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Edited by TehDildacorn: 6/1/2017 10:50:27 PM
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Fireteam Daybreak: False Hope - pt. 2

[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/197415283?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=1]Catalogue of Art and Fics related to Fireteam Daybreak[/url] [b]Characters[/b]: [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Community/Detail?itemId=191512614]Wylie[/url], [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Community/Detail?itemId=215455523]Rue[/url], Lazarus, Socrates [b]Word Count[/b]: 3,082 [i][url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/186131357/0/0]False Hope - pt. 1[/url][/i] --------------- Disruption of the energies within her aura’s range interrupted her train of thought with a rude jolt that shook her from her psychometric trance. The glow of her eyes faded as the blank pages of the book before her replaced the not so peaceful visions of the Ishtar Collective science team’s darker days. Rue stared for a moment, disoriented and hands trembling through a white-knuckle grip, but grounded herself by whispering the names of her friends with an air of fervency, growing more desperate each time she spoke. Laila, Merric, Dee, Wylynn… Her gaze scanned the room, pausing on books from the Archives and a few from Ikora’s personal library that lay open and scattered around the room on tables, chairs, some on the floor… physical copies of files from Clovis Bray’s Exoscience research set in a box next to her bookshelves, and the old, tattered book under her fingertips. Leather, dry and course- she noted the faint smell of must from the waterlogged parchment, the tired sunlight streaming in from the courtyard windows to her left, and the smell of blooming jasmine and lavender from the garden plot by the view. Ikora, Rahool, Arach, Hideo, Zavala, Nikel… Barom… But her eyes finally settled on the ancient oak at the center of the room, towering at an impressive four stories tall, and the dysphoria evaporated. If not for the help of the Warlock order, she may have never learned how to manage the dissociation that resulted from her out-of-body experiences. Their insight had been invaluable. The Tower… I’m in the Tower… Rue drew in a sharp breath and held it until the count of five, steadied herself as she exhaled evenly on the same count. It had been many lifetimes since her visions had begun, with hundreds of years behind her, and hundreds more witnessed as a spectator to the lives of strangers she’d never known. Everything she touched called to her from the Void, caressing her consciousness from the fabric of time with a longing to be remembered, stories to be told, good and bad. Memories she sympathized with so strongly, some days she found it impossible to differentiate between what were and weren’t hers. They were random, overwhelming, horrific, and becoming more and more real every time. So real that she had begun to fear that she would one day lose herself to them. Light flooded the room with a warm embrace as her ghost manifested from its spot on her shelf to shake the sleep from its appendages, and Rue breathed slow and steady as she removed her hands from the pages and shut the tome with a gentle palm. Her personal time was up for the moment; Wylie’s aura was unmistakable, especially when she was worked up. Rue frowned as the idea to pretend she was still too busy to talk raced through her mind. She wasn’t ready enough for the dump she was about to unload, but her civility nagged. Wylynn was her friend, after all. If she trusted her enough to come to her with what was on her mind, she deserved her courteous consideration of her feelings. “Are you alright?” the aubergine spined ghost asked as it orbited her shoulders sympathetically. “Would you like me to ask her to come back?” Rue looked down and shook her head, then lifted a hand. “No… I’ll be fine.” The door to her library flung open and rattled on its hinges with a hollow ring as it hit the wall. “GOD, the NERVE of some people…” Wylynn huffed as she entered the room, muttering curses under her breath. Rue’s eyes followed as the Warlock floated herself up to one of the half-dozen hammocks strung overhead, lit a lantern, and rolled into the rope with an annoyed growl; the tree gave a small creak at the drop of her body weight but held steady. “You should be more careful up there… we don’t want to disturb Fjörgynn,” she scolded as she collected the books and shifted around her notes. “Fjörgynn can bite me,” she hissed without turning to look at her, mumbling “Why did you even name a tree anyway…?” under her breath as an afterthought. This was typical behavior for her.. deflecting, waiting until someone asked what was wrong before she came out with the truth. Most would have interpreted it as a childish cry for attention, but Rue knew better; she understood the need to preserve her pride, to want help but not want to look weak by asking for it. For being so fierce, Wylynn’s ego was awfully fragile. Rue sighed, set the items in her arms into a box and looked up at the back of her jeweled, black robes. She could feel the tremors of her body in the air as Icarus hovered, hoping to soothe her with his presence. “What happened?” she asked, hesitation in her tone. “Cayde. Cayde happened.” Rue’s Void flared around her, thick and permeating, and she immediately understood; that phrase was universal Warlock code for “Can you believe this asshole?” She had her own reasons to dislike Cayde, but wouldn’t usually allow her own opinion to taint another’s view if they held him in high regard (as Laila and Merric did); in this instance, she didn’t bridle her tongue. “And you’re surprised?” The words came out sarcastic, dripping. Wylynn’s brows popped up and she half-turned to glance at her out of the corner of her eye. She was surprised, but not by Cayde’s behavior. “I just didn’t know he could be so unsympathetic.” “What do you mean?” “Well… I overheard him talking to Laila about something… Shadowsmith encryption she and Merric pulled out a terminal at King’s Watch…” “Okay…?” “… he said it was outdated, that it hadn’t been used since the Gap…” “Did he say who dropped the data?” Wylynn shrugged as she played with the sleeve of her robes. “Some anonymous tipster calling themselves Spectre…” Rue froze and her jaw locked tight- she shouldn’t have known, but she was aware that Cayde had been receiving intel from an anonymous source… and she knew who it it was. Spectre had been doing work for her too, tracking supercell movement on Venus and collecting data on Vex technology. It was by pure luck that they had met in the Reef, but Nik had asked her to keep his secret in exchange for any help he could provide outside of his obligations to the Queen. And although she hated keeping it a secret from Wylie, she understood his reasons and agreed to his terms… but with how close she was to the truth, she wondered if Wylie would find out on her own. Nik would either need to be more careful or more brazen. She swallowed before responding, “So you assumed it had to be Nikel.” “It was the only explanation.” Rue nodded quietly as she continued. “So I called him on it… we got into it…” Her hands fussed nervously with the plating over her wrists, not wanting to recall what came next, but she could feel Rue growing anxious as she traced a slow circle around the trunk of the tree. She sighed. “… and he said that even if Nik was still alive, there’s no way of knowing if he’s still on our side… that he hadn’t returned to the tower for a reason…” Rue’s throat clenched and her stomach twisted over itself, knot after knot from her chest to her belly. He was right… as much as she hated to think about it, and as much as she hated to admit that she would agree with Cayde about anything, when it came down to it he wasn’t stupid, she couldn’t deny that. He was a Hunter, and hunters were survivors- cautious, distrustful, intel-driven, always anticipating and preparing for what could go wrong. His scouts were the first line of defense against the darkness. Cayde might not have known it, but his instincts were on-point. After a moment of silence and a disgusted groan, she forced out a painful admission. “He’s got a point…” It was Wylynn’s turn to bristle, eyes wide and lip curling. “What!? You can’t be serious!” “But I am, Wylynn, I know he’s your brother, and I know it hurts to even consider that a possibility because you know him and you love him, but if this had been any other guardian you would have thought the same.” “But Cayde knows him too-” “Cayde’s the Vanguard now,” she cut in, raised her voice with an exasperated tone. “He’s been thrown into a position where he’s forced to constantly think objectively about the bigger picture. He has to put the safety of the city above every other guardian, himself included, because we’re all pawns in the grand scheme of this war. He doesn’t have the luxury of giving the benefit of the doubt to friends exhibiting questionable behavior.” The room went quiet, only a soft flutter in the air as Socrates passed, circled the room to organize the mess she’d made in the last few days. Rue’s hand brushed against the trunk of the tree and traced the imperfections in the bark, looked at the way it had split, healed, and twisted to adapt. It had fought to survive just as much as any of them. ([i]cont. in next post[/i])

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  • Edited by TehDildacorn: 3/18/2016 2:13:08 AM
    “Look…” she paused with a sigh and crossed her arms, turned and leaned back against the Oak, and tilted her head up to look at her. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t see her, the walls vaulted her voice in circular echoes spiraling toward the canopy. “If Nik were here right now he’d listen; but he isn’t, and eight years is a long time to be away from home without so much as a hello, or a message to tell us he’s alive, so he has to assume the worst.” “So why then…? Why hasn’t he come back?” Her question was silent, nearly a whisper. Rue pushed back the sickness that pounded in her stomach as she fabricated the possibilities. “If he survived, it’s probable he suffered severe trauma and doesn’t remember the tower… or it could be he’s fighting his own wars and doesn’t want to get the city involved… but it’s entirely possible he just doesn’t want to come home.” Wylynn paused to shift uncomfortably; the thought that he would abandon her of his own accord made her truly sick. “I think I prefer the betrayal theory…” At least that had potential for closure. Rue reached up to grasp one of the low-hanging branches and launched herself upward, glided to the hammock across from her, then sat down and leaned over in her direction to look her in the eye. The last thing Rue wanted was to see her continue to hurt, because she had already been hemorrhaging hope since he had gone missing; but she’d made a promise. “I know you don’t want to believe it any more than I do…” she started with a soft tone that turned sharp, compelling. “So don’t. Just because the idea’s out there doesn’t mean you have to accept it as truth.” The discomfort in her eyes faded into profound gratitude, awe, then sadness, then concern. The words had come out as if she’d recited them a thousand times before, as if she wished desperately that someone had said them to her sooner. “Your strongest assets are your integrity and your unwavering faith. So use them to your advantage and decide what you want to be true, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Cayde’s opinion doesn’t really matter anyway… neither does Ikora’s, or Zavala’s, or anyone else’s. If you believe he’s out there, then believe it and don’t take their skepticism personally.” She nodded but remained quiet as the new guilt ached in the pit of her gut. Eyes watched her with a newfound respect as she lay down into the rope weave and stared up at the ceiling with what Wylynn had now realized was feigned serenity; she realized just how much Rue had suffered in silence as she gave everything to care for the people around her, and it made her feel weak. “Rue…” Wylynn’s gaze was sullen, downcast, before it moved to look her way after hesitating. “Is that how you deal with it…?” Rue’s eyelids faltered, just a bit, but they screamed her answer. “Yes… and no,” she started, eyes shifting away from her as her head turned to follow. “I miss Barom every day…” Fingers curled up around her elbows and shifted up her arms to her shoulders as her eyes fell shut. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to bring him back, but I can’t trust what my heart is telling me and I know it.” Wylynn frowned, sadness washing over her. “Why not…? Don’t you think he’s alive…? Aren’t you trying to find him?” “Yes, I do… and I am… but right now he’s not here, and I have no way of proving he’s alive, to myself or to anyone else,” she answered, respectively. “So to me, hope is irrelevant; until I find evidence to support what I feel, it’s just unnecessary pain.” Her brow hardened, trying to understand how she could possibly choose to believe the things that were coming out of her mouth. “But, doesn’t that upset you?” Rue didn’t answer right away; after everything she’d just done to help build her up, she knew her truth would only hurt. “No,” she replied evenly, “And I’ll tell you why.” She could see her choking back words and tears as she waited for her to continue. “I do believe he’s alive, and I am working on finding him…” Rue rolled over and leveled her gaze with her. “But it’s simple- either he’ll come back, or he won’t. If I see him again, I’ll be over the moon, but if I don’t, I don’t want to have been so destroyed by grief that I was never able to move on. It’s not what he would have wanted… and it’s not what Nikel would have wanted either.” Her words had cut deep to the heart, but despite all of the fighting she had done against the truth, for fear of betraying him, Wylynn finally understood. Her head rolled back into the hammock and reached out to grasp her little yellow ghost with a gentle hand, what was left of her security in this second life of hers, and it sunk down onto her chest heavily in mutual want. “They both fought too hard for us to give up simply because they’re gone- they wouldn’t want us to turn against our comrades for moving on without them, and they would certainly not want us to wallow in self pity, they’d want us to be happy.” “Yeah…” The silence that followed was comforting, calm, easy to be content to just lay there and be. As radically different as Rue’s coping methods were from hers, Wylynn admitted to herself that she could have been handling her anguish better than she had been. Half an hour passed, during which time they had almost fallen asleep. Rue stirred as she sensed footsteps down the hall, turned over and blinked down at Lazarus as he knocked on the door. “Wylie? You in here?” he asked as he listened intently for any sort of movement in the room. “Laila says you’ve been gettin’ into trouble again, so I wanted to make sure you were alright.” Rue motioned for her to “go ahead” as Wylie sat up in her hammock and pushed herself over the edge with a drop that startled him, and softened her landing with a short glide and an enamored grin. Laz was surprised at her demeanor, he’d expected worse after the story he’d been told, but the vibration of her light was different from its usual mania laced with cyanide- it was eager, clear and strong, without the false airs she hid behind when she was walking an emotional tightrope. This was the Wylie he loved to be around, and he was relieved. Hands moved to her hips as her fingertips traced the backs of his hands, up his arms, to his shoulders and cheek, and she cupped it fervently with a warm palm, eyes tracing the angles of his face as he pulled her close. “Seems to me you’re doin’ just fine though.” “Better, yeah,” she admitted absently with a smirk and a gentle kiss on the cheek, whispered into his ear, “but thanks for checkin’ up on me, Sunspots… you’re a real doll.” Laz chuckled, turned his cheek into hers and wrapped both arms around her, one higher than the other. “Did you really just call me “doll”…?” The sunsinger rolled her eyes and gave a half-hearted huff as she grinned and pulled away from him. “Give me a minute and we’ll get out of here…” she promised, dragging her claw-like nails across his scarred palms as she moved back to Rue, who had joined her on the ground. For a moment she turned her attention back to the tree, pressed a hand to the trunk in solemn silence. “I didn’t mean it, you know…” “I’m sure Fjörgynn already knows.” A quiet, thankful smile beamed back at her, then back to the trunk. “We’ll be here anytime you need someone.” “Thanks Rue,” she whispered as she started to turn back to Laz, but stopped and turned at the threshold. “When do you think you’ll be ready to start coming with us again?” She looked down, took a step back and shook her head, uncertainty ringing clear. “I don’t know…” “Well… when you are, I’ll be glad to have you along.” Rue’s face contorted, struck by a sharp pang of fear mixed with gratitude, but by the time she could look up to thank her, Wylynn was gone. Her Void rang hollow, lonely, even with Socrates and Fjörgynn beside her, the room was suddenly too devoid of life. With a nervous twitch, she turned on heel and strode to a shelf on the wall, pulled down a large tome on the Ahamkara and traced the fossil woven into the cover with her fingertips. Her eyes began to blur, dark spots in the corner of her vision that grew and expanded until shapes of light took form, and she watched them fly, free and majestic, before they had been hunted to extinction by her kind. She would never be alone, not when surrounded by so many memories.

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