The warlock looked upwards, his hands resting in the railing illuminated by the pale moonlight. He let out a content sigh as a light breeze rolled over his face setting a calming vibe. His black hair swooshed back gently, as the current tugged it back. His gaze caught the shape of the celestial body floating out in orbit, hovering around the city. It's city anyway. It helped create this. His gaze adverted to the lights of the buildings,  some flicking on and others off. He let a smile spread across his thin lips. His cheeks upturned and his eyes seemed to have a new fire to them. He inhailed  deeply the cold air zapping the moisture momentarily out of his mouth. As the now warm air left his mouth the moisture returned as he raked his tongue over his lips. The happiness that radiated off him faltering. The illusion he had created for himself ripped apart and shattered. The corners of his mouth slowly turned downwards. He noticed them, the scoffs. The distaste for his kind. The Titans: trigger itchy tanks that use their brute strength to do whatever needs to be accomplished. No precaution to any knowledge or ruins there. Hunters seek out being lone wolves. They live for the perfect shot, the perfect take down. They don't have enough intelligence to understand the purpose. Warlocks though use their knowledge of power. They- he possesses secrets the Titans and Hunters couldn't wrap their minds around. Now he wouldn't call their lack intellectual capacity their fault, they just don't understand. When he first started as a guardian he thought of them as all equal. But then the jokes started, scoffs, glares. He didn't understand at first. Other guardians besides the warlocks would look down on him. Not take him seriously, not choose him to join a fire team. He soloed everything. Croata, Vault of Glass and so forth (I know it's not possible but here it shall be). Jack felt his anger rise and hadn't noticed how tight his fists where clenched. Even though his armor his knuckles protruded, making little mountains of his bone rise to the challenge. His ghost appeared by his side "hey- calm down". The veteran fighter looked at his only friend that had been beside him. The cold hard wall of hate slowly started to wane away into one of sadness and guilt. "I'm sorry old friend" the guardian spoke for the first time in a while. The ghost flashed briefly, surprised. "Glad to have you talking again. Are you alright?" Jack sighed "yes and no. It's the same old Seismic." Seismic turned itself in air. "How's the injury?". The warlocks eyebrows knit together "it's not much of a injury". He took the fabric of his armor on his sleeve and pulled it up. It crinkled in his wake exposing his soft, skin. Up his arm lay ancient engravings, a black fluid filling it's grooves. It seemed to slowly be spreading, pulsing, hurting. He winced as it turned more veins black up his arm. "You should get that-" "No!" He snapped. "If they find out that he did this then they will kill me. The taken King is upon us old friend. And if they don't want to listen, then it's their turn in to suffer". A/N so I know the bottom half is false. But this is merely for fun. So enjoy