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scythe-nine · 5 years

Text

Prelude

So. I had that one ficlet sitting in my draftfolder for like...... 3 month now. I never uploaded it, never let anyone beta it. I mean, I didn’t write for like.... 2 1/2 years at this point.

I just noticed the urge of uploading it somewhere before going all out on AO3.

What could go wrong with just a small handfull of followers on Tumblr. You won’t just shoot me in the face huh?

Am I right? Am I right or am I right?!

Small sidenote before the thing I produced:

A) I am not a native speaker. So bear with me. Or beer with me. I mean. I like beer.

B) This one was heavily inspired by a song I listened to for months on end.

C) Whoever stumbles upon this and want’s to know more: Just ask away.

The exo's eyes snapped open like an overdrawn bowstring, optic lenses blown wide, ragged breathing the only sound in the dark room.

Just a dream..... was the information his brain provided after what felt like hours. Hours of shivering, reliving moments of the past, hurt without comfort,..... and all this other stuff Scythe tried hard not to think about but that always caught back up to him whenever he tried to rest.

With a grunt that he didn't mean to let go, he pushed himself upright before swinging his legs out of the bed, the silicone padding of his bare feet producing a small thud sound when connecting to the floor.

The hunched over hunter rolled his head in an attempt to get rid of the knots in his neck that couldn't physically be there, one hand still clutching the blanket, while he pinched the bridge of his 'nose' with the other, trying to relieve the pressure behind his eyes that also wasn't there.

Or was it....?

It didn't matter.

With a sigh, the exo let go of everything just to push himself off of the bed completely.

It was still dark outside, the only lightsource in the room being himself.

He let his eyes scan the area as much as it was possible while trying to remember where he had stored his clothings.

Still a habit he wasn't quite able to get rid of.

He was no human, and there was noone around him requesting to touch his bare arms – his body - anything anymore.

After a few seconds of spacing out, the hunter steeled himself against the feelings, that tried to well up, to break free, shaking his head a bit as if to clear his mind, before turning towards the only window in the room, where his table and a chair stood lonely, mostly dusted over and littered with clothes, armor and weapons, he had cleaned before laying down, to get dressed.

„Guardian.....?“

His ghost's small voice shouldn't have startled him the way it did, but yet, here he was, frozen in place, midway to closing one of the belts he normally wore.

„Guardian. You shouldn't be awake....“, the little light kept going, after materializing in front of the exo, his eye almost blindingly bright in the dark room.

„The hell I shouldn't......“, Scythe grumbled without looking up, not bothering to use all his facial features to express himself, before fixing the belt he nearly forgot he was supposed to secure around his hip.

The knives he usually carried were stowed after that. The hand cannon got holstered next, before he swung his cloak around his shoulders and pinned it in place just to pull the hood over his head afterwards.

Enough time to take a breather, before speaking to his ghost again who looked rather mortified with how his guardian talked to him.

The pang of guilt was immediate, as the hunter looked back up towards the traveler's child with his shell sagging low, single eye downcast.

„Sorry....“, the exo whispered towards his companion.

„It's alright. I know better than anyone else what you have been through.....“

Which didn't excuse Scythe's mood.

Of course his ghost knew. He had been there, all along the way. He had seen every step the exo had taken after being resurrected. He had led him to the city - a safe haven, had been there to teach the hunter everything he had to know about this new world, had guided him, lighted the way, empowered him with the traveler's light, brought him back from the dead countless times, shown him what a guardian was and should be......

It was unjust to snap at the only one he had left.

„Hey.....“, Scythe reached out, faceplates shifting to the exo equivalent of an apologetic smile, for his ghost to land on his palm and it took the ghost only a moment to realize the gesture, before settling down with a small static noise and enjoying a few moments of not having to hover around, before lifting itself back up, his single eye looking at his guardian questioning, illuminating the exo's faceplates once more in the process.

„So.... is it enough to ping Shaxx to queue you up for a Crucible match or..... do you have to leave?“, the Ghost asked, shell rotating as he moved forward, closer to his guardian, in order to study him.

Scythe let loose of a sigh.

When he had lost his partner..... no, that word was too small for him.... the hunter had thrown himself into the Crucible. It had started with an hour or two each day, the remaining Vanguard still giving him jobs, mostly scouting missions and a few strikes that they were sure he was able to manage on his own, since they hadn't been able to talk him into running with a fireteam.

And they had tried.....

Maybe it would have been easier to talk to the Hunter Vanguard in that kind of matter, the other exo probably knowing not to push so far...... but that wasn't possible anymore either....

But it hadn't been enough to drown the sorrow that stuck to him like feathers to tar. And at some point, the Vanguard had given up. Maybe because the exo had behaved like a pubertal teenager, frowning at them, fighting with them – against them – but only with words. He even had started a yellbattle against Zavala.

Of course he had lost that one, as a random titan who had waited behind him to talk to his commander had had enough and had tackled him, so that Scythe had nearly been pushed over the railing.

Titans and their loyalty.....

But still.....

The Crucible had been his only anchor after that. His time fighting his fellow guardians had been the only time where he had been focused enough to not think about everything that had happened.

One to two hours a day became three to four, then at least six. The Vanguardmissions stopped entirely at some point, getting more dangerous for one single guardian. It only had ended as Shaxx had sent him off, the exo's performance getting worse and worse due to the exhaustion that came with running around 24 + hours and shooting fellow guardians in the head, even while having a mechanical body that could endure way more than human flesh and bones, but it wasn't about the physical aspect really. More about the exhaustion of staying alert around the clock. Not that he had been bad even after so many hours. It probably was just the father instinct in Shaxx that had made him notice the changes.

If he had one. Maybe...who knew for sure...

So if Shaxx threw you out of the Crucible it was serious. And it meant that you weren't getting back before you didn't do what the handler wanted. And it hadn't been a request. It had been a command. A command to rest.

Well.... at least there was an attempt at rest....

Maybe Scythe should have protested. Maybe he should have...... well, changed into a different outfit and just continued under a false name?

But that would have been the epitome of behaving like a pubertal teenager. And the exo had noted before, that it was nothing he ever should be like. Nothing he ever wanted to be like.

Sure, he had changed.

Who wouldn't, after losing the one that meant more to you than your own life?

Than your light? The traveler?

Everything.....?

And then shortly after another friend?

The hunter contemplated his options, his green optics wandering around the small standard-issue hunter living quarter before settling back on his ghost.

„I just.... have to get away. Shoot something.....“, he answered after a while, before reaching out for the sniper rifle that leaned against the wall.

Hive, Cabal, Taken....... it didn't matter. Just something to shoot... to focus on.....so that he didn't have to think of all the things he tried so hard not to think of.

„So, where do you want to go?“

„You chose.....“, the exo answered, his expression shifting towards a melancholic smile, while securing the sniper rifle on his back. The gift he had gotten back in the day, when everything had been fine. When life had been fun. When he hadn't been alone.

When he still had been alive......

„I think......“, the ghost let go of some klicking noises, „Titan...... Titan should hold enough Hive to kill for you.“

It was funny that his ghost would let that one slide and take the initiative when presented the option to do so. Scythe didn't bother to point that out. It was just.... strange, that his ghost's persona had changed so much in such little time. So he simply nodded in agreement.

The only thing left to think about was how to get away from the tower without anyone noticing........

#yuu writing #well at least attempting to write #no beta we die like men #destiny 2 #destiny 2 oc #pretty much oc backstory snipplets #eh i tried #will probably not be noticed anyways #why am i spamming tags?#guess i just don't want to klick on post at this point #oh well here goes nothing

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