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.

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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’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.

[nopunchline]

"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.

[scrappyblue]

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.”

[nopunchline]

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."

[scrappyblue]

‘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.”

[nopunchline]

"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.

[scrappyblue]

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.”

[nopunchline]

"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."

[scrappyblue]

“Aa, sure. I’ll see what we can find. And you’re still good company when you’re quiet, like I said. Besides…I had the time to take a nap. I’m guessing you didn’t,” Aoba answered warmly, flicking one hand in an idle ‘don’t worry about it’ gesture before heading off again. Thankfully it was much less ‘come across’ and more ‘just ask Ren to scour whatever directories it was he had remote access to’. Still, even when he had a couple more books under his arm, Aoba asked a few more questions of his own and hunted a bit further. The next time he returned to the Guardian, he plopped down to the floor at Declan’s side with just space enough between them for the little stack of books he deposited there. All of them were of the requested subject barring the one Aoba had ultimately picked out for himself, trying not to feel too dubious about it all. Letters he’d never learned somehow arranged themselves, as all others, into words that he could read as he flipped open a book of Greek and Roman myths, making no more commentary than that of his presence. If Declan was too tired to really speak, that was okay, just as it had always been.

[nopunchline]

Pale eyes looked up, full lips curling in a tired smile and nod of acknowledgment. He'd been reading, going through the book, gazing curiously at the occasional illustrations and photographs. He was drifting in and out, head bobbing, eyelids drooping. He tried rousing himself, taking one of the other books to read, but eventually he slipped, knowing the area was safe, patrolled by other Guardians, and comfortable in the company he kept. Before long, Declan was tilted slightly to one side, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Hair covered most of his face and he clung to his propped up rifle with one looped arm, the other hand hugging the book to his chest.

He didn't sleep terribly long, maybe thirty minutes, before he jerked awake with a soft snort and sat up, looking around worriedly.

"Was I out long? I'm sorry. I'll go look through the archives too. The Speaker gave me a keypass for some classified documents the last time I came here. I'll see if it still works. I completely forgot."

[scrappyblue]

Hadn’t Declan said Guardians didn’t really need to sleep? It left Aoba wondering what might change that, for Declan to be so visibly tired. Though Aoba dutifully did his best to read some of his own book, he either wasn’t a very good reader or it just wasn’t particularly well-written, reading like summaries of various stories than actual engaging tellings of them. Maybe if he asked Ren and Ghost to search sections a bit more fictional than historical…. Except all he really did was watch Declan doze, wondering at the dichotomy of it. The book suited him better than the rifle. Aoba could just imagine him in one of those stereotypical fancy studies, in a big plush chair by a crackling fireplace, a thin pair of reading glasses perched on his nose. Declan probably didn’t need glasses at all, but it completed the imagery. This gentle giant of his deserved all the peacetime and books to read that he wanted. He’s not the least bit ours, thanks, came the grousing reminder. Declan startled awake not long after that, prompting Aoba to rouse a puzzled look from his own undeserved daydreams. “Classified documents? Why would we need to get into those?”

[nopunchline]

If Declan were more eloquent, he may have explained the not needing sleep in regards to health restrictions. It was simply that Guardians could run themselves to death if necessary. It didn't mean they didn't get tired. Only that per their general immortality, they didn't strictly need it.

Fortunately Aoba was spared that grim topic.

"Well," he murmured, pressing the heels of his hands into both eyes with a groan. "I was thinking, maybe your Chosen Ones going all over the universe and time and space were trying to keep it fairly quiet? Or the study of the phenomenon was kept under wraps because places like Clovis Bray and the like would try to manipulate the knowledge and use it themselves. There's lots of reasons it could potentially be in there. It's worth checking, if I can."

[scrappyblue]

Definitely one of those things that made perfect sense once Declan explained his thoughts…and gave Aoba another degree of reason to be so grateful for the Guardian’s help. The ideas were all his. The resources were all his. Aoba himself had been—pretty useless in all regards. It was weeks later and he’d probably still just be stumbling around at random portals if he’d been left to his own devices.

“Alright, I get it. Good idea,” he nodded. “And if you’re going to do that, I’ll check in with Ren. I can’t let you do all the work on my behalf!”

But he was—lighthearted, saying even that. He didn’t feel like a burden or inconvenience or anything like that anymore. He just wanted to contribute equally to the team he imagined they’d become.

[nopunchline]

"That'll help, spreading it out a little between us. Ghost can scan through things incredibly fast, but there's almost all of human knowledge in this place. Granted some of the data is corrupted and irretrievable, but it's still more than we could find anywhere else. The only people that might have more information are The Nine, and...we don't really know anything about them. I don't think I have the kind of money necessary to get that information," Declan mused, eyes sliding skyward for a moment as he calculated.

"I might. I haven't bought anything in a long time from Xur. I'll ask him about it when we get to the Reef, if we don't find what we're looking for here. The Sovs might have something, too. There's plenty of options still," the Titan stated, reassuring himself as much as Aoba.

A little while later and the lot of them were all pouring over ancient texts, files, scrolls; anything they could find with any measure of possible help. Declan even went over the details about a stone tablet he found in a case in the restricted section. His pass still worked - evidently the Speaker trusted him not to do anything untoward - and he came away with a few mentions of people capable of "traversing time and space by force of will alone", but nothing concrete. No mention of Chosen Ones. There was a Mighty One, and he brought that reference back to Aoba, holding out a heavy book, whose pages were actually thin gold tablets etched with writing that looked more like the wiring paths ona circuit board.

"Does 'Mighty One' ring any bells? This book says there was a portal-walker like you wa~y way back. Before you were born I think. Last known recorded CE 1994. Seems he was a time and space traveler. Encountered an agent of the Darkness long before we ever knew about it."

[scrappyblue]

Whatever strange writing it might have been, just as all other languages that were put in front of him, Aoba understood it as intuitively as his native Japanese. It was such a strange thing, maybe because it was so unobtrusive. Declan didn’t know Japanese, but somehow, they conversed. Aoba didn’t even rightly know what language either of them were speaking. He couldn’t have taught any of them to properly read the languages in front of him, either, because it wasn’t like he suddenly knew the alphabet or the grammar or anything like that. When the whole was in front of him, he simply could read it. “Doesn’t sound like anything I know,” Aoba answered at first, running his fingers along the odd writing. “It does stand out that the title is so similar, though. Hm. Let me think….” The Guide’s message. What had it all said? Shock did a lot of messing with one’s ability to process information at the time, and it had been weeks now since Aoba had heard it. “…I suppose there’s a chance he’s a Chosen One that just called himself that instead. There’s supposed to be all kinds of Chosen Ones, or at least, that’s what the Guide’s message implied. Originally there was only one, to combat some kind of evil, but that evil is defeated now. Instead there’s this paradox where instead of one Chosen for the mission, there’s countless Chosen for no mission at all.” It was too much of a leap to think that the Darkness was the same evil the “real” Chosen had to face—and wouldn’t it already be defeated if that were the case? Or could that kind of thing still be in the future somehow, despite Aoba being a paradox Chosen One now? Ugh, time travel.

[nopunchline]

"Well, it's the best we have so far. I'll have Ghost copy everything from this and any related texts. Aside from that, he hasn't found anything and neither have I. Did you find anything?" he asked, carefully closing the massive book, holding it up for a moment before Ghost teleported it back to where they found it.

A couple more hours of searching yielded nothing additional, and the massive load of information Ghost collected would take him time to parse through. So far as Declan could see, they had exhausted their options at the academy.

"There's another place I'll check tomorrow when we're out exploring. It's a long shot, but best to use all avenues. Anyways, you ready to head back?" he asked, pointing to a few stacks of books that Ghost scanned the titles of, syncing with the academy digital archives to download copies of the literature. Mostly Japanese history, a few things about cooking, and a book about birds. He liked the pictures, having gotten distracted looking up cockatoos.

When they headed out, Declan stopped on a hill looking out towards the coast, pausing for them both to watch the skyline.

"You know a single day to night and back on Venus takes 5,832 hours? It's the strangest thing to think about how time is always the same, but the events occurring in it vary so dramatically," the Titan mused while looking over his shoulder at Aoba for a moment, glance more meaningful than intended. He made some unintelligible noise before he started the Sparrow up again and sped back to the ship. Once inside, he peeled all his armor off in a hurry, turning the temperature in the ship down to cool his sweaty body. The jungle temperatures and humidity were the worst. Beautiful as the planet was, Declan much preferred cooler places. He very much disliked feeling sticky.

"I need a shower...I probably smell like canned ham," he muttered, sniffing himself dubiously while plucking at the thin fabric of his underarmor.

[scrappyblue]

Well…no wonder the sky hadn’t seemed to change at all despite the number of hours that had passed. Ren broke it down for Aoba a little more than that, too: a Venusian day was actually longer than a Venusian year, due to its planetary rotation compared to its revolution around the sun. More things to make Aoba’s head hurt. To his credit though, his head hurt because he understood it enough to appreciate how complicated it all really was, even if the actual permutations of complexity itself got a bit overwhelming.

Once they were back at the ship, Declan’s complaints gave Aoba a moment’s pause as he considered himself in return. He didn’t have twelve hours patrol grime built up on him, but the jungle heat had hardly treated him more kindly.

“Go on and take one, then,” Aoba snickered. He couldn’t have rightly explained why he found it charming to watch the Guardian fidget so, though he far more wanted Declan to be at ease again. “I’ll go after you. I think I’m a little better off, but not by much. This cloak of mine doesn’t offer that much shade.”

[nopunchline]

Glancing Aoba's way with an expression that said 'Are you sure?' before he nodded and accepted without fussing. Usually he would insist the other man go first, but this time he really wanted to just spread out on the flex-tile floor and let the grime and aches go down the drain.

And...maybe...do that thing Mac talked about sometimes...

...Ehh...

Shaking his head free of the thought for the time being, Declan made a sound of gratitude and peeled off his underarmor top well before even getting to the room, his skin looking like wet marble as he turned the corner into their shared sleeping and bathing space. A minute later he was reclining on the shower bench, head back and eyes closed, letting water and steam do their jobs after he'd soaped down. Once he didn't feel that a clogged toilet was cleaner than himself, he propped himself up enough to look down at his body, feeling extremely detached. He'd read some curious things in one of the Japanese history books that got him thinking about himself the way he sometimes did after conversations with his too-descriptive and somewhat vulgar friend, or when he caught something on the television he thought a bit 'risque'. Should he be more self-aware? Was it unhealthy, like Mac said, that he didn't bother with those things?

Being in close quarters with someone he had to admit to himself he was attracted to made him curious. Granted, he sort of expected things to just happen on their own, and suddenly felt very ignorant in regards to his body. Prodding himself didn't really do anything.

...How did you know if things were broken or not?

...Well...he wasn't going to ask Ghost, that was for sure.

[scrappyblue]

While Declan went to shower, Aoba finally went about prying off all his outer layers, himself. Unused (thank god) weapons detached and set aside, cloak and connecting gear pulled off, everything stripped down to the lower layers to better appreciate the cool air inside the ship. He even adjusted his ponytail, shifting it higher up the back of his head to get as much hair off the back of his neck as he could.

He considered defrosting a snack for the two of them, but decided that was best left until he was clean. If Venus had any kind of weird biological contaminants, he figured he would have been warned, so it was mostly just a matter of ‘don’t handle food with dirty hands’. In this case, the hands extended to everything, since that was just how gross he felt.

Ignorant to the crisis of self-image that Declan was suddenly experiencing, Aoba had Ren remotely wire the music from his headphones through the ship speakers. The electric beats of Goatbed began to pulse, a comfortable background noise as Aoba opened up one of Ren’s downloaded transcripts and gave reading up on the so-called ‘Mighty One’ another go.

[nopunchline]

For all that it was purposefully vague, the references were soon clear between what Ren, Ghost, and Aoba pieced together. The Mighty One was the original Chosen One that caused the paradox. His efforts bought Earth more time, but also disrupted the original layout of portals. The only known maps had been taken by the humans that left Earth in mass exodus whom eventually evolved into the Awoken. Any other records were destroyed, though certainly not by the Ishtar collective; they had wanted to collect all knowledge in the universe, but someone came in and deliberately wiped the sparse remaining portal maps.

As best he could figure, Ghost suggested they continue the search in the Reef. The royal family would know about the maps, even if they were no longer in their possession. Bread crumbs.

While the others labored over academic questions, Declan's were more carnal. He tried to rouse himself manually, only to be mildly disgusted by the act bereft of context. When he tried imagining a different scenario, visualizing more of Aoba's body than he'd seen casually, pretending on a wild whim that the man were in the shower with him? Then the Titan had to panic over what to do with a sudden, slow boiling erection, since "jerking off" was too distressing because he'd gotten to that point being lecherous and inappropriate. Masturbation wasn't necessary, he screeched at himself internally, mentally flogging himself for the indecency of it all. Aoba would be so upset! He shouldn't have imagined those things, shouldn't have pretended for even a moment.

He was aching and miserable by the time he finally crept guiltily from the shower to slump into the pilot seat. He felt so uncomfortable in his own skin and desperately widhed he hadn't kept opening that door a little further every time he got curious. Even though he was mostly flaccid by then, to him it felt like at any moment Aoba might comment on his MASSIVE AROUSAL. Of course in his baggy sweats nothing looked out of the ordinary, but Declan certainly felt it.

He just hoped he could think of something else enough to banish the rest, immediately pulling up a general Japanese culture book. Surely talk of festivals and shrines would be a goid distraction...

[scrappyblue]

Ren and Ghost's assistance was invaluable. Aoba found he read through the script rather better than he'd managed with the myths, maybe because it was so much more relevant to his situation, but the two constructs still made headway far faster than he would have on his own.

It seemed... impossible. Countless worlds and times, but Earth was the relevant one. The Darkness was the ancient foe so offhandedly dismissed in the Guide's message. But then was it really defeated? The records came from the past, but the Darkness was here now, so somewhere through the portals it must have been defeated in the future...?

Headache. But also promising. The Darkness WOULD be defeated, Aoba choose to think. Declan's hopes would pay off, even if they couldn't be quite sure of the route it would take to get there....

He was engrossed enough he almost missed Declan slumping by them, but then the availability of the shower reminded him of how much he wanted it. Asking Ghost to catch Declan up on what they'd discovered, he made his move on the shower with a fresh set of under-gear.

Could've just shared, Desire grumbled after the water was running. He was unexpectedly louder than Aoba cared for.

It's not like this is a locker room. Besides... that would be more unkind to him than anything.

Level with me here, Reason. You really think the big guy just wants something physical? Do you seriously think after everything we've heard from him that he's the 'friends with benefits' type?

And here came the problem with intrusive thoughts having a complete consciousness of their own behind them. The nagging aspect went on, giving voice to some underlying current where they'd somehow become the same again, despite neither truly noticing.

Aoba noticed when his blood flow started going a little too south, though. And then a LOT too south. And then, he just didn't want to deal with it. Unlike Declan, though, he had other options quite literally complaining at him.

They switched. Desire didn't stop complaining, but Reason backed away as the other took hold in all ways and 'addressed' things for them. And when they were done, dried, and dressed, he let the other stay in front for a while.

Golden-eyed, Aoba slid into the copilot seat, leaning back and kicking a foot up in a place relatively devoid of sensitive controls and crossing his legs.

[nopunchline]

While Aoba showered and handled things the way Declan should have, the Titan listened to things explained to him by the two constructs. Pulling up the archives copied by them, he started going through the information and trying to arrange a more coherent timeline. In the end, the only thing he knew for sure was that being a Chosen One was terrifying and not limited to adults; the one mentioned in the writing was just a young boy.

Shaking his head and placing a few calls to contacts across the system, Declan arranged a meeting with the Sovs and got a line on where Xur might be lurking over the next couple of weeks. By the time Aoba settled into the other seat, the Awoken figured he had a pretty solid itinerary for them, and was optimistic about their options.

"I've got us a meeting with the Queen while we in the Reef. Hopefully her brother won't be in court at the time but...he usually is," Declan sighed, shifting a bit in his seat to look over at his companion.

"Are you hungry? I was thinking about heating something up. Ghost said he found a movie he thought we'd like. He said it was extremely popular pre-Golden Age. The Notebook? He said it was already a classic by your time, so maybe too old?"

[scrappyblue]

“Ah, right. Thought about making a snack for us, but figured that better wait until after showering,” Desire answered for them, briefly omitting pronouns in a more natural flow of their shifting identity, but his body language and slightly deeper, more casual tone of his voice still revealed him as the aspect in the driver’s seat. But, for a change, there was little in the way of ulterior motives for him. He’d helped Reason out, but now he just wanted to be out. Be the one in charge of their body as they moved about, do something perfectly normal like eat…and watch a movie? Sure, why the hell not. Desires encompassed the little things in life just as much as they did the more carnal, controversial ones. He even only gave Ren a little flick of his fingers in a ‘hey, howarya’ sort of wave when he caught the Allmate staring, acknowledging but not (deliberately) antagonizing. “Can’t say I’ve heard of the movie, but sure, I’m game.”

And now, the non-canon

[scrappyblue]

Could've just shared, Desire grumbled after the water was running. He was unexpectedly louder than Aoba cared for. It's not like this is a locker room. Besides... that would be more unkind to him than anything. Level with me here, Reason. You really think the big guy just wants something physical? Do you seriously think after everything we've heard from him that he's the 'friends with benefits' type? And here came the problem with intrusive thoughts having a complete consciousness of their own behind them. The nagging aspect went on, giving voice to some underlying current where they'd somehow become the same again, despite neither truly noticing. I don’t—I don’t know! You said he was willing to ‘compromise’ with you! Yeah, and did you catch the parts where he talked about friendship and care? I know you were zoned out at the time, but he also used the word ‘affections’. I mean maybe we’ve never actually been in a fuckbuddies scenario, but I’m pretty damn sure one wouldn’t be as sweet as he sounds when he’s talking. And then Desire hit him with worse than just words. Suddenly came imagery. Declan in the shower with him, touching him with those large, always-gentle hands. Applying those pouting lips of his to things other than poetic words and reassurances. Crude though Desire was, his imagination between them didn’t warp the Guardian’s nature away from anything they’d learned of him. And when Aoba found himself crumbling, sagging onto the shower bench with heat low in his stomach and ache building in his groin, it was harder and harder to just Reason away everything Desire was throwing at him. His baser yearnings shot holes through every excuse he had to keep them at bay. He was clinging to threads of denial instead of just speaking up and resolving it all. Finally, he gave in. He couldn’t face it himself, but he gave in. So, golden-eyed, Desire left the water running behind them as he stepped out of the shower and to the doorway of the bunker/bath space, wet feet unquiet upon the metal. He stood in said doorway, gripping it with one hand, hair slicked to his skin by water and with more of it dripping down the lines of his body and pooling at his feet. The blue shades that Declan so admired were mirrored in the thatch between Aoba’s legs, which only drew all the more attention to the swollen interest he was sporting there. “Oi, big guy,” he called across the space, steam billowing from behind him. “I want to talk compromises.”

[nopunchline]

"What's th--" Declan leaned and turned to look around the seat, eyes curious, then horrified, then curious again, then horrified again. He'd wanted to give full attention to the other man, then realized he was naked. Then realized he was naked, again, which was immediately followed by mortified guilt over looking at all. His pale face whipped around and stared forward, offering half a dozen prayers to the Traveler because his body was not prepared to see exactly what he'd been pretending to see not fifteen minutes ago.

"What are you saying? I'm sorry? I didn't mean to look! I didn't...know you were...there's...there's towels."