orendalogs | IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!

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 ]

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"Well, if there is, you know as much as I do," Declan answered with a weary sigh. He nodded in regards to it being a shorter trip. He'd give them a little over half a day, time to shower on Venus, then sleep on the trip there while Ghost and Ren managed the ship's autopiloted flight. That way they'd be clean and rested, and make it to the Reef with just enough time to get to the throneroom.

"I can tell you what I know about the Sov's and the Awoken, at least." And he did. The walk back to the Sparrow, the ride, and a few hours after showering and the ship being launched again were filled with as much history and personal experience as Declan could piece together with Ghost for interjections. He talked about Mara Sov, Uldren Sov, Techeun Witches, the great pilgrimage taken by humanity that eventually created the Awoken, the Awoken relationship with some of the Fallen houses, and his own long and complicated with the royal family. He detailed how he and Mac and a handful of other Guardians went to them for help years ago and were eventually pressed to help the Awoken in return. He talked about his mission to get the head of a Vex Gate Lord, of traveling through a portal not unlike the one's Aoba used, ending up somewhere between space and time, isolated from the passage of years, a world inverted, and how they stopped something dark, formless, and indescribable. He had no idea what the Vex were worshiping, only that it couldn't be allowed to get to Earth.

By the time they were ready for sleeping, Declan was mentally and physically exhausted and grateful for the opportunity to just collapse onto his mattress and bury his face in his pillow. He said goodnight, and left Aoba to think on all the information he'd gotten. Then, hours later, Declan woke up to Ghost prodding him to answer a hail from the Awoken.

"Aoba! Aoba, we're here," he hissed, gently patting the other man awake before plodding out to slide into the pilot seat with a yawn.

"Copy that. This is Guardian Declan requesting permission to dock. We're here for an audience with the Queen and restocking supplies."

"Supplies?" a slightly accented voice crackled over the comms. Guardians didn't typically need anything other than munitions. Sometimes the odd personal salvage trade goods...

"I'm carrying civilian cargo," the Titan clarified.

"Hm. Permission granted...Welcome back to the Reef, Guardian."

"Thank you, Emissary Venj."

"...Just Petra, Guardian. Petra, out."

When Aoba finally joined him, Declan nodded out the window at the massive space storms, the brilliant amethyst nebula, the sparkling space dust, and the colossal hulls of various derelict ships fastened together into the ever-changing "world" of the Awoken.

"Welcome to the Reef."

And to think Aoba had found his own story strange and sometimes inconceivable. One long tale later, suddenly his circumstances were the tame and unexciting version of time/space travel. Though he barely understood the tale, he took away a few things at least: mostly an explanation as to how Declan had taken his bizarre claims so easily in stride and had come so easily to his aid.

His dreams afterwards were dark and formless things as well. When Declan startled him awake, he had a fleeting thought that the destructive entity had been him all along before the dream was gone and forgotten, and the only thing behind his thoughts was a muttering that there were nicer ways to wake a person on. Predictably, Desire had some pretty inappropriate definitions of ‘nice’.

Aoba was a little slower to get out of bed than Declan but somehow refrained from flopping right back into it, giving himself a few shakes before heading towards the cockpit. He heard the exchanged words and was mustering a remark about him being cargo before he got his groggy eyes open and up enough to see more than his feet and the careful placement of his steps. Ren was perched upon the spaceship equivalent of a dashboard, since he’d been alert all the while with Ghost, but Aoba only saw a moment before his eyes found everything that was past his fluffy silhouette.

Surprise caught in his throat and rendered him all but mute, Aoba stilling in place with one hand on the back of Declan’s chair and the other on the back of his own. (It wasn’t really his when he was just a passenger and not a proper copilot, but at least for the while he’d come to think of it as ‘his’ for simplicity’s sake.)

“…amazing…” he breathed, robbed of all other words than that.

Pale eyes glanced over, Declan smile soft and warm. It pleased him that Aoba was awed by the beauty of the Reef's organized chaos. The ships moving about, rising like ghosts from the magenta dust and silently disappearing again, the myriad blinking proximity lights on vast metal mountains thrusting out of patched together hulls, the shadows of people behind massive windows set on giant community hubs. There was nothing small or weak about the Awoken empire, and the tenacity of the people made Declan proud to be part of them, even if he wasn't formally accepted.

He nodded and gestured occasionally, pointing out different places of interest; the markets, the academies, the central web of the Techeun halls, and the fortified mass where the Queen resided at the center of it all.

Drifting casually, Declan eventually turned the Mariner towards the Vestian Outpost, the primary dock for Guardians visiting the Reef. Once off the ship he continued to gesture towards points of interest, things set up to make it more useful for Guardians assisting the Awoken and vice cversa, like the bounty board and banking robot. He nodded towards a large tent home set up to the far side where a large, spindly figure chatted with Guardians and locals alike. A Fallen, friendly. And then Petra Venj standing on a platform with numerous Awoken soldiers, overseeing the comings and goings.

They couldn't gawk for too long, though, working on a tight schedule set by the royals, so Declan introduced Aoba to the one-eyed woman called Petra, and discussed going into the city. She was curt but polite and professional with Aoba. She was significantly warmer with Declan, though only out of familiarity, not personal interest. The Titan seemed fairly comfortable with her as well. Friends, in a sense, but not the movie-watching type.

In short order Aoba and Declan were escorted through the city to the royal seat, bustled hurriedly with little time to gaze about. They could save it for later.

When they were put before the Queen, it may not have been what Aoba expected. The Awoken were not a glossy and decorative people; they lived hard lives eked out in the fringes of space closest to the reach of the Darkness. They built an empire out of the refuse of humanity, and while obviously very, very cultured and cunning, they looked a bit savage compared to the people of the Last City, their clothing made of rough leathers, decorated with furs and feathers. Mara Sov lounged on her throne looking ever so superior and deadly as a coiled serpent, and her darker brother in his black gear stalked around the steps and throne like a hungry panther eager to rip out the throats of anyone his sister allowed him to dispose of.

"What is it now, Guardian?" Uldren spat, irritated for no other reason than he always seemed to be.

"Brother...is that any way to treat our guests?" Mara drawled, voice sultry, eyes half-open as she watched Declan and Aoba with an unreadable expression. Uldren said nothing, though he glared at the two men who dared waste his sister's time. Clearly the siblings saw things very differently.

"You seek information that was taken during the exodus," Mara stated, arching a brow slightly, glancing between the two men. "Maps, and charts."

"Yes, your grace. The academy referenced information the Awoken may have in their possession regarding the locations of various wormholes."

"Portal, you mean?" Uldren scoffed, peering up with orange eyes like smoldering coals.

"The semantics are irrelevant. We have no such records," Mara replied, and Declan slumped visibly. Another dead end. Uldren looked pleased to see the efforts of the two stymied.

"But the Nine had copies of those records," the Queen added idly, lips quirking in the faintest of satisfied smiles. Her brother turned with an incredulous, almost pained look, unwilling to give Aoba and Declan anything to work with and frustrated that his sister would be so benevolent.

"Xur is still skulking about somewhere. Go talk to him<," Uldren bit, earning a slow squint from Declan, who was looking uncharacteristically bristled. The Titan cooled, however, when Mara turned and addressed Aoba directly.

"Is what I've heard correct? Are you truly from before the Golden Age?"

Aoba found himself with a strange set of thoughts as he took in what tour of the Reef he could be shown, given their timetable. Technically speaking, the City itself was closer to Midorijima in terms of architecture, what with its tightly packed buildings and the remainder of humanity eking out their survival there…but something about the Reef had him far more nostalgic. The Districts had never been made of the skeletons of ships, had never been engulfed in such a richly colored nebula, but there was a ghost of familiarity even so. Exiles from Earth, living and surviving as they could.

It was inaccurate on many levels, but the comparison existed in his head for a few moments at least: that the City was more like Platinum Jail in that regard, shadowed by the Traveler instead of Oval Tower, and the Reef here on the fringes stood for the Old Resident Districts instead.

Even the Sovs themselves were closer to something familiar than the things he imagined when thinking of royalty, be they queens or emperors. They were wild, somehow, and he wouldn’t have been surprised to see people cut of similar cloth heading some of the more prominent Ribsteez gangs back home.

Didn’t mean he felt completely comfortable standing there, though. After all, it wasn’t as if he played at the Rib turf wars. But, still. It was better than being surrounded by finery and supremely formal manners, he thought.

“Yes, your grace,” he managed when he was personally addressed, having been sure to make note of that bit of address. He might not have been made for formal court, but he could pay attention to proper titles at least. “Maybe not long before, but my time hasn’t met the Traveler yet.”

"Interesting," the woman hummed, Uldren watching the exchange impatiently. Declan was careful not to interrupt, and as respectful as ever.

"We wish to speak to you. Alone. If you would accept the invitation, we would be honored to have you as a guest."

Declan looked up, glancing between Mara, Uldren, and Aoba, before offering a barely perceptible shrug and nod to the latter. If Aoba felt comfortable enough, the Titan didn't see a problem. For as eerie and savage as the Awoken seemed, they were actually extremely noble and loyal, and Declan was on good terms. If nothing else, he trusted Mara.

"We ask that you visit before leaving the Reef. Speak with the Techeuns. Now go. Xur is unpredictable at best, and you wouldn't want to miss him. We do not know when he will return," the Queen nodded, and Declan bowed. Uldren gave little more than a curt nod, narrowing his eyes at Aoba briefly before raising a hand in vague gesture of dismissal. Clearing his throat softly, Declan nodded over his shoulder for Aoba to follow, and they departed.

As soon as the throneroom doors closed behind them, Declan released a held breath and turned his eyes on the other man with an apologetic look.

"Sorry...Those situations make me nervous..."

There was an initial moment where Aoba, for the life of him, couldn’t imagine why royalty would want to speak to him personally. It was just a kneejerk reaction, though, since of course the moment after that it was more of a, ‘why not’? Maybe time travel wasn’t as outlandish a concept to the Awoken as Aoba had once considered it to be, but he hadn’t exactly been tripping over other people who were also from the past as he was.

The resurrected Guardians didn’t count, for obvious reasons.

He glanced automatically up at Declan, caught the tiny gestures as easily as if they had been more obviously emoted, and returned his attention to Mara with a clear nod of his own. The idea was a little unnerving, but she’d helped them, even if only in the passing of a lead. Not to mention that as much as her dark, scowling brother plainly disapproved, it was the queen who was asking, and it probably would have been rude to refuse.

It was a relief to follow Declan back out after offering a bow of his own (at the waist, arms at his sides, and very unpracticed). The meeting, though brief, had been intense and surreal. His friend’s admission of his nerves made for a convenient distraction, allowing Aoba to chuckle a bit and reach up to pat his arm.

“I don’t blame you. It was pretty unnerving. Sounds like we better hurry and look for this Xur guy, though.”

"I could...probably contact Xur for a private meeting, honestly," Declan remarked as they moved on, the Titan touching Aoba's arm gently on occasion, guiding him through a maze of hallways, welded docks, scaffolding and other paths.

"He's always been unduly indulgent with me, though I don't really know why." Of course he had no idea that his being respectful and polite as reason enough for some people to like him more than others. Favoritism aimed at Declan came because unlike many people whose decency was contingent on what use another person was to them, the Titan was universally respectful. Those in power tended to observe that and take it to heart. Xur was no different, and while his will was not entirely his own ( or so he said ), either he or the Nine themselves seemed to favor Declan to some degree.

"But if he's here now, may as well catch him. Here we are," the Guardian paused before a large ventilation shaft, the spiral gate opening and closing, admitting people who used the vent as a shortcut to other places. It clearly wasn't used for aeration at least. Stepping forward, the metal panels rasped open, and the two men walked through the dimly lit tunnel. People inhabited the space, some more questionable than others. Mostly what went on in the shaft was black market dealing, and that was precisely what Xur did. After a short span of weaving between small stands and blankets laden with trinkets and ship junk, they reached the dead-end of the tunnels where a tall yet hunched figure stood in the shadows, whispering to someone whose race was hidden by their gear.

Eventually the dealing were done and Declan raised a hand in greeting to the smuggler, who looked up and was precisely 100% terrifying. There was no identifiable face in the darkness of the creature's hood, just two glowing yellow spots that may have been eyes, and a writhing mass of blackish-green tentacles. Despite having no discernible face, he spoke very clearly and with a certain degree of eloquence.

"Hello, Guardian. Always a pleasure. And to what does this humble Agent of the Nine owe the honor?" he dragged out the last word, turning slowly to face Aoba, head tilting just slightly.

"The planeswalker. An honor to meet you," the creature hunched even more in an awkward bow. "Word, gets around," he added by way of vague explanation. "And the Nine are always listening."

"The Queen said the Nine might have information we're looking for. We're trying to get Aoba home as directly and safely as possible, but the star-charts the...the other planeswalkers used are all missing."

"Hm. I know of what you speak, Guardian. The charts were collected and destroyed. The Nine have long memories. I can get this information for you...are you prepared to pay the cost?"

"...I am." Declan answered before Aoba could comment, a hand raising to stave off any possible protests. He'd done the song and dance before.

"I will confer with the Nine and inform you of the price. It will be a while. I will contact you through the usual channels."

Declan nodded, then leaned over and whispered to Aoba.

"If there's any questions, or any odd thing you want, now's the time to ask. Xur has access to...pretty much everything ever."

Yep. Aoba jumped. One moment there he was, ushered along and wondering at how something the Queen had made sound urgent became the exact opposite when addressed a la Declan, as well as how the winding path they took through the stacked structures of the Reef made him think more and more of home—and then he was presented, when he’d thought he’d seen every race this time had to offer, with a person whose appearance was downright Lovecraftian. And Aoba had never read Lovecraft.

Well. At least ‘planeswalker’ was a better title than ‘Chosen One’. It was more descriptive, less…ostentatious. Still something that a simple guy like Aoba had no business being, but at least it wasn’t ‘Chosen’.

He listened, uncertainty, choking back his automatic protests that Declan did indeed have to silence, only to have nothing to say when the Guardian leaned in with that whisper. Aoba looked from his friend to the strange—Agent, but at being offered ‘pretty much everything ever’ he could think of nothing at all.

“Ah…no. No, we’ve asked for what I need. That’s enough for me,” he answered, not in a whisper but softly and deferring. If there was anything important they needed, he presumed Declan would have asked already, and as shady as everything around them seemed, Aoba didn’t want them to owe any more ‘costs’ than they had to.

To someone who heard and saw virtually everything, Declan and Aoba's attempts at polite whispers were quite audible, but Xur said nothing and merely observed. When askance was limited to the maps, he considered a little more thoughtfully, nodding once in agreement.

"Take care then. I'll be in contact shortly," the Jovian dismissed them gently, raising his head a bit to nod to another person waiting to trade, standing the acceptable distance away. The Titan nodded and waved Aoba along with him, taking his time walking out.

"I don't know how long he might take...But if he says shortly, he means it. Maybe a couple hours. Want to do anything, meanwhile? There's all sorts of food here, and there's going out into the Reef, too. Or we can just sit at the outpost and watch ships go by," he smiled, shrugging it off. He had nothing in particular planned that couldn't wait, after all. Any time spent with Aoba was well spent.

Well, it was fewer options than ‘pretty much everything’, but Aoba still floundered briefly. Meeting the Queen was over, just like that. Except for a personal visit later, whatever that entailed. And Xur had been found swiftly afterwards. It felt like they’d spent more time just walking from one meeting to another, then actually being in said meetings. …Well, that simplified his choices.

“Just sitting is fine,” he decided, idly looking around at a place so familiarly foreign. Maybe he just didn’t know how to be a tourist, since he’d never properly been one? Following Declan from place to place that the Guardian wanted to show him was easy and enjoyable, but being asked just drew blanks.

“…It’s the weirdest thing. The way everything’s built together, and the way people carry themselves…this is how the Old Resident Districts feel. We’re way out in the middle of space, but it feels closer to home than the City does.”

Time in the Reef was a strange thing, even for the Guardian, and the Awoken were not the sort of people to mull on things or waste their energy. Really, he was surprised they spent as much time as they did in the throneroom; especially with Uldren lurking about and rushing them. He understood completely what Aoba was saying when drawing comparisons, though.

"You know, some of the people here are the descendants of people from your home. Everyone is related somehow, in some small way, but it makes things stand out more when you think of it. Somewhere here, or on Earth or Mars, there's someone related to me, too." He paused, squinting a moment in thought before ducking his head with a shy chuckle, rubbing under his nose.

"We could be related," he laughed again, remembering an odd fact Mac had once told him about a handful of pedigree people in the past and how literally every human being could trace their ancestry back to at least one of them, once upon a time. Charlemagne, Genghis Khan, Alexander the Great, Nefertiti, and others.

"I think that's the one thing that sets Guardians apart from other people the most. Every person in the universe longs for family and belonging in some manner, but Guardians don't really have it anymore," he mused, passing out of the vent and turning towards the docks. It was actually a very short distance, and they were able to take up a spot sitting on the edge, feet dangling over, the nebula there around them, a thin, manufactured atmosphere between them and all of space. Very different from floating in the ship.

"We make friends and connections, sure, but it's only natural to want more. To feel more? Mac and I are related, genetically, though very distantly. But I think that knowledge is part of why we're close despite being so different. We just want proof of existence or something. You have real living proof of your life, memories of your city, memories of meals with people you love. We don't have that. We don't miss it, either. Not in the same way as someone that had something and lost it misses something. We miss it in the sense that we see other people have those things and wonder what it's like. I think maybe that's what some of us fight for; the promise that we'll get that chance at those things once the danger has passed..."

Evidently he was feeling very introspective. And verbose. Then again, he always felt a little more at ease in the Reef. Something about the very nature of the place made clinging to troubles seem trivial. Airing thoughts made room for more important things.

Declan could let his feet dangle. Aoba sat cross-legged. The view was incredible, but felt…less secure than the girded windows of the Mariner. Though he knew without thinking it that he was safe with Declan at his side (well within distance to grab him if he did a stupid thing like slip), it was similarly instinctive that he kept his legs up on solid dock. Just in case.

But although Declan’s introspective nature was no longer a surprise, it remained one in the sense that Aoba wondered gently at how his passing remark had prompted the Guardian to speak so. Ren had popped his head out of the smaller, gear-matching bag that Aoba carried him in for such excursions as these, and the man rubbed between his ears in idle contact as he listened to Declan speak.

“…Family is more than just who you’re related to, you know,” Aoba offered in turn when the Titan was done. “Family is important, but you don’t have to be defined by your blood.”

Turning his head, he considered the Guardian with a smile. “You’re…kind of a contradiction, Declan, do you know that? To talk about wanting to belong so much…if you and all the other Guardians don’t have connections like that, I can’t help but think the only thing stopping you is yourselves. Maybe the Traveler brought you back because you were the soldiers the world needed, like you said, but I don’t see why being soldiers should bar you from having the connections you’re looking for. Like…you just need to look a little harder, right here and now, instead of waiting for it all to be over.”

Now it was Aoba’s turn to ramble. He looked ahead, not even sure if he had a point, but allowing himself to answer Declan’s thoughts with his own.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re fighting a war the same way they did in the old times. You’re not all out on a front line waiting to win before you can come home. You come home after every mission. What stops a Guardian from having a family waiting for them, if not themselves?”

…Are you talking about yourself? Because it sounds like you’re talking about yourself.

Wait, what? No! Oh, no….

"Guilt," Declan replied quickly and easily, the corner of his mouth twitching in a weary, mirthless smile.

"Who really wants to wait behind while Guardians are out there risking themselves? What Guardian can juggle the responsibilities? I know some Guardians have put families together, adopted children, things like that. But on the whole, most Guardians don't believe it's right of them to put the weight of their lives on someone else's shoulders, so they stick to others in the same situation. But there are millions of born humans, and only a handful of Guardians in comparison," he nodded, leaning back and supporting his weight on his hands.

"There's a lot of polyamory," he remarked after a moment, frowning slightly. It wasn't that he disapproved, but it wasn't for him. Aoba's multiple personalities were as close as he was willing to get.

"And Guardians form family groups, in a sense. Like the Iron Lords. But it's still different. We tend to shy away from forming strong connections with the normal humans because they want normal lives and...we're anything but."

Somehow, despite suddenly second-guessing himself and the response he’d offered, Aoba heard Declan’s answer. It veered his thoughts back on course, thankfully, and he gave his other self a shove along the lines of ‘don’t distract me’ in a more pleading, please-don’t-mess-up-a-normal-conversation way.

It worked enough for Aoba to quietly settle himself back down, internally, and even chuff quietly at the end.

“So, ‘yourselves’ is the right answer. Guilt comes from the inside, not outside. Soldiers in the past had families, and you have each other, so I suppose I’m just…surprised? Maybe disappointed, for all of you, that there isn’t more crossover. Or maybe it’s just easy for me to talk, since I’m outside of it all.”

He wasn’t a Guardian or a normal human, if you wanted to be technical about it. Chosen One, planeswalker, whatever else it could be called….

"Oh, no, I'm not disagreeing. But there's also nothing to really do about it. It's only further complicated by the opinions normal people have of Guardians. Some people look at us like earthly deities. Some people think we're abominations. Most people are at least in awe of us to some degree, and that creates a divide. Positive or negative, those opinions make it even harder to connect," he thought back to when he and Aoba met in the bar, the way most people gave him a wide berth; and not just because of his unfairly earned reputation.

"When I think about it, though...I don't know what else there'll be when the fight is over. Most Guardians don't have fall-back plans or other jobs, you know? We don't exactly have time to focus on learning useful jobs outside of what we already do. Even me having the time I take with you is unusual. I can only do this much because I never take personal leave for anything. Thinking about it...what's a career soldier supposed to do after a war ends? In the past, soldiers had lived before they were in the military, but we're all born into it, so to speak. It's all we know."

"Between not having families and not having lives outside of the war, we're sort of pitiful."

It still seemed wrong, somehow. Well, ‘seemed’ nothing. It was wrong. And even if Guardians were too outlandish, too far apart from normal people to form families with them, how did guilt stop Guardians from forming families with each other? Was it really so impossible?

…And what did that say about all the…things Declan had said to him? Did that make it better that Aoba hadn’t corrected him about his own…potential interests? Even if Declan was the exception to the supposed rule….

Aoba hummed a low sound, still listening.

“I think it’s sad, yes, but I don’t think that’s the same as thinking you’re pitiful,” he countered gently, giving Declan a nudge with his elbow to try and make a light rib of it. “If you were brought back into being a Guardian already familiar with war and how to fight, then I bet you have other talents and interests you’ll only have to rediscover, too.”

He paused there, thinking, and finding a possibility quite swiftly. Aoba smiled again.

“…I can see you as a librarian, for starters.”

"Me?" Declan asked, arching a brow lowly and tilting his head to regard the other man. He couldn't see it, for a variety of reasons, but they all felt sort of small for how many times Aoba had disagreed. He wasn't exactly allowed to call himself stupid, for one, even if he knew he was a bit slow sometimes. Wouldn't he just irritate people? He did love books, though. But he was huge, and whoever heard of a librarian that could literally benchpress another man?

"I think...I'd just be happy to work a hard labor job with normal hours, and have someone to come home to every night. I don't think I have feelings about building a family and having children or anything like that, since I've never given it much thought even as something I can or can't have. I just...want to be loved. But I don't know if it's a lot to ask or not. Most Guardians think it's too much, and maybe it is for us right now...but someday, maybe..." he trailed off on a shrug, smiling wistfully. He had hoped and tried, briefly. It hadn't gone to plan but...maybe that was just it. Maybe there was some cosmic balance that kept Guardians from having what other people did? Maybe Aoba couldn't return his feelings even if he wanted to?

"Anyways...I think when it's all over, I want to come to the Reef and stay a while, first. If we're able to integrate into society, I want to be Awoken for real. I have to start somewhere, right?"

I just want to be loved.

Aoba hadn’t expected that bombshell, but there it was. And it shouldn’t have been a bombshell either, but it was, hearing the man use a word as direct as ‘loved’. It pretty obviously wasn’t in the way he meant when he talked about family, either, about how Aoba had to get back to the people he loved. It was a word with degrees to it, just as ‘like’ did, and hearing him say he just wanted to be loved…really only had one interpretation.

His other side practically loomed behind him, a rumbling thundercloud of frustration that he wasn’t taking the openings he kept being given, that this was apparently the one exception he had in his willingness to speak his mind as honestly as he could.

He sat with his hands in his lap now, rubbing his hands slowly and quietly against each other, while Ren mutely gazed up at him and Aoba in turn looked out at the swirling purple nebula. He thought of that movie they had watched, the one character demanding what do you want?, but as pretty as the words were, sometimes it really couldn’t be that simple.

But Declan moved the subject on, and Aoba’s thoughts remained his own for a while longer. He looked askance at the Guardian, smiling, and nodded a bit.

“I think that sounds like a good idea. A good place to start. You know, watching people interact with you, I think people like you more than you realize that they do. I think you’ll integrate just fine.”

"I hope you're right. I hope I don't risk opening up and just find it all as barren as I imagined it," the Titan sighed, staring out at the ever-shifting dust clouds, the innumerable shades of purple and pink obscuring the masses of metal. He felt, often, like the Reef itself, just inverted. All anyone saw of him was the first impression: an immense mass, cold and unfeeling. But inside he was flimsy, weak wisps of dust, formless and uncertain. A fortress full of storms.

"I don't think the Queen would mind. The Prince has a fairly low opinion of Guardians, but most of the Awoken only care about what you do, not who you are. I think I could find a place if I didn't make myself too troublesome."

"You? Troublesome? Please," Aoba scoffed gently, though saddened by the Guardian's bleak outlook.

Aoba himself couldn't be that unique among all the people Declan had ever met, right? And -- it wasn't good for the Guardian, to be so hesitant. Aoba may have succeeded at his little 'task' of befriending the Titan, but encouraging him to befriend others was the next logical step.

"But... hey, tell you what." Deciding on what he hoped would be a distracting, but encouraging angle, he tried, "If the war ends but you end up not liking it here in the Reef, I'll take you home with me for a while. If I have two homes, then it's only fair that you should be able to say the same."

He considered it quietly for a time, wondering if it might be problematic, himself not a 'Chosen One'. Were they immune to time paradox? Was there some rule about Declan going? Would it possibly interfere with the Traveler's coming? Still...

"If you would have me there, then when the war is ended, I would go with you. Absolutely. I would have no duty or responsibility without the war...so I would be free to go wherever I wanted, if I could. I would be delighted to come with you, Aoba."

Aoba respected the fact that Declan had to think about it and sat quietly, patient. It wouldn’t have fit the Guardian’s character if he’d agreed right away but—Aoba still found himself happy when his friend ultimately did. It brought greater warmth to his own smile, imagining the big man with him on the District streets. If he couldn’t make friends here, Aoba could introduce him to Koujaku and the rest of Benishigure, for starters. Maybe they were a kind of rowdy bunch at times, but Declan would totally fit with the gang when they were helping the elderly and lost children….

“I’m glad,” he answered warmly. “So, if nothing else, you’ll always have that as a backup plan. I know just the people I can introduce you to, too.”

"I would like to visit your home some day, even if I can't stay for some reason. I'd like to meet the people you think of so fondly. Especially your granny," Declan nodded with a small smile, curious as to the sort of woman that could make Aoba into the man he was. Would it be strange to thank her for her hard work and congratulate her on a job well done?

"If I can, I'd like t--"

"Incoming communication," Ghost interrupted, coalescing between the two men. The Titan sighed and nodded, pushing himself to his feet and mumbling an apology, excusing himself for a moment. Waling a few paces away, he spoke directly to Ghost, though it was simply because he was relaying the messages. He looked calm and resigned, nodding occasionally, lips moving and brows knitting with questions. Once or twice he fumbled through the various pockets on his gear, and he checked a built in display tool on his wrist. Eventually he and Xur - presumably who he was speaking to - must have come to an agreement, because he dismissed Ghost and wandered back, grouching next to Aoba.

"I have good news and bad news. Good news is the Nine are willing to give you a copy of the portal maps they have and even see if they can triangulate a path for you based on any mapping you may already have. More good news is they aren't even asking much for it. Most of what's asked is necessary anyways." A huffed sigh, the large man standing up to his full height and holding a hand out to Aoba to help him up.

"Bad news is I have to go out on the field for some items, which means you have to stay here, or I can take you back home. Mac is here, though, and he's offered to let you stay at his place until I get back. Shouldn't be more than a day or two, tops. I just don't want you stuck on the Mariner. If nothing else, at least you have someone to talk to and show you around. But I definitely can't take you with me. I need to collect some Vex tech and investigate something for the Nine, and they're going to give over what we need upon delivery. Then...you can go home as soon as you like."

Wow. Soon was soon indeed, huh? Aoba waited patiently enough, though he was definitely watching Declan all the while, an elbow on his knee and chin propped in one hand in a display of poor posture that dear Granny would have chided him for. He was neither trying to lip-read nor eavesdrop, and only watched the Guardian’s expressions as he handled the call.

He sat back up when Declan returned, struck by no small measure of surprise that it could be so easy—only to be hit by an even bigger blow of guilt. ‘Easy’ only applied to him, riding around on Declan’s metaphorical coattails as he was. Meanwhile Declan was literally going all over the universe for him, paying gods only knew what in terms of exchange and he’d never asked for a yen—or a glimmer, or silver, or whatever—in repayment.

On his feet again, Aoba considered his options. Stay with Mac, huh?

…the cockatoo? The one with the crush on the royal asshole?

…Uh? Oh, huh. Aoba had kind of forgotten that Declan had told him that, back when Aoba had first asked about him knowing royalty. Guess only part of him forgot…and the absurdity of it all nearly distracted him for a moment or three.

“If…he’s willing, then leaving me with Mac is probably the most straightforward thing, right? Less back and forth for you to do.”

He had no comment on going home ‘as soon as he liked’. That was a point of great internal contention, after all.

"Mhm. He's far more familiar with the Reef than I am, and he's a lot more socially active so you'll probably have more fun anyways," Declan said, without sounding the least bit hurt. He knew he wasn't as entertaining a person as the Warlock, but that was just how things went; warlocks were a bizarre bunch. Not as party-hard as Hunters, but definitely interesting. Mac straddled the line between Hunter and Warlock a lot; if there was anyone to show Aoba a good time while Declan was gone, it was him.

"I'll let him know to come get you. I should probably head back and gear up. There's a few strike teams going out soon and if I hurry I can join up and keep my time gone as short as possible. I can take you back to the Mariner or you can explore the outpost until he gets you. It's safe here with Emissary Venj and Variks and the others. Up to you, but I want to get these maps for you before teh Nine change their minds."

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