orendalogs | IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!

Maybe the craziest thing about all this was the fact that Aoba sort of felt more comfortable right here in this giant’s shadow than he had at any point during that month in Steelport. Oh, soon enough he’d have to deal the fact he was in a new world he knew nothing about with no means of support while he searched for the next portal (barring getting shanghaied into another gang or something), but right now, this was almost kind of familiar.

Well. Up to the hair compliment. The amused look Aoba had been tossing backwards at those scraping sounds turned into a doubletake at what he at least heard as an unexpected compliment. He looked back towards Declan in surprise at the shift in conversation, his thoughts visibly getting stuck in the change of mental gears for a few moments. It wasn’t like it felt awkward, though…at least he didn’t think Declan was hitting on him all of a sudden. Right?

It seemed to follow naturally enough to Aoba: if everyone in here thought Declan was just going to punch them, he probably wasn’t used to carrying a conversation.

It helped that Declan didn’t do like those girl-friends of Koujaku’s and try to touch him, too.

“Thanks,” he managed instead, wrangling his expression around to a smile as he took a gamble (half forgetting he wasn’t home, admittedly) and pointed towards the geometric robot floating nearby. “I like your Allmate.”

"I'm a Ghost, actually," the floating eye piped up, squinting and rotating in a manner that suggested a well-meaning smile. He had a voice and an eye, and it was good enough. It certainly emoted more than Declan did, who hunched slightly at Aoba's words, cheeks coloring noticeably. Easily embarrassed, even by his own words and actions.

"You're not precisely human," Ghost observed, drawing Declan's silver glance. "Are you an Agent of the Nine?" the eye asked curiously, mirroring Declan's own interest.

"I don't think so," Declan mumble, shaking his head slightly.

"why? Just because he doesn't look like Xur?" Ghost asked, swiveling to look at Declan, who shrugged and didn't elaborate. He rarely felt the need to explain himself. No one seemed to understand his perspective or intuition anyways.

Ghost, huh? Must be its model. Aoba’s hand drifted to his satchel as he continued to neglect his beer and considered waking Ren instead, only to be flummoxed by what came out of the robot’s mouth…er, speakers…next.

“Not precisely…?” Aoba repeated dumbly, right through Declan and Ghost addressing each other instead of him. This was an Aoba who had never encountered Toue, never learned the truth of his own existence. Instead of walking into a Rhyme drive-by he’d walked into a portal—and the rest had been history up until now.

He laughed clumsily when the other two paused, not all that sure what the misunderstanding was but obviously this was nothing but some kind of misunderstanding. “I don’t know anything about any Agents—” (that wasn’t any relation to being a ‘Chosen One’, was it?) “—but I’m definitely human.”

…though perhaps that begged the question: what was ‘human’ in this world? Someone like Declan? But most of those guys jeering at them looked like regular people as Aoba would expect people to look….

"Well, if you insist, but I know a human when I see one," Ghost replied sulkily, prompting Declan to reach up and grab him from the air. Turning the little thing so they were eye to eye, the Guardian grunted, then let Ghost go. The construct spun lightly into the air, then dematerialized before Aoba's eyes.

"He's a Ghost. He can scan you," Declan explained, turning to finish off the last of his drink. Noting Aoba hadn't touched the beer at all, the Guardian took a small leap and cleared his throat, gesturing vaguely towards the door.

"I have to head out. Would you like to walk with me? No one will bother you." Really it was just an offer to get out of the bar safely. Declan didn't have anywhere he needed to be at the moment. He had bounties he could be pursuing, but it wasn't as if he needed the money. He just wanted to get Aoba out of nosy earshot.

"Thank you," the Guardian rumbled, rising from his seat and dropping a handful of glowing blue crystals on the table, which the bartender scooped up with a nod.

"Anytime, Declan. See you around. You too, kid. You're welcome anytime."

Well, Aoba was just going to pass that off as some difference between humans in this world and his own, then. It was silly to think anything otherwise because, after all, he was human. Even if he did have sensation in his hair.

Before Aoba could start to really wonder if maybe Ghost’s scan could pick up something that subtle, Declan spoke and moved. The young man visibly doubletaked at the crystals handed over as payment, but his attention snapped quickly back to the other.

“Ah? Oh, yes! Thank you very much, I’d appreciate that,” he stammered, slipping off the stool. Especially given that some of those mutterers in the background were still paying attention, he got the hint, but he paused to address the bartender one last time. Would Aoba ever come back? Who knew. He didn’t know how long he’d be stuck in this world but it wouldn’t hurt to remember a friendly face.

“Thanks, mister. Next time I’ll pay for a drink just like his,” he answered with a wry little smile and a jerk of his thumb towards Declan. It was meant like an apology for having not touched the beer but he hoped the guy understood.

The bartender nodded, leaving Declan and Aoba to depart as they pleased. No one made to follow them, of course, so the two were able to go without incident. Out of the bar Ghost rematerialized, spinning about idly before drifting off into the sky and heading towards...

"...The Traveler seems brighter today..." Declan murmured, more to himself than speaking to Aoba as he looked up a the gargantuan sphere in the sky over a city that was far, far larger and more advanced than the seedy interior of the bar suggested. Much larger and more advanced than anything even Aoba's world had to offer. There were starships in the air, people buzzing through the streets on some sort of hoverbike, normal humans, robotic people, more colorful hair and skinned people like Declan with smooth skin and eerie, too-pretty faces.

"If Ghost says you aren't human, you aren't. But I don't think you're a spy or anything bad, so I thought we should leave if it was something to talk about so no one got the wrong idea," Declan stated abruptly, turning to look at Aoba from his not unimpressive height. At 6'9", 419lbs, people moved when Declan walked through, unwilling to be a speedbump in his life.

"I don't care if you aren't human. I'm not," the massive man remarked, shrugging slightly.

"My apologies!" Ghost piped up, looking bashful in it's own way. "I didn't think about the trouble it might cause. I was only making an observation. I hope I haven't been too careless."

Edited 2015-12-13 19:31 (UTC)

If Aoba heard them, it was only subconsciously. What the two would see, looking at him now, was the shellshocked face of a man who didn't know what was in front of his eyes and hadn't been suspecting anything remotely like it. Wide eyes, mouth hanging open... blood rushing out of his face.

It was enough to make him a bit lightheaded, in fact, enough that when he felt himself sway a bit Aoba put a hand out, automatically and unthinkingly bracing himself on Declan's sturdy frame.

Oh. Goodness. Even Steelport had felt closer to home than this.

"Where am I...?" he asked himself, stunned and under his breath as he fumbled to grasp everything he was seeing.

"Earth, The Last City," Declan replied calmly, shifting enough to put one hand at the small of Aoba's back, keeping the blue-haired man standing. He didn't mind being used for support - liked it, in fact, for how much people tended to avoid him.

"Are you lost?" the Guardian asked, tilting that glowing silver gaze down. "Did you crash here, or were you only just brought back?" he offered up suggestions, knowing full well it might be none of those things but that Aoba needed some kind of cover story. Declan didn't care about people's origins, just their direction and motivation, and Aoba seemed neither intent on harm or malevolent in any measurable sense of the word. So it was something else, and while he was a little curious he wasn't even a little judgmental. If Aoba wanted to tell the truth he would. Declan knew he had to earn the right to know a man's story and they'd only just met so he didn't expect much.

Despite technically being the one to initiate contact with the other man in the first place, and despite his distraction, the feel of a hand somewhere as intimate as the small of his back gave Aoba a surprised rush of chills up his spine. It wasn’t inherently a bad thing, though—certainly it helped reel him back from the edge of that sense of being overwhelmed, looking out at the vastness of a city that far exceeded anything he’d ever known. Not even the glimpse of Oval Tower rising in the distance could compare to that great spherical…thing in the sky.

He turned his wide eyes back up towards Declan. Aoba’s was definitely a guileless face. He was too honest for his own good sometimes and he definitely didn’t have a poker face enough to hide just how plainly out of his element that he was.

“Lost…” he repeated, a strained laugh escaping him next as he looked back across the vista before him. It was a helpless, not humorous sound. “I crashed alright…right into the bathroom of a bar in the middle of…whatever this is.”

He gestured weakly with both hands before dropping them heavily to his sides with a sigh to match. Well on the bright side, he supposed, at least he hadn’t fallen right into the clutches of a crime syndicate this time.

The Guardian considered Aoba for a moment, bright eyes still as he thought to himself. Eventually he turned away, looking across the cityscape towards the massive tower in the distance. A few more moment ticked by, Declan weighing his options, calculating pros and cons and separating the right path fro the wrong.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" he asked eventually, turning back to Aoba and inhaling deeply. It was more of a strain than he thought it would be, talking so much. He rarely did more than grunt in conversation, never really having a reason to say more - particularly since he tended to travel with people that talk a great deal. It was like exercising a forgotten muscle, exhausting but...rewarding.

"I won't hurt you," he blurted, soft and sudden, gazing down at the blue-haired man with as sincere a look as Aoba wore a guileless one. "I don't hurt people for no good reason, no matter what everyone says. If you need a place to stay while you figure things out, I've got the safest place in the city," the Guardian clarified, lifting his hand to point at the tower at the edge of the city. There were others in the greater distance, set into massive walls around the perimeter of the vast metropolis, but the nearest was the one Declan indicated.

While Declan was silent in his thought for those moments, Aoba was similarly mute as he stared across the city and wondered where to start. Not being trapped by the Deckers meant he could look freely for another portal…but just like the last one, he didn’t know where a portal would dump him until he went through it. Should he take his time? Try to get his bearings, maybe hope he could get a few more supplies than the sodas and snacks he’d managed to cram in his satchel along with Ren? Or did he just hop portals as quickly as he could find them and hope that sooner than later one would dump him back home—

You couldn’t really forget that there was a giant like Declan standing right beside you, but Aoba almost did, anyway. The pale man spoke again and Aoba stared up at him in shock at the offer, his mouth falling open with a wordless sound.

“I—” He looked the way Declan pointed, fumbling to decide, but fear of the big man wasn’t even on the list of things to make Aoba hesitate. Declan had surprised him, sure, even been intimidating, but Aoba didn’t feel the least bit afraid of him.

His tongue caught up with his thoughts, sort of. “—I can’t pay you anything. I don’t even know what those crystals you gave the bartender were. I don’t want to be a freeloader…but….” Would he be an idiot to turn down the offer? He’d just be living off the streets unless he found something like a homeless shelter.

“…If you really mean that and I wouldn’t be a bother, I’d be very grateful, Declan.”

"You don't have to pay anything. I have the room and I almost never use it. I spend more time on the front lines than in my own bed anyways," the Guardian gently reassured Aoba, shaking his head slowly. Reaching up and tugging the shoulder of his combat gear, the big man tried to get more comfortable where he stood, feeling unsure despite his conviction about the invitation. He just didn't invite people to have anything to do with him past work.

"Food is mostly prefabricated and cost-free, and my room is free, too. I'm a Guardian, and they're given living quarters at no charge. Most people in the city don't pay for their housing. Culturally we're past that. Free energy, things like that," he mused, wondering how much or how little Aoba knew of anything. Did he have some kind of amnesia, or...

"I mean it. I'm not using anything anyways. At least that way you'll be able to meet with The Speaker or any of the Vanguard. Someone might be able to help you better than I can. Besides, it's a safe and peaceful place...I think it's nice," he added the last a little childishly, instantly regretting it despite feeling it was worth saying.

…Aoba could barely conceive of it. Free food? Free housing? Not just out of Declan’s kindness, but…culturally? Compared to the strain and crowded living back in Midorijima, the gap of poverty between Platinum Jail and the Old Resident District….

He couldn’t help it; he actually began to feel a little hopeful and it showed on his face too, a tentative thought that maybe this world would be a bit easier to navigate despite being so alien…regardless of it being Earth or not. Then at Declan’s last remark, Aoba actually laughed. It sounded much warmer than his last one.

“Declan…I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but the place I came from, I was bossed around by a whole gang of punks that called themselves ‘Deckers’. I know we’ve only just met…but I get the feeling you’re one of the last people in the world that deserves to be called something like that.”

It was impulsive, speaking his mind like that, and it wasn’t like he really knew the guy, but Aoba couldn’t help but express his gratitude.

Silver eyes blinked once before widening slowly, a lavender hue rising to Declan's otherwise strong face. The bulky man drew himself up and looked away, reaching up to scratch the back of his head with a gloved hand, oblivious to the quizzical look Ghost was giving him.

"Thank you. This way," he muttered brusquely, not accustomed to compliments of any sort. He turned on a heavy boot and headed towards the tower, debating having Ghost port them there. It would be cruel and disorienting without warning, so he did the next best thing and asked.

"It's a little more than three miles from here, though it looks closer since it's so big. Do you want to walk, or do you mind if Ghost takes us there right away? He'll use the transmat from my ship and just...get us there," he tried to explain, gesturing with one hand the universal sign for "poof". Trying to elaborate on particle matter transmission wasn't something he was very well equipped to do in layman terms.

The color of it was off, but Aoba was pretty sure he knew a blush when he saw it. Really, it only seemed to confirm his feelings: when did you ever see a bad guy blush? Smiling to himself, Aoba adjusted the weight of his satchel on his hip and followed along when Declan began to walk.

Three miles wasn’t a short walk, but Aoba wasn’t about to complain after a life spent taking footpath shortcuts all over Midorijima anyway. The presentation of an alternative was yet another surprise in the series of the ones that kept getting flung at him as this day progressed.

‘Transmat’ wasn’t a word that made any sense to him but the ‘poof’ gesture sort of did. Aoba blinked, making the only logical connection he had the experience to make.

“What, like a portal?”

"Oh no, actually the transmat breaks you down into billions of tiny particles taht transfer rapidly over--"

"Kind of like a portal, I guess," Declan cut Ghost off, not wanting the little guy to go off on some science tangent. Ghost did most of the talking for him, but he felt obligated to make efforts where Aoba was concerned. He had saved the man, and that implied a measure of responsibility. It wasn't one he minded, either, but it meant contending with Ghost, which was difficult, at times.

"You're in one spot one minute and then you're in another spot the next. But it can be really dizzying to some first-timers. Still, it'll get us there before you could sat transmatter..."

B-billions of…. That didn’t sound safe. That sounded…scary and uncomfortable. Teleporting? Aoba knew teleporting in a sci-fi movie sense, but, billions of particles….

…did he even really know how the portals moved him from one place to another across space and time across Earth’s surface? Declan and Ghost talked like the ‘transmat’ was something normal, even. Would it be a nuisance if he asked to walk anyway? Take, you know, the scenic route? But he didn’t want to impose….

Aoba gripped the strap of his satchel, feeling nervous, but deciding to keep trusting in Declan. Route options presented to him, Aoba hesitated but ultimately chose:

“As long as I don’t crash into some guy at a urinal again, how bad can it be? Go ahead.”

And just like that they were standing in a courtyard in the clouds, overlooking the city instead of being inside it. Aoba's ears popped and he was sure to feel cold and hot at the same time, sort of like being microwaved, but the transmission of matter was nearly instantaneous.

And the view was incredible.

Other people hurried about around the courtyard, most of them outfitted similar to Declan in armor and laden with weapons. there were people in long robes over the armor, people with cloaks and hoods and burly men and women in plate armor more like Aoba's current benefactor. the races were a mix of robots, people like Declan and normal humans, but unlike the people in the bar who all wore plainclothes and had the physical fitness and appearance of civilians, everyone in the tower aside from those doing menial tasks were obviously soldiers of some type.

"Welcome to the Tower. This is the central hub for all Guardians. We come here for our gear and assignments, and anything else of value of time or money."

It wasn’t even between one blink and the next. Like Declan said…poof. Aoba’s ears popped and he jumped with a yelp of surprise for the sudden transition, warned or not. He hadn’t even started to brace himself for the unexpected.

Poof.

Aoba jumped to the side, too, jostling Declan’s arm with his body—as much as a twig like him could jostle the solidness of a redwood, anyway. It wasn’t quite trying to hide in the shadow of his mighty benefactor, but it would be a lie to say it wasn’t jolting towards that which was more familiar than the rest, even if only just.

Another bit of brain- and tongue-fumbling for Aoba followed as he reassembled his thoughts with his observations.

“W…wait…wait. You mentioned….” Guardians. Front lines. “…Is a Guardian some kind of…soldier? Is…is there a war going on?”

If Aoba had ever entertained any notions of trying to blend in, or at least not let on that he was as ignorant and alien as he was here, that was all out the window now. There was just no hiding it, obvious as it was.

None of the other Guardians seemed inclined to stop whatever they were doing to eavesdrop - part of why Declan wanted to go to the Tower as opposed to stay in the city. Gossip was much less common among the men and women of the tower.

"In a manner of speaking," he answered, waiting patiently for Aoba to reorient himself before talking. He cast a bland look Ghost's way, not pleased that the construct hadn't even given Aoba warning, but he was a brash little thing, prone to hurrying things along when waiting seemed pointless. It certainly made for trouble in the field.

"The Speaker could explain better than I can...and he's sure to tell you everything when you do speak to him, but...to simplify: a long time ago the Traveler came here from the furthest reaches of space. It lifted the galaxy into a Golden Age that lasted ages. But where the Traveler is Light, there is Darkness out there as well. It has been creeping closer for all of history. The Traveler kept it at bay as long as it could, and now that task falls to us. It...it isn't a war like from the darker ages of men. It isn't man fighting man. It's man fighting the thing it's been afraid of since the dawn of time," he shrugged slightly, not sure how to better explain such an abstract concept.

"We fight common enemies of flesh and blood as well, protecting he people and trying to reestablish a foothold in the galaxy, but mostly Guardians are the Light that banishes the Dark. Simply as that."

Edited 2015-12-14 07:28 (UTC)

Traveler. Aoba was vaguely aware that he’d heard that word before, glancing up at that sphere in the sky with a rough bit of recollection. Beyond that, though, it all sounded rather…esoteric? Or like a sci-fi movie. Aoba had popped into a bathroom in a sci-fi movie.

Except it was a real world, he knew that well enough. Steelport had been very real. He expected no less of this place, however hard it was to wrap his head around it.

“Simply…” he repeated, then shook his head with a self-deprecating laugh. Everything he asked only led to more questions. “Sorry…I probably sound like an idiot, not knowing any of this. Thanks, for being patient with me.”

"I don't think you sound like an idiot at all," Declan replied softly, looking over the railing of the tower and out at the city beyond, silver eyes following the bath of a ship lazily coasting towards the tower hangars.

"I didn't know any of it, once. It all had to be explained to me," he pointed out turning slightly to gesture vaguely at all of the people moving about the tower.

"Every Guardian has had it explained to them at some point. No one just wakes up knowing everything, Aoba. Your circumstances might be different, but it amounts to the same thing. There's no reason to be less respectful in your case. You have nothing to apologize for," the large Awoken quietly insisted, lips twitching just slightly into a small smile. It soon returned to the usual neutral expression of his marble statue face, but the sentiment remained. Declan was gentle and awkward, but he wasn't the bull in a China shop the bitter locals painted him to be. Sure, he packed a wallop and wasn't afraid to use it, but there was more to him if a person took a moment to look.

"I'm going to talk to the Speaker about all of this. He'll have a better idea of what to do. In the meanwhile, I'll take you to the balcony at the back of the tower. It overlooks the wild instead of the city. I think you can appreciate the separation from everything for a little bit until the Speaker calls for you. I know he will. He'll be fine with you staying, but he'll want to see you for himself, and while you talk I can make arrangements at my quarters."

Looking up at that gentle face…it was weird to think it, but it kind of got to him. The contrast between Declan and the Steelport Deckers was about as vast as it could be. Sure, some of them hadn’t been all mean to him, but he’d still amounted to a hostage among an immature bunch of cyber-punks. Declan had done all of, what, knock out a drunk that had been harassing Aoba? He could only imagine that everyone in the bar that had been muttering about him had been punched themselves at one point, or was friends with someone who had been…and Aoba could still only think it must have been deserved. Declan was being too kind, too considerate for him to imagine otherwise.

Oh, but here came more questions. Speaker. Another thing that had been mentioned a couple times previously, now much more strongly emphasized.

“Um, okay. Who’s this Speaker guy, again?”

"The Speaker is...an unofficial leader, I suppose. He advises a lot of us. While the Vanguard are the military leaders, the Speaker is the political and spiritual leader. He's the Voice of the Traveler," Declan tried to answer, nodding towards the massive orb in the sky.

"He's been around for as long as anyone can remember, really. He heads the Consensus of ruling factions and keeps the peace, and advises Guardians in matters not pertaining directly to battle. That's left to the Vanguard. He's...well, you'll see. He's a good man," Declan floundered for a response, shrugging slightly and gesturing with one hand towards the back of the courtyard. They passed trade buildings, a postal office of sorts, a large computerized board full of statistics and other details that Guardians talked in front of and negotiated assignments from. There were beautiful red-leafed trees and tended grass between smooth stone walkways; all a quiet space for Guardians to live, where otherwise their lives were full of chaos and combat.

Passing through a massive gate and walking down a much less busy path, Declan led Aoba out to the other side of the tower that faced beyond the wall of the city, looking out into forest, fields and mountains. The view was even more stunning, and certainly an enormous difference from the cityscape.

"Wait here. Try to collect yourself. I'll be back to collect you and take you to the Speaker, then I'll leave you with him to talk for a bit. Afterwards I'll take you home, alright?" He waited for an answer, patient and respectful, knowing it was all probably a lot to take in. He had no reason to rush beyond wanting to make sure he did everything by the book and covered all his bases. As soon as he was sure Aoba would be alright alone, Declan departed. It was a good half an hour before he returned, indicating the path with one hand and guiding Aoba to a massive solarium of sorts.

"I'll be right back. I promise," Declan murmured, resting his heavy hand on Aoba's shoulder before stepping away and leaving the blue-haired man to explore. It was a short time after that a robed figured descended stairs to the side. He watched Aoba, head tilting slightly before he spoke up, detailing things that he had explained to innumerable Guardians over the course of countless years. With a few changes to meet the circumstances, of course. He didn't think aoba was a Guardian. Not yet, at any rate.

"Declan vouches for you. He's a very loyal and respectable man. Trusting. Perhaps too much, sometimes, but he has good intuition. Do you want to stay with him?" the Speaker asked in his soothing, grandfatherly manner, masked face gazing towards Aoba.

"You may have quarters of your own - we have the space. He is not aware of this, so I pose the question to you."

It was obviously some sort of test, though the purpose of which Aoba could only guess. Declan was nowhere to be found, leaving the entire decision up to the young man, out of time and space.

It was…incredible wasn’t even a strong enough word for it. Aoba felt like he was in over his head, surrounded by things he could barely understand. While Declan was gone, Aoba woke Ren back up at last. The Allmate poked his head out of the satchel and Aoba stroked between his furry little ears for comfort as he conferred with his old friend for the while, catching him up with everything that had happened in the last…hour? Taking that portal away from the Deckers had been rushed, only half-planned, a moment of opportunity taken while backs were turned….

Now Aoba kept waiting to be asked who he was, how he’d gotten here, what he was doing. It didn’t happen. The masked face of the Speaker was a little intimidating at first, but the voice behind it was kind and patient. He explained and answered things without any sign of frustration or impatience, as far as Aoba could tell.

When at last it turned around that a question was asked of him, Aoba was surprised by the contents of it. As usual, the look was easily read upon his face as he looked from the great hovering shape of the Traveler and back to the Speaker.

Quarters of his own, huh? Then he wouldn’t have to impose on Declan’s space! Except then…he’d be taking up a room that could go to a Guardian, right? Someone actually from this world…fighting to protect it from whatever the Darkness really was. Aoba was just a drifter here; after a little consideration, the thought of taking up a space all by himself, that he’d done nothing to earn, made him feel awkward and self-conscious. But, then again, was it ruder to intrude in Declan’s space? Or was changing his mind on the hospitality that the pale giant had offered the greater social gaffe?

Aoba rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to decide, looking away from the Speaker’s masked face with a weird feeling like he was being judged, or maybe seen through. It couldn’t possibly be a question with a wrong answer, could it? But of the two options presented to him, despite his thoughts going back and forth on the possibilities, his gut instinct kept saying….

“…Until he decides he’d rather I not be around, I’m happy to stay with Declan. He’s helped me so much already without me even asking, and I feel like it would be rude to turn my back on that already. Besides…” Aoba was aware he was sort of rambling with his train of thought, but he’d never been good at concealing what he really thought of things—good or bad.

“…I get the feeling he doesn’t have a lot of friends. Maybe I can be one, at least while I’m here.”

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