orendalogs | IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!

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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 ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"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."

Declan may not have sounded hurt, but Aoba looked at least a degree of confused. He didn’t think there was supposed to be an indication there that he hadn’t been having fun with Declan. Though granted, ‘fun’ probably wasn’t the right word for the kind of deep, easygoing comfort he felt around the Guardian.

“I’ll go back to the Mariner with you,” Aoba answered without hesitation. If Declan was suddenly departing to be gone for a while, then Aoba wanted to still share in his company up to the last minute. “You’re doing this all for me, so I’m not going to let you go without seeing you off.”

He smiled and chuckled at that, shaking his head before reachign out and looping an arm around Aoba's shoulders, tugging him in for a side hug as they walked.

"I'm not going for long and I'll be back before you know it. Still, I appreciate the company. Come on. We'll get your things packed for your stay. I'm going to leave the Mariner here, though, and give Ren all the access codes. I have other ships in storage and I've got them prepping one so you can escape from Mac if you need to," the Guardian smirked faintly, taking his time on the walk back, at least.

Once at the ship, Declan explained a few of the places he was going, and that some of the things he was getting weren't that difficult or uncommon, so Aoba didn't have to worry. The only sketchy part was a few things the Nine wanted from the Vault of Glass, which was extremely dangerous, but not unknown to Declan; he'd already been many, many times. Once Aoba had everything he needed, Declan waited for a time at the exit hatch of the ship, debating with himself before finally asking for a hug. After that, he wasted no time in hurrying off. He didn't want to be away for a minute longer than strictly necessary, and he didn't want to linger on goodbye, either; it made it feel like he wouldn't be back, and that made him uncomfortable.

At the very least, Aoba wasn't left hanging alone for long. Not ten minutes after Declan boarded his other ship (another old clunky thing like the Mariner) a familiar blue-skinned and purple-haired man strolled up looking like he walked straight out of a comic-book idea of the post-apocalyptic magic space-future. His gear was a colorful mix of old and new, a little punk, a little Gandalf, and his hair was all pomp. Despite looking like a bit of a prick, the pretty young face was inviting enough, with dimples and sparkling lime eyes.

Definitely one Macklemore Journey.

"Oooh, is little boy blue already pining for tall, pale, and slightly less handsome than me?" Mac drawled, grinning with bright, perfect teeth. "Get your shit, buddy, we're gettin' some food. Nothing cures a case of the gloomies like some weird ass space sushi, and you're Japanese, right? Ready to live a little?"

In a way, it was the hug that did Aoba in. Not the first one, so casual as they walked back to the ship, but the one that came at the end. For all of the insistence that Declan would be back soon and wasn’t going anywhere he was unfamiliar with, dangerous or otherwise, the hug made it feel like a parting in a way that Aoba hadn’t felt when he’d been briefly left behind for those partial-day missions.

And then there was the whole business of his own return home actually being in sight. A lead had paid off, answers were gotten, and after this Aoba would have the maps that he needed. He could go home to Granny and everyone else. He wanted to, and he needed to, and he could come back around to the City any time afterwards, but…this was it. After all the weeks that he’d been here, going home was going to happen, rather than just being the goal they were questing for.

The drawl startled him out of his vague stare into the distance, jerking him around. He may have never seen Mac in person before, but that face—or more importantly, that style, that manner—was unforgettable, even when he’d only encountered it across holographic screens.

Also Mac had flirted with him pretty hard, Aoba suddenly recalled. Now that he’d practically managed to forget, irrelevant as it had seemed to be. It came back to him now.

“Who’s gloomy?” he spluttered, hoisting his bags with his gear and Ren (who he was pretty sure he’d spotted giving Ghost a personal farewell too, huh).

"Uh, you. Obviously not me. I'm top of the world, running off with Declan's little boyfriend. I'm a ho~mewre~cker!" Mac crowed in a sing-song voice before belting out an infectious laugh and reaching out to thump a fist into Aob'a shoulder.

"Nice to finally meet you in the flesh, huh? I was starting to think all Declan was talking about was some imaginary friend. I was gettin' real concerned, like maybe you were some holo that Ghost cooked up to keep big boy from going cuckoo. Glad to see you're not a blow-up doll. That'd be an awkward conversation!" the Warlock grinned, walking along and leading the way over to his ship. The Hildian Seeker was enormous compared to Declan's older model ships, fit for a small crew. Mac didn't show Aoba around, just had him leave his things in the cargo bay for the moment (it had a cargo bay), before turning right back out to head into the city.

"So you're gonna tell me you don't miss him? Liar."

Talk about total opposites. After so long with essentially just Declan, Ren, and Ghost for company, and arguably being the mostly lively personality among the four of them, exposure to someone who was as much of a livewire as Macklemore was—almost bewildering.

Aoba focused on getting his headspace back in order as he was led along, reminding himself what it was like to be around people who weren’t as quiet as Declan. He took the punch without complaint, despite awareness that his Hunter gear had absorbed some of the shock, and otherwise observed his impromptu new host. Appearances were one thing, personalities were another. Mac was a Guardian that Declan vouched for, too, so however he acted or carried himself, Aoba had to know that there was a good heart in there for the Light to have chosen.

“He just left,” was apparently the retort Aoba had on hand as he followed Mac back into the organized chaos of the Reef. Food did sound good, and he had no objections to sushi, but if remarks about Declan were going to be Mac’s new angle on flirting it was—a decidedly weird one.

“Of course I’m going to miss him while he’s gone, but right now I’m just hoping it all goes as well as he says it should. Going out to dangerous places may be normal for Guardians, but a regular guy like me is going to be concerned no matter what.”

"Yeahhhh, we do get kinda short-ended on that stick," Mac admitted with a shrug, reaching up and combing fingers through the pristine wave of purple hair, fluffing it unnecessarily. Not a hair was out of place, and one had to wonder how he kept it so immaculate.

"Declan does himself in pretty hard though. Idiot doesn't know how to take a break. Thinks watching old movies between jumps is good enough. Man, a guy needs to take some time for himself," the Warlock groaned, making a show of rubbing at his temples.

"Sooooo do I get any detailssss ooorrrrrr are we not that friendly yet?" Mac asked, hopping on one foot and doing a surprisingly agile little spin and twist to start walking backwards in front of Aoba, holding out both hands and waving them about.

"I wanna know if it's true what they say about Titans. Are they like...super huge everywhere or does all that muscle round up a tiny package?" Because Mac assumed Aoba and Declan were together together, since his last update had been about some pretty heated exchanges. He had no idea the two were on ice.

Edited 2018-11-16 04:56 (UTC)

And Aoba, for his part, had no idea what Mac was talking about. It was innocuous enough at the start, Aoba neither missing nor dismissing the Warlock's apparent awareness of Declan's poor self-care, and even getting the start of a thought that perhaps there was an ally here that Aoba could enlist in those particular challenges -- and then Mac changed the topic on him completely.

Seeing as this was in no way a topic Aoba had ever discussed with anyone ever, about anyone's at all, he had no idea what Mac was talking about. Desire had only the mental equivalent of an arched eyebrow going on, so if he had any clue, he wasn't sharing the enlightenment.

"Sorry, what?"

"The sex, dude. Is it good? Is Declan secretly a freak or is he just as bland as I imagine? Not that I imagine him sleeping with you, that's weird, but I mean I suppose he's about as exciting as pudding left on the counter too long," Mac explained, rolling a hand lightly as they passed through a long corridor into a three way split, heading left to a door with a sign near by labeling it "Queen's Bounty".

"Declan said you two were getting kind of heavy and came to ask me about it. I gave him a little advice because I didn't want to freak him out. But I wanna know what the payoff was like and he went full clam."

The s-

Aoba balked so hard his steps forward became steps backwards, struck by those casual words like a physical blow. One, two, and then he was just frozen in place, mind reeling. Even his alternate half was given pause by the reveal of Declan having gone and talked to somebody about—Desire’s outburst, presumably. Color flooded Aoba’s face, hot and humiliating, as Mac’s prior comments suddenly presented themselves in completely different context.

So that meant Mac thought-

“We’re not anything like that!” he blurted when he found the words, not just embarrassed but even ashamed that, somehow, the complications between him and Declan had made it out to an unrelated third party.

Suddenly this wasn’t his own private problem to deal with anymore. Aoba hastened to catch up, lowering his voice to hiss, “What the heck did he tell you??”

"Really? It sounded like you were all up in his business," Mac answered, obviously perplexed. He paused, indicating to a staff member that they needed a spot for two people, and went around a corner into a nice, quiet space.

"We're just gonna get the full Queen's Ransom," he told the woman, gesturing vaguely between them. "And two waters. Thanks."

Waiting a moment for the woman to depart, Mac turned back to Aoba, folding his arms on the table and arching a brow, his own Ghost coalescing beside him and floating to look out the nearby window.

"Well, to be honest, he didn't say all that much. He was really confused and conflicted. I guess you've been at him, runnin' hot and cold? He was pretty excited initially, thought you were into him like he's into you. Last time we talked about it he was worried something he said really put you off and he wanted to know how to get over his inhibitions. That's what I took away from it, anyways. So I told him about jerking off and all, see if he could get himself ramped up and just go for it. Like, I guess you were jumping him and bein' all ready to go and he was trying to be respectful and you got pissed or whatever. Your other sex-crazy ass, I dunno. Hey in there, by the way," Mac said, waving cheerily as though there were some backseat driver behind Aoba's eyes.

"He usually talks to me about everything, but he got real dead silent. I didn't know what to think of it other than you guys must have figured everything out and started bumping uglies. But now you're saying you're not anything..." He paused, leaning back a bit to squint at Aoba.

"Are you messing with him right now? You gotta know, man, Declan isn't good with twisty emotions and all. Don't play with his heart. This is like...probably the only time he's ever been in love with someone. If you're not into him, you gotta be straight. He's kinda slow on catching those things. He's a good guy, man. It's not real fair..."

Declan had only just left, Mac had only just picked him up, and this was the conversation they were having? Aoba sat in his seat, eyes lowered, shock slowly fading away the more Mac spoke, until only that burning shame was left. It felt weird to think that Declan had been talking to someone about everything, but that was unfair. That was what friends were for, and Aoba was only a hypocrite if he wanted Declan to have more friends but then not talk to them about things when he was having problems.

It hurt to have to admit he’d been a problem, but he knew that was exactly what he’d been. And a whole lot more than a hypocrite, too.

Say that again, Desire snorted, apparently appreciating Reason getting a lecture from someone other than his other side. He hadn’t missed that separate acknowledgement, either, though he stayed passively in said ‘backseat’ for now.

So now Aoba had total strangers telling Declan loved him. Yeah. Things definitely weren’t fair.

“I’m not messing with him,” he answered weakly, staring at the tabletop. “Not on purpose. There was a…misunderstanding.” That was a good enough word as any for Desire’s ham-fisted attempts to air out Aoba’s feelings in a completely backwards manner, and all the complications that had arisen as a result. “We’re just friends.”

"You just not into guys?" he asked, tilting his head and leaning back to stretch in his seat, apparently mollified by Aoba's meek reply. "I mean if that's your problem, there's no helping it. He'll understand. Probably the most understanding guy ever," Mac rolled his eyes, folding his hands behind his head and crossing his feet at his ankles.

"If it's not that though, are you just hung up on not being from here? I thought you were able to come back whenever you like? Or are you worried about getting involved with a soldier?" The Warlock nodded slowly in general understanding. As far as he saw it, there were plenty of reasons not to get involved with a Guardian. Mac was one of those that had no complicated concerns regarding other people's opinions of Guardians or the way the world worked.

They were wrong, of course, but he wasn't the guy to go changing minds. Guardians deserved everything that everyone else had and then some, and their sacrifices were completely unfair, so far as he saw it. He and Aoba could have some pretty loud talks about their feelings there. Especially when it involved Declan getting shit on. Mac could roll with the social punches, but Declan seemed to collapse under them.

"Well...what's the misunderstanding? Spill the beans, girlfriend, your friend Mac is here to help! Thank you," he paused, inclining his head to the woman that brought over their water, explaining the food would be there in a few more minutes. He'd just gone and ordered the massive sushi platter that had samples of everything. He didn't think it was relevant to express that not everything was Earth fish. Better to just let the new guy find flavors he liked and tell him what it was later.

Trolls existed in every era.

"Did Declan screw up and think you were into him when you were just being nice or something? You didn't actually fool around? He made it sound like you guys were on touchy-kissy terms. Or about there."

Aoba couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so put on the spot. Now it got to eat at him all the more. Declan had been excited at the start? And all he wanted was to be loved, he’d said. Didn’t that just make Aoba the biggest heel in the universe, to be the first person Declan had ever fallen for, and to refuse him?

Holding back truths was a whole different game from lying. Withholding truth just meant keeping his mouth shut. Now here was Mac, another Guardian, not actually messing with Aoba all over again but expressing interest and concern, asking pointed questions that covered all the bases. And even though Desire was simmering in the back of his thoughts, the pressure Aoba felt from him was akin to hands firmly on his shoulders, forcing him to stay where he was and face what was being said to him.

“He thinks I don’t, but I…like some guys,” he admitted quietly, cheeks still hot and eyes still averted. Maybe it was a non-issue here in the future, but for Aoba, it was still an confession that went against cultural norms of people liking the opposite sex and any variance to that being ‘weird’ or ‘strange’. I like Declan, he even thought, but held in the words. That truth was the one he had to bury for as long as possible.

“I can come back any time I want…and I don’t care that he’s a Guardian.” So what was it, then? The stupid little things that held him back from airing out a simple misunderstanding and discovering the possibilities of him liking Declan and Declan liking him? That kept going around in his head and holding him back, despite his other side’s every attempt to shoot them down-

“…But I don’t deserve him.”

"Well that's bullshit," Mac snorted, rolling his eyes and sitting up again, folding his arms on the table to look at Aoba.

"Exactly who decides who "deserves" Declan? Nobody deserves him, if we're being honest. He's gigantic, he's slow, he's a huge child - mind your damn business I didn't say manchild I already know what you're thinking about me - he cries about the dumbest stuff. He's a huge pain in the ass. No one deserves that," Mac went on, deliberately aiming to get a rise out of Aoba, pointing a finger at him and narrowing one eye before the man could have an outburst just yet.

"Or do you think you're entitled to decide what Declan wants for himself? Like there's some kind of scale out there measuring what people can and can't have based on some arbitrary set of societal rulings? If he likes you and you like him, then you two "deserve" each other. Pretty fuckin' simple math. If you don't like him, then don't. No one says you have to. But if you do, and you're bitching out because you've got Declan on a pedestal, then take him down from it. I can guaran-goddamn-tee he doesn't want to be up there. All that does is isolate him more, but he's too polite and stupid to complain."

As far as rises went, Mac actually didn’t get too much of one. Certainly nothing approached an outburst. It did get Aoba’s eyes up off the table, brows drawn down as the disparaging remarks piled up and weighed against confusion of, wait, wasn’t Mac supposed to be Declan’s friend?—but there was nothing for Mac to interrupt.

Aoba ended up averting his eyes again, though now with more tension in the lines of his expression. What was this, all of a sudden? If he hadn’t known completely better, he’d have wondered if this was why Declan had proposed that he could stay with Mac. Except he did know better, and apparently Mac had volunteered, and the Mariner had been left behind so that Aoba could ‘escape’ to it if need be.

“He’s not on a pedestal, but I’m down in the ditches,” he countered. Declan was extraordinary and Aoba did view him as someone so much better than so many other people around him, but he didn’t consider it to be a pedestal. To Aoba, it was a level he simply couldn’t rise to right now. It was different.

“I don’t know…who I am, or what I am. I haven’t done a single thing for myself since he started helping me. Right now, it’s just…it’s better for him to keep thinking I couldn’t like him,” Aoba slowly pieced the words together, staring down at his hands, clenching into tired fists in his lap. Ren gazed up at him mutely, gazing out of his carry-bag, but Aoba held back from reaching to his fur for comfort.

“It’s one less…complication.”

Edited 2018-11-17 17:58 (UTC)

"Declan seems to think you're the best thing in the universe. Kind of an insult to his opinion if you're saying he's wrong," Mac mused, clapping his hands and rubbing them together when a massive starship-shaped platter arrived full of sashemi in various styles including sashemi, maki, and temaki. Mac immediate picked up a greenish meat sashemi and popped it in his mouth, chewing in thought.

"If you want to do things on your own, insist. Declan is a pretty giving guy by nature. He tries too hard and tends to run people off by being too nice, because people expect more hardships and independence. Doing too much for a person is smothering. He doesn't get that. Yell at him sometimes," Mac shrugged, arching a brow and pointing at the food.

"Eat."

Sniffing loudly, Mac made a few odd noises with his mouth before shaking his head.

"You guys should just fuck. It's plastered all over both of you with your see-sawing between moping and googly eyes. You like him, he likes you, where's the hang up, really? If you're worried about the logistics of sex, I sent Declan several books. I'm sure he's read them, he's like a fuckin' sponge for the written word. You want copies? They have pictures."

Edited 2018-11-17 18:32 (UTC)

Well, that was a—sort of familiar-looking platter of food. Aoba watched that piece vanish down Mac’s gullet and wondered what the heck sort of future fish was green. The conversation was putting something of a damper on his appetite, but the platter was bizarrely eye-catching with all its shapes and styles of sushi…which, as far as Aoba was concerned, was a special occasion type of food rather than a meal staple. Curiosity served well in getting him to pick up a pair of chopsticks and starting to investigate…until Mac went and said that last thing that he did.

Aoba jolted, the flush of color in his face refreshed, frustrated to hear it said so indifferently by someone outside his head as well as inside of it.

“Definitely not!” he blurted, flustering in place for a moment before just grabbing a random piece of sushi to shove in his mouth and silence himself with.

…it was a surprisingly strong assortment of flavors, but not bad.

Edited 2018-11-17 18:54 (UTC)

"Your loss," Mac shrugged, picking up a maki roll and chewing quietly for a time, giving them both a breather. The Warlock, unlike Declan, didn't have the least problem with pressuring others or pushing delicate topics indelicately.

"Try the gray stuff, it's delicious," Mac grinned and winked, perfectly well aware of his quotation.

"So then, let's clear the air here straight up. You aren't attracted to Declan. Yes or no. Do not give me some convoluted answer. There's more than one question involved here, so answer short and simple. Yes or no."

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