orendalogs | IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!

"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.”

There was no smile to be seen, but the mood in the air lightened significantly and the Speaker's approval was easy enough to sense as he inclined his head and turned away, walking back up the staircase and gesturing for Aoba to follow. Above the solarium was the Speaker's library and lab where he studied and pondered the mysteries of the universe. there were all manner of books and crystals scattered among more advanced technology, giving a sense of warmth, age and familiarity to the otherwise shockingly futuristic surroundings. Even the floor was warm hardwood.

"If ever you need to ask questions, or feel confused or conflicted, you may always come to me. I am always available for those in need, and my library is open to those seeking knowledge. While you settle in and try to find your bearings, please don't hesitate to reach out or educate yourself," the Speaker encouraged, tilting his head slightly to regard Aoba before looking over the young man's shoulder.

"Our friend has returned. Go. Get rested and fed, and perhaps you'll have a better head for things in a few days."

Gesturing lightly towards the stairs, the Speaker nodded, turning away to focus on the pages of a book open on his long desk. A Ghost of his own hovered nearby, silent and watchful in a way Declan's own Ghost was much more chatty. The Guardian was standing at the entrance to the solarium, respectfully distant so that he couldn't accidentally overhear anything. when Aoba rejoined him Declan couldn't keep the flickers of hope and concern from his usually impassive face.

"Is everything alright, then?" he asked, staying a neutral-toned as possible.

Aoba could almost start to think that this whole Chosen One business wasn’t all bad. Steelport had been miserable for where it had dumped him. Probably it had had good people in the world somewhere, but Aoba’s specific circumstances had been lousy. This place, on the other hand, he couldn’t believe his luck. It had started with the drunk but all seemed to be going uphill from here. There was a war, yes, but the front lines were elsewhere. Here he was safe, he would be fed, and he had shelter. He had a base of operations to search for his next portal out of here….

Still, Aoba was glad to see Declan back again and jogged eagerly back to the Guardian with a relieved smile.

“Yeah! He was really…informative, and he said I can come back with any questions. I don’t think I’ll understand everything any time soon, but I feel better having talked to him.”

He glanced back briefly, hesitated at a thought, then looked back up at Declan to meet that silver gaze directly. “Ah, but there’s one thing he said that you should probably know. I told him I’m happy staying with you, but let me know if having me around ever gets weird or uncomfortable, okay? The Speaker said there’s space available that I could have for my own, but I’m not going to ask for that unless I bother you, so…don’t hesitate to tell me so if you change your mind, okay?” A beat, and an impulsive addition: “We’ll still be friends and I won’t be offended.”

Friends. It really wasn't a word he heard often, though he thought about it a lot. He was a friend to others where not many were friends to him. Where for most people the matter was largely cut and dry, for Declan it was a complicated dance. He never expected a return on what he gave, but to hear someone else suggest the merit of the connection, particularly having only known him to buy a drink and deliver a mean right hook, was...nice.

"I leave it up to you. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't believe I could handle the extra mouth. If the Speaker offered the room, he won't rescind the offer later, so if you change your mind, the room will still be there, I'm sure. Mm...but...it might be easier for you to stay with someone, even if it's not me, at least until you understand more about where you are and what you're doing. Again, though, I won't make your choices for you. Just know that I have the room, and it's ready for you."

The ball was back in Aoba's hands, Declan making as much effort as possible not to look like her wanted Aoba there. He wasn't desperate, by any stretch, and it wasn't a grab for company as much as he wanted to do the right thing and it wouldn't hurt to have someone actually living in the quarters. Maybe he'd actually come back once in awhile instead of avoiding the empty space...

"If you're coming with me, though, I'll take you by requisitions. We can get more blankets and pillows and I'm sure Miss Everis or Miss Levante will have clothes. I'd offer mine...but..." he trailed off with a shrug, knowing full well aoba would swim in his clothing. One of many downsides to being uncommonly large. "If you want..." he was quick to add, not wanting to come off as too insistent or pushy in any way. A lot of Declan's speaking was spent dancing around whether or not he was being overbearing - virtually impossible for how little he conversed with people, but sometimes others assumed a big body included a big ego, when in fact Declan had very little at all.

Aoba got the picture -- the "not imposing" part of it, that is. Well that settled it, then. He wasn't going to dance around back and forth, himself. There was no need to be like 'no really, tell me if you want me gone, it's okay' over and over. If Declan said it was okay then Aoba would trust in that answer.

"Alright, lead the way," Aoba answered, pleased and with no look of doubt or hesitance about him. Maybe he was naive, maybe he was too willing to call someone a friend after his time with the Deckers, but what would be would be.

"Oh, and... there's someone else I should introduce," he added. Aoba pulled his satchel around so it hung in front of his stomach and lifted the flap. Ren, still awake and aware, wriggled his head up and tucked his paws over the edge of the carrier right away. "This is Ren, my Allmate. Ren, this is Declan, who I was telling you about."

The little Pomeranian promptly wagged his tail, speaking up in his startlingly deep voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for your assistance and hospitality towards Aoba, Declan."

Animals still existed on Earth, certainly, but seeing them as pets was rare, simply because the need to own animals for personal comfort had evaporated over the course of the wars and rapid decline of humanity. Zoos were a thing of the past entirely, so aside from birds and general wildlife, Declan had never seen anything like a little fluffy lapdog. There were a lot of responses a person could have, but the Guardian's was perhaps one of the best, with the way he lit up in surprise and smiled, quickly clutching his hands together behind his back so he wouldn't reach out reflexively.

"He speaks?"

"He's an inorganic intelligence, like me!" Ghost replied brightly, spinning his spines and floating down eye to eye with Ren. A blue light filtered over the Allmate, a quick scan, and Ghost was patient enough to wait in case Ren wished to do the same thing.

"So he's a replica of a dog, but with human intelligence?" Declan asked, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. He didn't want to say it, but he certainly wondered if that wasn't all a bit...degrading? But of course, he lived in a world where robotic humans had fought for and achieved racial independence and were just as alive and human as anyone born flesh and blood, by belief as much as law.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Ren. I hope the two of you are comfortable in my home. It isn't much, but it's yours now, too."

Aoba ruffled Ren’s ears again, silently thanking him for going along with the introduction. Then he folded the flap over all the way, so that it was between his body and the bag itself as he slung it back to his hip, allowing Ren to continue peering out and observing things.

“He’s all Allmate, so he’s more than just some dog replica. He’s been with me forever, right, Ren?”

“That would be an exaggeration.”

“No, that would be a figure of speech,” Aoba retorted, laughing before he looked back to Declan and Ghost. “Back home, at least, he can perform online tasks and help me with things.”

“Currently I am unable to detect or access any local information networks, but I am still able to monitor Aoba’s condition. In truth, he is currently in less than 100% condition after his captivi—”

“Oi, Ren! You don’t need to put it like that!” Aoba cut in awkwardly, putting his hand briefly over Ren’s head to interrupt him. “You’d feel kind of lousy too if you only got fed junk food and energy drinks.”

"Junk food and..." Declan shook his head, not really sure he understood but unwilling to sit on it. His fascination could wait, for the moment he wanted to get everything situated and most importantly, apparently get Aoba proper food.

"All make it quick, then," he remarked, more to himself than anyone else. "Ghost, go to Miss Levante and have her put together a full kit like she would for a new Guardian. Just tell her it's civilian, she'll know what to do. I'm going to talk to Miss Everis."

He nodded once, the little orb spinning off in a hurry, not questioning Declan. The Guardian then turned back to Aoba with an oddly strained look, waving him in the direction of the building that sat in the middle of the courtyard from before.

"Miss Everis is a lot more difficult to deal with, but she's got a lot more to offer by way of unique clothes and food, among other things that are harder to get up here. You can get clothes to wear that aren't going to be your environmental suit, and I can get maybe...a nice bed or something for Ren. If that is acceptable?"

Aoba lifted his hand from Ren again but the Allmate stayed silent this time. His little doggy face was hard to read if you didn’t know him, but he’d accepted the ‘chastising’ with good grace. While Aoba fell in step with Declan (as much as could be with their difference in stride, of course), Ren went back to quietly observing.

“We’re not going to be picky,” Aoba turned to reassure Declan instead, smiling a bit sheepishly, but still more confidently than before. He was warming up to the situation, after all. Hope. Aoba had hope again. “Anything that can be spared for us, we’ll gratefully accept.”

"Well, she's going to want your measurements," the Guardian sighed as they rounded the corner to face a very lovely woman behind a shop counter.

"Ahhhh, Declan, you giant angel. finally come to upgrade that...charming sparrow of yours?" the woman drawled, voice elegantly accented as she smirked up at the taller of the two men. when she caught a glimpse of Aoba, her expression changed to something a bit more shrewd and business-like.

"Bring a friend, did you?"

"Yes ma'am. This is Aoba. He'll be staying in the tower. I thought you might have some clothes less...uh..."

"Less Guardian-y more Civilian-y?" she finished wryly, earning a nod from Declan. "Sure, let's see what I've got. It's gonna cost you, though. No glimmer here, sweetheart. Silver or nothing." Again Declan nodded, reaching into a buttoned pouch on his utility belt and pulling out a small bag jingling with coins, presumably. He handed it to the woman who nodded, pulled out a tablet and brought up a catalog on it's screen.

"Go on, handsome," she purred in Aoba's direction, earning a long-suffering sigh from Declan. "Browse at your leisure. There's enough coin here for a whole, if small, wardrobe. Get you sizes tagged in and pick your poisons. I'll have them sent around to your quarters--"

"He's staying with me."

"Oh? Well, isn't that the cutest," the woman drawled, propping her chin in her hands and batting her lashes at them both, making Declan shift uncomfortably and turn away, leaving Aoba to pick from a range of clothing wide and varied from vintage styles to Aoba's modern and on into the style of the locals.

"Do try and be fashion forward, sweetheart. I hate selling brown paper bags."

And Aoba’s face was pale again. Oh, not from the woman’s demeanor or even the vaguely flirty, perhaps even suggestive remarks, oh no. He’d heard the jingling of coins and had played enough RPGs in his time to understand the implications of silver.

“Declan!” he blurted, rounding back towards the Guardian with his blanching turning back to blushing. Ashamed more than embarrassed, he’d been taking solace in the fact that food and housing was free, and didn’t ‘requisitions’ mean supplies that were doled out at need and not paid for? So he’d totally assumed—

“You already bought me a drink—you didn’t say you’d have to pay for clothes for me!” That just…that wasn’t fair! To Declan! Aoba was certain that money had to be hard-earned and he knew there had to be better things to be spending it on than some bathroom-crasher like him!

Just like that, Aoba’s hopeful confidence had turned around into an embarrassed fluster.

The Guardian startled, drawing back slightly and widening those silver eyes even as Tess leaned away from the counter and dropped the pouch of coins somewhere safe. No way she was giving those up!

"I don't have to. I want to," Declan replied earnestly, blinking slowly and tilting his head. "Miss Levante will provide most of the things you need free of cost, but for uncommon items, like a personal wardrobe or food that doesn't come from the fabrications, you have to come to Miss Everis."

"Yep. I'm sort of like a legal black market, around here. If it makes you feel more comfortable, you can call me the commissary. Doesn't matter to me. But what I've got isn't easy to get, and it costs. Don't worry. Declan here can afford it. He's a nasty penny-pincher," the woman scowled playfully. Declan merely shrugged in reply. It wasn't that so much as he had absolutely nothing to spend money on other than ammunition and occasionally parts in the hangar. And that was so rare that he had enough money saved where the banking droid recommended he stop acquiring funds.

"It's alright, Aoba. I promise," Declan offered, the gravity of his voice reflecting the sincerity of his expression. "I don't have anything else to spend money on. Some clothes and a real meal shouldn't be an issue. Please?"

Aoba had been ready to fight. No way was he going to take anything that Declan had to pay for, no way. He could get by on the free stuff and impose on Declan as little as possible, he would argue with the lady until she gave Declan his money back, he would just cross his arms and refuse—

And then Declan went and said please.

It froze Aoba right in place it did, mouth open and breath caught the very moment before he’d been about to launch into a tirade about how that was very kind and very generous and absolutely unnecessary—and then the big stupid giant went and said please. Like a balloon with a leak Aoba slowly deflated, complete with a wheezing sound as he had to let that breath out in something other than a self-conscious outburst.

How the hell could anyone go and call such a…such a sweet guy anything like ‘Decker’!?

“You…!” Aoba made one last attempt to still make his protests, but failed utterly. He had the very distinct feeling that saying ‘no’ to Declan after that would be about as satisfying as kicking a puppy. A big, silver-eyed puppy.

“F…fine! But don’t think I’m going to let this slide and never pay you back somehow!” It was the only ‘threat’ he could manage, but by the blush overtaking his face all the way to his ears as he spun around and focused with extra intensity upon the tablet catalog, it had all the sting of a wet rag.

"If you need work I could always use another package runner," tess spoke up, thumbing over her shoulder at the piles of crates and boxes behind her in the shop. "Never had a shortage of labor here, and I'm sure not going to do it."

For his part, Declan looked relieved, nodding to Tess and pulling the catalogue closer. If Aoba had said no again or tried to reason out what it was a bad idea, the Guardian wouldn't have had the ability to protest in turn. He caved easily in the face of most verbal debates, unwilling to argue and much more content to let people have their ways. He stated his case one time and one time only. If a person fought him after that, he either assumed himself wrong somehow or decided it was easier to let another person have their way. When Aoba relented, it was pleasing to be able to do something nice. It was probably the first time he'd won at anything he'd wanted to do.

"You don't have to pay me back, but I won't stop you from doing it. I understand what it can feel like when you assume you're in someone's debt. Hopefully by the time you feel you're ready to pay me back, you'll also understand that you don't need to. At any rate, you should place your order. That includes ingredients for whatever you want to eat tonight. I don't cook often, but I like to think I have some proficiency in it. I'll make whatever you want. Anything I can't make on my own, Ghost can help with."

This…guy.

“Ab-so-lute-ly not,” Aoba retorted, emphasizing each syllable but not snapping. Lifting his attention from the catalogue and staring ‘down’ his benefactor as if the Guardian did not, in fact, have a whole foot of height over him.

Jab. Aoba lifted a finger and poked Declan right in the middle of his breastplate. “If you’re paying for the stuff, the least I can do is cook it for you! And I’m not going to change my mind just because you make a puppy face and say ‘please’ this time!”

Now all Aoba had to do was find ingredients for something he was fairly confident he could cook without ruining. Maybe nikujaga. Cooking his own favorite food (barring the fact that it wasn’t Granny cooking it) might be counted as cheating a little bit, if it was supposed to be for someone else, but it was hard to mess up.

There was a brief moment of invisible panic as Declan drew back, certain he was about to get the refusal he'd been trying to avoid. When all of Aoba's vitriol was spent on refusing to let the Guardian cook, a quiet, relieved sigh passed full lips. He was startled again by the finger prodding his chest, but only because 1: he was wearing armor and 2: who did that to a man his size if not to start a fight? Fortunately Declan wasn't prone to reflexive aggression anywhere other than the field.

"If that's what you want, I don't mind. I've never been cooked for, before."

"That you remember," Tess grunted, rolling her eyes in amusement at the display the two were putting on. "You Guardians are all depressingly tragic like that. Ugh. Hurry up, you two. You're making it hard to drum up business!"

Aoba was not exactly known for sound decision-making skills…but on the other hand, his own intuition for people didn’t fail him too often. Although then again, when it did….

Well, nevertheless, here he was, giving Declan a taste of what having Aoba for a friend could mean, bickering with (at?) him with all the familiarity he would have with someone he’d known at least a while and not just a guy whose first impression had been punching out somebody in a grungy bar bathroom.

It mollified Aoba enough for now and he turned back to Tess and her catalogue with a new intensity of purpose. He picked through things as efficiently as he could manage, picking clothes that were as familiar and frugal as he could find. For meal ingredients he went also familiar but less frugal, feeling fair and justified given that the meal would go to feed Declan as well.

By the end of his picking and choosing, Aoba still felt self-conscious for being ‘treated’ like this, but he’d blown off his head of steam and, really, it wasn’t like he’d ever been anything like actually mad.

“Alright…I think that should do it. That alright, Declan?”

"If you are content, yes," Declan replied, turning back to face Aoba before nodding to Tess. The woman sighed, grumbling as she counted out coins from the purse and returned a fair amount to the Guardian. Evidently she was more professional than she pretended. either way, Aoba didn't spend much and Declan recovered the remains of his silver.

"I'll send the delivery around as soon as I can. Probably tomorrow at the earliest. But the food stuff," she murmured, looking down at the tablet and tapping a few things, "Give it about half an hour."

"Plenty of time, thank you Miss Everis."

"It's Tess, Declan. Tess. Ugh. Go on, you lot!" Tess barked, waving them off. Declan inclined his head politely before backing away and heading off towards the back gardens again. They were soon rejoined by Ghost, who said nothing but did a quick scan of Aoba and spun about.

"Miss Levante has everything now. She said she'll send it all right over. I forgot to scan for his measurements, but she'll have it all now. Hello again Aoba, Ren. Did everything go well?" Ghost asked cheerily as they all arrived at a lift near the gardens.

"I live on the 97th floor," Declan explained, stepping into the elevator and pressing a button. "I'm on the city side, though. If you want to see the mountain side it's easier from the courtyards, in case you want some fresh air," he offered. When they arrived on his floor is was a long steel and concrete hall, feet echoing on the floor as they walked.

"I have to warn you...I don't really have much in the way of decoration or anything. I don't...actually stay here very much."

The jingling return of what seemed to be a still-significant amount of silver made Aoba feel much better about things, his expression lightening drastically when he saw the pouch get handed back. It made his own thanks towards the merchant that much more genuine, rather than strained, before he fell back into Declan’s wake.

While Ren seemed to see fit to inform Ghost exactly how the exchange with Tess had gone, naturally assuming that the little construct was similar in nature and function to an Allmate like himself, Aoba’s attention stayed on Declan. His face fell a little at the cautioning, but not from any disappointment.

It was a look of concern, reminded that this world wasn’t all “good luck” just because it had been kind to him so far.

“You’re out on the front lines a lot, huh?”

"Yes," Declan answered, seeing no reason to lie or candy coat things. He looked on with amusement as Ghost and Ren spoke, the two worlds apart insofar as technology went, but no less different in having souls of their own. Granted neither could know the full extent of the other.

"Mostly because I have no reason not to be. All Guardians are given plenty of leave time, but I never take mine." Because there was no one to talk to, nothing to do and nowhere to go when you were so bad at making connections.

“Guess that makes me extra extra lucky you happened to still be in town today,” Aoba observed, though it fell flat as a lighthearted remark even before it had left his mouth and he realized it, too. He sighed immediately afterwards. “Sorry, that came out sounding more flippant than I meant.”

It did assure Aoba of something, though: he needed to tell Declan where he’d really come from. Aoba didn’t know if not being completely honest even mattered when no one so far even seemed to care, but the more Declan did for him, the more Aoba felt unworthy of it. The least Aoba could do in return was tell Declan the whole truth.

He resolved to do so as soon as they got inside Declan’s quarters.

It wasn't that no one cared so much as no one minded, but the distinction was easy to miss. Most Guardians were accustomed to dealing with unusual circumstances; Aoba would soon find out just how strange the future really was.

"It's alright. You're allowed to be a little testy, under the circumstances," Declan smiled gently before gesturing to the wall next to an indentation where the door obviously was.

"Put your hand here and I'll key you in so you can come and go as you like."

Once the system was set up to allow Aoba, Declan opened the door and stepped in. It was a large space, though mostly because it was so empty, everything in bland grays and whites and plain steel. The Floorplan was very open, a large couch in the center of the main room facing a panel that was likely a television. To one side was a small personal kitchen and to the other were two open doors, one to a bathroom, the other to a bedroom. There wereally windows and a balcony all on the side facing the city, ships zooming by, the Traveler in the distance.

The Guardian stepped in and turned, standing by the door and holding a hand out like a host ushering in a guest.

"Please make yourself at home. Ren as well, feel free to go wherever you like," he said with a small nod before looking around with a small frown. Maybe he should have picked up some curtains and some shaders, tried to add some color like other Guardians. Declan hadn't made any efforts to personalize the rooms.

When Aoba realized that the hand-scanner was a higher-tech equivalent of being given an extra set of keys he was almost dumbstruck. That was awfully trusting, wasn't it? Not that Aoba was a person who would abuse that trust, but it still surprised him. Nevermind that he was being given shelter in what was essentially a military barracks, and that misbehaving would have been incredibly stupid....

He was struck again by the Spartan quarters as he stepped inside and looked around. A private space, okay, set up like an apartment more than just what he imagined crew quarters would have. But Declan sure hadn't been kidding, huh? It didn't look lived in at all.

"Please excuse our intrusion," Aoba intoned politely, kneeling briefly and bracing his satchel. Ren hopped right out with a repeat of the same courteous words, himself, and trotted right off to map out the space.

"Thanks, Declan," Aoba added for them both as he stood and closed his satchel back up. Nothing in there now but junk food and energy drinks, stolen as emergency rations from the Deckers.

Well, no time like the present, and no real way to segue into it, so: "We'd really be in a bind without all your help. When I said... that I'd crashed? I mean... I came in through a portal that decided to dump me in that bathroom. One-way. And the side of the portal I started at... was somewhere in the past."

Time travel? Yep. Time travel. Earth was Earth, so it was cities and timelines that Aoba kept jumping, far as he could tell. And now Declan would call him crazy or something, right?

"That sounds very complicated," Declan mused, looking directly at Aoba and blinking slowly. "Ghost?" he added, tilting his head to the orb, who bobbed in the air in response.

"He's telling the truth, or at least believes himself to be," Ghost replied, tilting his spines left and right in a gesture similar to a shrug. "I have no reason to believe he isn't telling the truth. Even the Traveler had incomplete knowledge of the forces at play in the universe. Wormholes are only just being studied in earnest. Portals, if you will. There's nothing that says it can't be true. Especially since the Vex were defeated and the Vault of Glass sealed."

"That's fine then," Declan replied as easily as could be, tilting his head back to regard Aoba once again. Just like that, Aoba's concerns were dismissed. The Guardians weren't the sort of people to be thrown by portals, time, space.

"You're obviously not Vex," Declan added thoughtfully, moving past Aoba into the apartment and looking through the kitchen cabinets. Only one glass...he'd have to buy an extra set of dishes. Shaking his head slightly and getting cold water from the tap, he returned, holding the glass out to the smaller man. "And I would imagine a spy for the Vex wouldn't be organic and would probably be held to higher standards. No offense meant, only that you're not exactly discreet," the Guardian smirked, shrugging slightly.

"If there's a way to get you home, I'm sure the Warlocks can figure it out. Or maybe the Techeuns, if the Queen will permit an audience. I'll ask, if you like. Unless you're running away from home, in which case, you're still welcome to stay here as long as you like."

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