought his expression was pleased. It made him happy to know it mattered to Aoba that there was a recorded memory of him, that he existed. It made him even happier to know wherever the man was, he could think of Declan, and the memory would keep him alive.

"I would be honored to be in pictures with you, Aoba. If you don't think my appearance would be too shocking."

“I won’t show them to just anybody,” Aoba countered, moving back to view the windows from that standing position again. This time, though, he leaned against the back of Declan’s seat, not to watch what the man was doing with all those screens but just to be there. “They’ll mostly be for me, and for the people I trust enough to tell everything.

“Besides,” he added an impulsive moment later, “I think the word is ‘stunning’ rather than ‘shocking’.”

That seemed okay to remind him, since Aoba had already compared him to those ancient statues before. Something to work on reinforcing that low self-esteem.

Another vague smile, a finger tapping on the edge of the screen before he looked up, chest rising and falling visibly with a sigh despite all the concealing armor. Definitely reminded one that the armor wasn't big, the body was.

"And you. You truly are the most beautiful man I've ever seen, and I've seen many. The gentle slopes of your face and softness of your eyes. It makes me think of watercolor paintings....I like watercolor paintings." Honesty. The best policy....right?

Woah woah woah, okay, maybe Aoba should have expected a riposte like that, except he was dumb and he hadn't. That was a full-scale upgrade from compliments to just his hair. Somehow Aoba managed to turn his surprise into a splutter that sounded closer to a laugh than anything else, grinning self-consciously as color surged into his cheeks.

So if you're a watercolor painting and he likes watercolor paintings, that's big guy speak for 'I like you', right?? demanded that background voice, which only embarrassed him several degrees more.

You don't like people the same way you like watercolor paintings, was his own retort, further delaying an outward reply.

"That's-" Faltering. "A-As long as you don't leave off the part about me being a man," was what he somehow wound up with, as if embarrassing memories might somehow be better than an embarrassing present. "I've had people compare me to a woman way too many times in the past already."

"I don't think you look like a woman," Declan replied, confusion clear. He paused a moment, head tilting as he turned to give Aoba an appraising look before shaking his head. Definitely not a woman.

"You're slighter in frame than say, a Titan typically is, but you have a masculine presenting body and you carry yourself with a similar manner. If you identified as female, I would think you'd emphasize attributes to identify as much, even if stereotypically. I hope you didn't take my comparing you to a type of painting as assuming your identity. You simply have softer features that make me think of the delicacy taken in making a watercolor painting. There were many watercolor paintings of men," he added the last, a bit perplexed before pondering a moment, trying to think about time frames and general eras of thought.

"...Is finding another man attractive not...acceptable in your time?" Declan hedged, instantly anxious, expression somewhat stricken.

"I am sorry, Aoba, if anything I've said makes you uncomfortable. I just thought being truthful was best. I can keep my comments to myself. I didn't think about different things might be between here and there."

At first it was a case of see, watercolors are different from people as Declan went off on one of his rambling, but thoughtful tangents. That hindmost voice grumbled skeptically, but Aoba started to use it to reinforce the idea that just because Declan was honest and open, whatever Aoba’s own awkward reactions towards him were, it didn’t mean that the Guardian himself-

Scratch that. Declan just used the word ‘attractive’, and there were certain connotations there that raced right past mere aesthetics. The part of Aoba’s mind that was all his own did a complete record scratch, floundering at the sudden look of horror on his friend’s face.

“What? No, I- I mean back in my time is one thing, but you- coming from you, that is, I, ah….”

Forming a reassuring answer he was not, the color deepening in his cheeks as he lost the ability to answer a simple question all on the possibilities of context.

“The culture of Aoba’s hometown is not particularly receptive to homosexuality,” put forward a deep little voice, whipping Aoba’s head around. Ren watched them both quite levelly, his tongue sticking out in his general expression as if nothing were amiss. “It still faces numerous stigmas and heteronormativity remains the expected default.”

Aoba didn’t even have time to wonder what Ren was doing. It was an honest answer, yes, along the same lines of factual that Declan could have gotten from Ghost, but—the Allmate wasn’t done, it seemed. There was a little shift in the dog’s dark eyes, hard to see if one wasn’t used to Ren’s subtle expressions, but Aoba felt that regard land on him before-

“Aoba’s own explorations of his sexuality have been limited as a result.”

Declan turned his attention to Ren respectfully, listening with a small nod and still terribly concerned look, his apologies still written on his face. He didn't even flinch at the terms used, unhindered by judgments regarding those sorts of things. Whatever hangups he had from his past life weren't exactly at war with his identity; that much at least he either accepted fully or was somehow oblivious to prior to it mattering to someone in his company.

"...I'm sorry. I was ignorant," the Titan frowned, shaking his head slowly before turning away to look at the window, wondering how he should interpret it in the long term.

He hadn't thought for a minute that his observations might be offensive, well-meaning as they were. What if Aoba thought being complimented by a man was disgusting somehow? Nevermind that he hadn't even thought about Aoba's sexuality in regards to his fascination with the man. Since he hadn't ever dared imagine himself actually making moves on the other man, Declan had believed being honest and complimentary would be fully acceptable. In his time, even if a sexuality weren't shared, it wasn't offensive. Compliments and flattery were genuinely neutral. Even the Titan knew a beautiful woman when he saw one, whether he had interest or not, and would compliment where he had the courage to do so.

But now he'd met someone who was truly beautiful to him and sexually attractive. He'd let himself get carried away and shouldn't have. As usual, he should have just kept his opinions to himself and let the other person think he was distant and unfeeling. He'd crossed lines without even considering they may exist.

"Stupid..." he whispered to himself, expression pained as he focused his gaze on the ship diagnostic returns, one leg bouncing slightly in his contained anxiety.

"I will endeavor to avoid causing you discomfort in the future," Declan eventually intoned, stilling visibly as a door somewhere behind silver-white eyes slid closed.

Edited 2018-11-04 14:46 (UTC)

Meanwhile Aoba was reeling enough at the fact that his Allmate had, in a word, outed him. As his confidant, Ren had never pulled anything of that caliber before. Maybe it directly addressed what had been skirted around before, but would it really help?

Apparently not, said Declan's reaction. Aoba couldn't see his expression completely, standing where he was, but he saw the agitation in his body language suddenly go still.

Aoba felt cold, a leaden lump dropping into his stomach. So that had to mean... Declan really only had meant things aesthetically. Whatever it was Desire was raging right now-

-oh no, no way, no way do you get to tell me all that thing about 'compromise' and permission didn't mean-

-was either mistaken or irrelevant. So, okay, that cleared up a lot. Aoba was... not as relieved as he once might have thought he'd be. He didn't think anything had been ingenuine, but now he knew it plainly. Declan was his friend and that was where it would remain.

"... You've never made me uncomfortable, Declan," he somehow managed to counter, sounding sadder than he realized, and not seeing the stare that Ren shifted to Ghost with ears skewed. "I know I act awkward and strange, but... I've been more comfortable with you than most places I've ever been."

"You're certain?" he asked, tapping a finger lightly on the edge of the screen before looking up, fretting internally. The cork had been pulled from the bottle some time ago, and Declan found he didn't really want to be quiet anymore, where he'd thought he had express permission to voice his thoughts and opinions. He'd never really felt inclined to talk to anyone else so much, and imagining having to deny basic truths around Aoba was uncomfortable, to say the least.

"I know...a lot of my personal interests were only shared by the other...unrestrained? Part of you. And I know I have misinterpreted many things," the Titan admitted, Ghost squinting at him a moment before looking to Ren and twisting in his little shrug. He wasn't permitted half as much insight into Declan's mind as Ren was into Aoba's, so most it was just long-term companionship that allowed him to predict needs and articulations. Sometimes it was best just to let the man dig his own hole.

"But if you're certain my attraction to you is in no way offensive, that is a relief. I fear it would be extremely difficult to...somehow not be attracted. Then again I've never been interested in anyone, so making myself not be was never something I needed to practice. I promise, I would never, ever, insult you by making unwanted advances. I promise, I am content simply to be allowed to be here like this. I am no crude animal. Your friendship is more important than anything. My care for you is not contingent on any return."

There, that sounded pretty well-explained and rounded to him! It was alright to say he was interested, right? He wasn't saying anything absolutely mad like confessing feelings...that clearly wasn't permissible, so dancing around the issue was best. Just promise not to be a disgusting lech or anything, and as long as his being interested in men, specifically of the Aoba variety, wasn't offensive, then they could just go about their business. Better to air it out now and understand exactly the parameters Aoba wanted in their relationship. Declan felt like he full understood; his interest in his own gender was not acceptable, Aoba didn't like it, so he would be respectful and not pursue a relationship because it was at least socially offensive, but Aoba didn't think ill of Declan for it. That seemed like a fair compromise. Up until then he hadn't made Aoba uncomfortable, so his closeness and casual touching was fine. He just...had to stop there. No big deal, right?

It’s an incredible thing, to think you’ve made a perfect interpretation of words one moment, only to in the next have it all rendered completely wrong. Aoba went from thinking Declan had made his complements platonically and now had to fret over Aoba interpreting them romantically, to be outright told that—that the Guardian was actually, physically interested in him, as much as that background voice of his seemed to be interested in Declan in turn.

Damn right I am! You are! Look, it’s in the open now, all you have to do is say-

Desire was weirdly easy not to listen to right now. Aoba heard him, but it was just that: background noise. Thoughts that were relevant in awkward ways, but muted by the conflicting distress knotting up Aoba’s chest and stomach. Declan was attracted to him, and he’d somehow made the exact opposite interpretation of Ren’s words: not that Aoba’s own attraction to men had been limited by his surroundings, but that he had none as a result.

A minute ago, Aoba’s awkward feelings had bounced off a would-be-willing participant. Now they were closed off completely.

No, no, no! You open your mouth and you clear up the mistake!

…No, he couldn’t. He didn’t just want something physical. Desire could harp all he wanted; it was exactly what he’d been afraid of. That Declan would think all he cared about was the physical, because it had been Desire to open his big fat mouth first. Friends with benefits? Aoba didn’t want anything like that. Not from a person he’d come to care for so much.

It wasn’t fair that the words he’d just heard, so earnest and considerate, would make those feelings of care so much more painfully stronger.

“…I’m certain I’d still rather be around you than apart from you,” he answered quietly, putting a hand down on Declan’s shoulder. If their friendship was more important than anything, then that had to mean the casual skinship Aoba had opened up with him as well, didn’t it? “As long as ‘home’ stays open to me, that’ll always be the case.”

You are such an idiot.

Well. For once they agreed.

"Aoba, just because you don't return my feelings isn't reason enough to shut you out. I would never do anything like that. I fully understand that you don't feel the same way, and you're not obligated to. I'm simply happy you're here and willing to tolerate me. Home will never close to you," the Titan smiled up at the man, the pain he felt kept under the warm expression, hidden.

It was probably for the best; falling in love with someone he may very well never see again, no matter how optimistic he stood, wasn't in anyone's best interest. He was happy, at least, to know he wasn't really broken. He'd just never found 'the right one'. Now that he had and the man was inaccessible, it was...okay. At least he knew he could feel at all? Besides, he had a beautiful, good, honest friend. It was a win, even if a loss was taken to gain it.

"I still want to show you the galaxy," he added after a moment, smiling in spite of the ache. It had never really been about courting the man, after all. He genuinely liked Aoba, romantic or not, and wanted to give him everything before he left. He did wonder if he should ask if it was rude to dream about him occasionally, then thought better of it. He didn't know how he could stop it, so he would leave his dreams alone. There, at least, Aoba returned his affections. It would suffice.

He doesn’t understand anything! Reason, Aoba, for fuck’s sake-

His smile was so warm. Funny, how Aoba’s feelings towards other men had always been so—conflicting. Embarrassing. Yeah, there’d been some kisses, but Aoba had always been red-faced and uncomfortably embarrassed, questioning himself for whatever he enjoyed. Now here was a beautiful soul that Aoba might have found—less embarrassing, if not for Desire, and if he’d made plain his interests before this. And it just all got written out because he cared too much to just indulge momentary curiosity or fascination.

Not Declan’s. No, Aoba couldn’t even now think that the Guardian was anything less than a paragon of kindness and consideration. His own, he meant. As honest as Declan had been, Aoba couldn’t lie and give in to friendly benefits when for the first time in his life that he could recall, he found himself craving something deeper than that.

“And I still want you to show it to me,” he answered, one careful truth that he could still say. Aoba moved his hand and brushed Declan’s bangs aside one more time, meeting eyes more honest than his own had the courage to be. “That’s my promise.”

By the Traveler, it truly hurt to look up like that, to have his hair and face grazed in such a way. It hadn't hurt before, so why did it feel like his heart was being gripped by some unseen hand now that he had to accept these casual touches as nothing but comfortable, companionable kindnesses? He felt sick and selfish, finding himself troubled, and made himself smile as he gazed up a moment before looking away again.

"Let's go see it, then," the Titan rumbled warmly, tapping a destination on the starchart display, then dragging his finger across the screen. A few adjustments and the ship continued zooming through space.

"Let's heat up some of the food from earlier and watch something to pass the time? Hm?" Declan suggested, pushing himself out of his seat and pointing towards the induction cooktop.

"You get food ready, Ghost can go through archived films with you, and I'll go pull the bed apart and get it set up."

A flurry of activity later and Declan was leaning back in one of the two chairs, rocking back and forth, pushing off from a boot propped on a table leg while he talked about a time he and a squad of Guardians descended deep into the tunnels under the surface of the moon hunting a Hive witch. He gestured, acted out firing guns, talked about a massive sword he found, had Ghost play a recording of the banshee shrieks the Hive witches did. It was an animated conversation, free of awkwardness despite the misunderstandings they insisted upon.

Later, Declan and Aoba kicked back in the cockpit and watched a film of Aoba's choosing displayed on the windows after the solar shutters were closed, Declan mesmerized. He didn't watch things so much as read them, so it was a treat to share in the experience. Afterwards, they slept, Declan having made a point to separate the two mattresses by about six inches or so, just so Aoba wouldn't feel uncomfortable being so close. It wasn't half as warm as it could have been, but Declan wanted to behave sensitively to the other man's preferences.

It went only like that for a few days, the two talking and entertaining themselves, often joined by the Allmate and Ghost, sometimes stopping to gaze into space as they passed something of interest. Finally, they made it to Venus, and Declan took his time treating Aoba to a fly-over of the common territories taht were "safe"; at least compared to the rest. Beautiful white temples and ruins, massive architecture, giant statues of long-forgotten goddesses, magnificent jungles, colorful pools and sand flats. Truly an alien landscape, and unforgettable. For the sake of ease, Declan landed the ship on the Shattered Coast, the ship windows turned towards the trio of colossal blue-fire volcanoes off in the roiling sea, the Ishtar academy a short Sparrow ride away.

"Welcome to Venus," Declan murmured with a smile as he adjusted his helmet and checked his oxygen levels. "You're welcome to explore around this area as much as you like while I'm gone on patrol. It's twelve hours rotating through three sectors. Once I get the all clear, you and I can go to the academy. We'll go look around some highlight places I've picked periodically so we don't go stir crazy looking through the archives. You be sure you have your helmet on any time you leave the ship, alright? Any sign of trouble, you get on the ship and call me right away."

‘This was his punishment’, Aoba came to think over those passing of days. Punishment for what, one would like to know—Desire especially—but Aoba could only provide something vague like ‘not being honest from the start’. The ship was a small space and kind of claustrophobic, but only in ways that had Aoba seeking the cockpit or the observation window in order to see the stars. The only burden of Declan’s company was the one Aoba weighed in his own heart: to be so comfortable and in enjoyment of the Guardian’s presence, to still want to uphold every promise he’d made him, and yet to know that their friendship, however intimate, would never encompass those mysterious levels of emotional intimacy that separated friends (with or without benefits) from lovers.

The nights were the closest thing to troublesome, sleeping faced towards Declan’s mattress lest a turned back be taken as a lack of trust. With eyes closed and an arm looped around Ren’s curled-up body (as if he were a child, lest he accidentally reach out to someone else instead), Aoba was all too aware of the Guardian’s nearness for a least a little while before he fell asleep each ‘night’ that it was time to do so.

Arriving at Venus was somewhere strangely between bizarre and…mistakenly mundane. Sometimes it didn’t look much different from the overgrown places on Earth that he’d been shown, as if their long flight had taken them right back around to the only planet he’d ever known. But then he’d look again and the architecture was too strange, the clouds too thick, everything all the wrong colors between the lush greenery. He’d remind himself that in his day, Venus was just some alien planet off in space, and Earth was all humans had to call home.

Twelve hours without Declan only sounded difficult as worrying about the Titan would be. So what if he was a capable warrior with Ghost and immortality as backup? Surely he could still hurt, still feel pain. Could a soul as kind and giving as his not suffer upon dying?

It almost made Aoba want to ask what it was like. Dying. But he didn’t, ultimately deciding that he didn’t want to know. He’d find out in his own time, he supposed. Or would he? He had to stay a Chosen One in order to visit Declan’s world, which mean that he was also functionally immortal. Age couldn’t claim him. But what about illness or injury? …He put aside that train of thought after only a little indulgence.

“Understood,” he answered the instructions given as Declan prepared to leave. “Be safe, alright? It doesn’t matter to me how quickly Ghost can heal you, I don’t want to think about you getting hurt out there.”

"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.

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.”

"Hm?" the pale man hummed, looking up slowly from where he'd been spacing out and open-eyed dozing against the bookshelf. Reaching up and rubbing at his eyes with one hand, Declan yawned and nodded, reaching out for the book. A moment later he was sitting cross-legged with the book in his lap, pale eyes scanning the pages.

"I'm sorry I'm not very talkative right now. I didn't think I'd be so tired after the trip and patrol," he admitted, glancing up at Aoba with an apologetic smile. "I don't have another patrol, though, so we can just explore and research. I look forward to a shower, though," he sighed, stretching this way and that until his spin crackled softly, a relieved sound passing his lips.

"If you come across any books about Japanese military history and culture, I'd like to read that, too."

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