rekindledtitan | Excerpt 002: Traveler's Rest

Entry tags:

Excerpt 002: Traveler's Rest

TYPE: Personal log

LOCATION: The Last City, Earth

PARTIES: Three [3]. One [1] Ghost-type, [1] Guardian-type, designate Blaze-37, Class Titan [

rekindledtitan ], One [1] Unconfirmed, designate Willis, Verity [

brave_heart_verity ]; [other parties redacted]

ASSOCIATIONS: Multiversal Nexus; Verity Willis; Earth; The City; Vanguard; Blaze-37; Glass-smiths

An Exo ought to be good at waiting. They're soldier and machine both, trained for stoicism and designed for tireless analysis. Blaze sometimes thinks she’s the only one built who ever gets bored. (Aside from Cayde, maybe, and he makes it sound like he's had a very long time to learn.)

Her patrol concluded without much incident, she paces back to the Forum, guns still dozing at her back and her Ghost zipping curiously from one side to the other ahead of her. It murmurs its observations to her in passing, and she responds gladly. A fight would be better, but she’ll take the idle chatter. Her memory is brimming with new half-processed data, even from one patrol in the Nexus – odd discussions heard and alien kitchens smelt, the weird spiky grass in the park crunching under her boots, so many- one hundred and forty-three new faces since the last trip, ninety-one human by visual-

But she isn’t one for dwelling on things. So she circles the Forum to take in the sights, cutting her route through the spot where she and Verity last spoke to make sure of spotting her friend.

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The Ghost notices her expression change, and looks up at her curiously. Blaze is not only distracted in avoiding the worst turbulence, but she's fond of the protective storm and sort of assumes Verity will like flying through it as much as she does.

"The Pillars. Technically they're all supposed to be the Second Pillar if I remember the story right, but I guess the name sorta drifted." There's a jolt as the dampers lag in compensating for a buffeting, and she pulls up another readout to check the sensors. "Heh, we're playing a little rough today. So who's Tiffany?"

She doesn't mind the ride. It's kind of fun. And it's not that she doesn't see the appeal of a raging storm as a line of defense. It's just. Thunder gods. Her last encounter with one was not pleasant. When she notices Ghost looking at her she gives him a small smile. She's fine, just moody.

"Oh. What's the First Pillar? Tiffany's is a famous jewelry store, particularly well-known for its diamonds. Sorry. I guess diamonds aren't really forever." A beat. "The advertising slogan for diamonds is 'diamonds are forever', to try to guilt-pressure men into buying expensive gifts for their wives. Like a useless piece of bling is somehow better than a more practical gift because it won't wear out I guess?"

On the bright side, it turns out all the hammer-throwers around here set them on fire instead. Because it's fun!

"Hmm. There's something in a lasting token, but symbols ought to be something you put care into. I guess you haven't learned to grow diamonds yet?" Because obviously then the price of diamond will drop to what she knows as normal (high, but not particularly more than good plasteel and much less than really high-quality materials).

"Anyway, the First Pillar is made up of the Guardians, and the Traveler's power. Third is the Wall, and the Fourth is the City and her people. All the cornerstones of the our defense."

Setting things on fire is fun. So long as it isn't Loki.

"Ah, no. Not yet. Or if they have, they aren't on the market yet." Tony Stark might be hiding a whole diamond-growing factory somewhere; she wouldn't put it past him! (It would help explain how his daddy could give away all those bracelets.)

"That's both poetic and structurally sound. Impressive." She might be teasing just a bit, but mostly it's a sincere compliment.

Nah, they have a long list of other gods they'd rather set fire to.

"That's too bad. It's a useful trick, makes it way easier to get decent tools." Not that taking some manipulation out of human courtship is a bad thing either.

"That's the way we like to build things," she agrees, giving an amused look up at Verity. Between the ship and Ghost, she's not worried about the sharp snowy mountain peaks they're slipping between. "But you'll see - we should be through any second now."

No sooner has she uttered the word than the jumpship soars into clear skies and sunlight. The trembling of the hull vanishes as it stops fighting the sky. The last mountains are falling away beneath them; ahead lies the imposing Wall, mounted with its mighty gun batteries, and beyond the City stretching to the horizon. That might be hard to notice, because both are dwarfed by the vast silver sphere which hovers over the City center like a second moon. Its diameter must measure in miles. Its surface is scarred, the underside dark and ragged.

That's... good?

"I'm sure we'll get there. Would have." Sigh. She gives herself a little shake and then meets Blaze's amusement with her own. "I'm sure I will."

And boy does she. She takes in the view in near silence, although there is the occasional sound that reveals how impressed she is. She's seen beautiful cities before, she's lived in one, but something about the balance between the Traveler's sphere and the city below is breathtaking. Hopefully, they won't mind her taking her time to take it all in?

It has its benefits, however rare.

"Quite a sight, isn't it? Even Blaze takes a moment to admire the view, before she gets back to double-checking they're locked into the right course. She figures it's a bit different for Verity, who must have seen plenty of living cities before. But that doesn't diminish this one.

Other jumpships cross the view, darting and swooping through the sky. Aside from the fortifications (and looming alien presence) it's possible to see that the City has relatively few skyscraper-height towers rising through the shreds of mist above it. It's laced with silver trackways, too, but from this height no motion can be made out.

They're descending as they cruise toward the Wall and the tower that rises from it, squared and sturdy with a broad upper section for the main plaza and halls. Twin tines sweep upward from the central building at its peak, streaming bright red banners. It's clearly a place built to withstand sieges, but there's a certain grace in its architecture; there are fluttering pennants and trees shading open courtyards. It's vigilant, but not unwelcoming.

"We can transmat right into the main plaza," Blaze says when they're close, handing the ship back to autopilot.

"It's beautiful." Every city has its beauty and having known one for so long doesn't make her unable to appreciate others. Any flower in the heart of the desert is a precious thing, however small it may be. She has so many questions, but she bites her lip to keep from distracting Blaze while she's piloting. There will be time for questions later.

The tower is something of a surprise. She's used to military structures being, well, military: utilitarian and uncomfortable. But this is lovely, welcoming. It's a home, not just a place to store people, and it's doubly an honor to be invited to visit.

"Okay. That's convenient." Auto-parking cars would be so convenient. It must be doubly so for a spaceship.

Even more than cars, ships need to be able to mind themselves for a few hours. And congested skyways would just be a nightmare.

Blaze stows her helmet at the side of her chair as they curve around. "All right, get ready to find your feet!"

That last applies more to Blaze, since when they materialize on the paving stones she drops a little from her sitting position. They both have a moment to catch their balance in the sudden sunlight and the rush of noise as a ship - their ship, in fact - swoops overhead and climbs back into the sky.

They've landed among the lawns at the front of the plaza, where a sturdy railing separates them from the city view. Ahead some low steps lead to the busy main plaza, between fern-topped pillars and tall red banners shaking in the breeze. The air is crisp and clean and quite chilly.

Edited 2015-10-06 00:00 (UTC)

"Oh, that's easy. I keep them at the end of my legs." But landing is still not the easiest proposition, and there's a touch of wobbliness. It's hard to adjust human senses so quickly. When she can focus on it she watches the ship flying away. "That's yours?"

She wants to go enjoy the view. That railing is calling to her. But she knows she's supposed to go for medical testing first. The view will still be there afterward. "You sure it's okay for me to be around all these people before my medical tests?"

Blaze looks up after the departing ship. It's a chunky little thing with boxy engines, but at least it's all one shade of white now, the patching to its hull made seamless under Shipwright Holliday's care. "Yeah, that's the outside. Just got repainted for the overhaul. Looks a lot better than it did a few weeks back, believe me."

When Verity looks like she has her balance, Blaze will lead the way up the steps and to the left, passing the low-slung postmaster's building and the blue-skinned young woman at the special orders desk. "Relax. The nearest med station's just over here. Besides, even if you're carrying something we don't have on file, everyone here is effectively immune."

By this she means that everyone in the crowd appears to be an armored Guardian of one type or the others. Plated Titans mingle with Hunters in long patterned cloaks and the robe-like longcoats of the Warlocks in all different colors and styles. There are commonalities, but even at a glance this is not the sort of military that does uniforms. Here and there are other Ghosts - even one or two fly by overhead, floating on their mysterious way.

"It's what's inside that counts. But you two do deserve a ship as well-loved on the outside as on the inside." What? Her quiet advocacy and expert ego-stroking are some of the many perks of her friendship. She learned how to be a friend with a god who has inadequacy issues and hasn't quite figured out that not everybody needs so much of this kind of attention.

"That's convenient." Nothing wrong with a military that doesn't enforce strict uniforms, in her opinion. It's not like the military where she's from is setting a shining example no matter how shining the brass. And more importantly, they seem to know what they and their fellows are doing. If it works for them, who would she be to tell them they're doing it wrong?

Being an exceptionally secure sense of herself, Blaze just laughs. "All this flattery and I haven't even bought you a drink yet!"

That said, she's honestly hopeful that Verity will like her home (and its people), and cheerfully elaborates on the medical arrangements. "Well, when the Wall's under siege, you don't want to have to look far for a doctor. Not everyone stationed here is a Guardian. The ones in the Tower are manned all the time when I pass them."

"It isn't flattery if it's true," she counters easily. "And I'd know if it weren't."

So far so good on that score, Blaze. "That's a good point. You must have a lot of medical personnel, which is good. I guess being evacuated to behind the front lines isn't so much of an option during a siege." There's a brief pause, and then her tone goes from thoughtful to worried. "Do they happen often?"

"Got me there," Blaze chuckles. She picks out an open door at the side of the plaza to head for, one marked by a serpent-twined rod painted in green on a white cross. All the important signs here are trilingual: just inside the door, green lettering on the wall assures them there's a medical station down the short ramp, repeating in Portuguese and Chinese.

"Every few decades, I think. The Fallen are always testing our defenses. It's been a while since we've had a sustained assault, but there's still no safe ground past the Wall. One of our tasks is to keep our enemies too fractured to co-ordinate another threat like that."

A caduceus? It's nice to see some things don't change too much. The white cross is a bit different, but there's already a lot of red around. It certainly stands out. She doesn't recognize the other languages, only knowing that one is a Romance language and one is probably Asian.

"Oh, that's not too often. Hopefully, we'll be able to do that soon. I mean. If I'm allowed to help." It's not a sure thing and she doesn't want to presume. "And I suppose lots of little attacks keeps your side sharp."

Standing out is the purpose of the sign, to make it clear in an emergency where help can be found. Otherwise the clinic is a little tucked away. There's a well-lit if snug little waiting area, with a small counter behind which a robot stands. In contrast to Blaze, it has a thin rectangular head with a single optic and no other facial features, but the same symbol from above the door is painted on its chestplate and there aren't any clothes to disguise just how gaunt its limbs are. It folds its hands and looks at them attentively as they approach.

"Our Vanguards aren't the kind to turn down friendly help," Blaze says, albeit with far more assurance than experience. "And yeah, it's good practice. Hah, that and arena matches in the Crucible. Hey there," she adds to the desk frame. "We've got a new arrival to the City, needs a standard check-up and inoculations."

"Of course." The frame's voice is pleasant and slightly feminine, although the electronic edge is much stronger than an Exo's. It taps at the console beside it. "Just a moment, please."

"Be right with you!" calls a male voice from behind the screen, because the clinic is really too small for any privacy when it's quiet.

"You have an arena?" She's never understood the appeal of that kind of sport, but understanding people has never been part of her particular curse. And who is she to tell fully-formed beings what they're allowed to consent to?

The robot in reception is new, but otherwise, it's very much like any other doctor's office. Mostly she's noticing the lack of old magazines. But the receptionist gets a smile, and the doctor gets a giggle. "Thank you."

If they hang around outside long enough Verity might catch the PA admonishing Guardians (again) for recreational Tower-jumping, which will tell her all she needs to know about their sense of fun and games.

Okay, that plus the spontaneous dance numbers.

"Sure," Blaze confirms, leaning on the counter. "A whole bunch of 'em. Not inside the City, of course, they're all reclaimed sites across the system. The Crucible's just what it sounds like - a way for Guardians to refine their skills against each other."

"Speaking for myself, I'm just happy I don't have to patch any of you up afterward." The man who steps around the screen looks to be in his early thirties: dark-skinned and round-featured, with black hair curling down past his chin. The good news is, a thousand years of linguistic drift haven't been allowed to make English incomprehensible, but his accent is going to be rather peculiar. His tunic is light blue and short-sleeved, making it the kind one can only wear indoors here.

He nods respectfully to Blaze and smiles sincerely at Verity. Despite seeming a little surprised as he looks her over - from the request he was expecting a starving, shaken refugee. "Hello. I'm Doctor Fen Saab. Can I ask your name?"

Humans do the same kind of thing for fun. They just need a little more special equipment to make sure they survive. It doesn't seem so weird to her, although the people on the ground might not find it so funny.

The spontaneous dance numbers, on the other hand... this, she must see.

"Makes sense. Everyone needs a place to practice."

She gives the doctor a shy but friendly smile when he appears. The accent doesn't throw her, although she wonders about it. Growing up in New York, she's heard all sorts of accents; it's always a little strange to not recognize one. Still, it's English, and that's a relief.

"Verity Willis. It's nice to meet you." Do they shake hands in the City? Or is that not allowed before she's had her shots?

The doctor hesitates a very little, but hides it well as he shakes hands. Sometimes best quarantine practice needs to take a backseat to gaining a new patient's trust. And from the way his eyes flick to Blaze and her Ghost, he trusts one would warn him if she were carrying anything exceptionally virulent. Instead, Blaze just gives him a friendly nod.

"The pleasure is mine, to welcome you to the safety of the City. If you'd like to come through, I'll just give you a quick examination. The Guardian here can stay if you like."

"We may be able to help with explanations," Ghost suggests.

"Weren't planning on going anywhere," Blaze agrees (perhaps missing the doctor's intended senstivity toward his actual patient).

He's going to feel silly for that hesitation when he finds out. Or maybe he'll feel silly for letting her touch anything. Hard to say really.

"It's fine if Blaze wants to come. And like Ghost said, they can help explain some things." And keep Verity from saying too much, if that's a concern. She should have asked about that before. Stupid space views distracting her. But she sees no reason to be shy, she doubts there will be anything new or interesting seen by her friends during the exam. "What sorts of tests will you be doing?"

"That will be helpful, thank you- ah, both." He means it, especially because a Ghost on hand is very good for data analysis. Dr Saab shows her through to the little examination area, which is somewhat larger to allow for his workstation, the adjustable bed and space for people to crowd around the patient. While he explains, he motions an invitation for her to sit up on the bed, and starts fetching things out from a set of airtight drawers.

"We'll do some very simple tests to start with, okay? First I'm just going to take some swabs from your skin and throat, then I'll draw a little bit of blood from you if that's okay. Those will help me to understand what kind of diseases you may have had before compared to the ones here in the City. It will also tell me if there are any substances here that you might have a bad - that is, an allergic reaction to." He steals a glance at her face: he seems to be struggling to decide at what level he ought to explain all this. She seems very comfortable in the clinic (also, very clean, properly nourished and well-dressed) but there are exactly no guarantees about what medical knowledge a person born on the outside might have.

He doesn't offer Blaze a seat, maybe because she very promptly assumes a position against the far wall, leaning casually against it. She's watching with an air of curiosity for the moment, the Ghost hanging back beside her.

She looks amused. The doctor is kind and seems to have a good bedside manner, and she can appreciate that. But when he's done explaining, she looks to Blaze without really responding. She's either asking for permission or giving a warning.

Probably the latter, since she's just going to tell him now. "Dr. Saab. I'm not a refugee Blaze found wandering outside of the city. I'm from an alternate dimension." Really man, how many refugees have shiny new glasses and sweet ink? "So yeah, you're probably going to want to do all kinds of cultures. I don't know of any allergies, but it's probably a good idea to double-check since things here are so different. And yes, you have my permission for a blood draw. I'm not really afraid of needles."

Blaze shrugs at Verity's look, equally amused - and when she lets the thrall out of the bag, the Exo breaks out in a positive chortle (though the Ghost flashes in alarm). The doctor's rummaging comes to an abrupt halt and for a minute he just stares at her. Then her escort. Look, he knew he didn't have the whole picture but... but...

Well, he couldn't have seen that coming.

"I- I'm afraid I don't understand," he says, straightening up and looking helplessly perplexed. "This isn't some sort of practical joke, is it?" Blaze gets a suspicious look.

"No," she answers, in a tone of such easy certainty as to leave no doubt. "Genuine alternate timeline, pre-Golden Age by our calendars. Ghost'll confirm that."

"I'm not sure if we're supposed to-" the Ghost murmurs, but Blaze cuts it off with a snort.

"He's a doctor. He'd put it together anyway. Holding out on him will just make his analysis less complete."

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So after I went with the Chile theory I find out there's 50/50 odds the City's in Nepal after all

No problem. We can retcon or headcanon things however you want.

Eh, I don't think it'll matter too much; we can leave Schrodinger's City in Chile for now

Okay, just let me know if that ever changes :)

No problem :)

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