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Destiny

Discuss all things Destiny.
Edited by GhostWriter: 9/29/2016 8:06:21 PM
23

RIP the Dream, pt 2

This is Part 2. Check out the other parts here: [url]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/214044178[/url] <Begin Recording> [i]Audio Log 00069[/i] [i]Vera-2[/i] You know you don’t have to say my name and the audio log number every damn time, right, Ghost? Nobody is going to go back and listen to these. Oh, you disagree? Fine, fine. Whatever, little dude. I’ll get back to the story. So Fireteam… you know what? Dung Beetle is a really stupid name. I’m just going to say Scarab. Shut up, Solm, I’m recording! Go somewhere else! <sound of a heavy object smacking the wall, distant laughter> Okay, I’m back. So anyway, Fireteam Scarab left Ikora’s office, save Cassandra, who had some Warlock questions. Solm and I knew it was better to [i]not[/i] hang around for whatever pseudo-scientific philosophy nonsense would follow. Solm wanted to go meet Commander Zavala and Lord Shaxx, but I just wanted to sleep. I let Solm do their thing and I headed over to the temporary living quarters for new Guardians. I almost made it there, too, but a voice called out from a potted plant. “Psst, Guardian.” I spun and stared at the plant. “I didn’t know bushes could talk here. Ghost, what’s your assessment?” The Ghost sighed. “That’s…” “Cayde-6!” the voice said, a little too loud. A passing Guardian stopped and stared briefly before chuckling and moving along. “Who?” I said, smiling. I knew exactly who Cayde-6 was. “Oh come on…” he said. “I’m Cayde-6! Legendary Hunter, most powerful Bladedancer, charming and handsome rogue!” He stepped out from behind the plant and decloaked. “I don’t think you’re supposed to use cloaking in the Tower, old man,” I jabbed at him. “Wha--- you--- old man? Old man?!” He sounded offended. “Guardian, I could have you scrubbing floors for the sweeperbot for years if I wanted.” “But you won’t, right?” I said. “Because you called to me specifically.” He paused. I could tell he was impressed. “Yes,” he said softly, in a more serious tone. “Follow me.” And with that he turned, swishing his cape, and marched in the opposite direction of my bed. I rolled my eyes and followed. Cayde led me up through a maze of staircases. “You know we have elevators for a reason, right?” I called to him. He laughed. “You’re made of metal, Vera, you don’t feel exhaustion. Nice try.” “I do too,” I muttered. I just wanted to relax. Eventually we came across a life-size poster of the Speaker. Someone had stuck googly-eyes onto the Speaker’s mask. It was in a random hallway in the middle of the Tower, dimly lit and with nobody near. “Is this your secret base?” I asked, wheezing. Cayde turned to me. “Okay, I get it,” he said curtly. “You want to rest. You’ve just been reborn and all you’ve done is fight. And now you’re being sent off on a vague mission with unclear parameters by a Warlock who looks like she’d just as soon shoot you as look at you. I understand. But don’t take it for granted, Vera-2.” He turned away. “I did.” I didn’t know what to say, so I looked awkwardly at the floor. I didn’t expect that kind of response. “You really miss it, don’t you?” “Of course I do,” he said bitterly. “But we’re not here to talk about my feelings, are we?” I laughed. “If you want to, I’m all ears.” Cayde smirked as well as someone with no lips could. “You don’t have ears, either.” He ran his hand along the wall until a section just below the Speaker’s elbow clicked inwards. “To answer your question,” he said as the wall behind the poster swung outwards, “yes. This [i]is[/i] my secret base.” He stepped inside. I followed. We walked through a short passageway surrounded by piping and electrical cords until we arrived in a small and dimly lit room. There was a desk in the middle surrounded by books and a few engrams. The walls were covered in shelves of mementos and oddities. I reached for a crimson hand cannon with a stylized heart emblazoned on the side. Without turning, Cayde slapped my hand away. “No touching. The Ace of Hearts is special.” I shrugged and sat in one of the beaten up armchairs he had in his little hideaway. I realized that Cayde was actually pretty tall for a Hunter. His cape hung comfortably about his broad shoulders and his hood was pulled up over his head, resting on his forehead spike. He was definitely handsome. For an exo. “Now I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “‘Why am I here, Cayde?’ ‘What do you want with me?’” he gestured with his hands while he paced. “I was actually thinking that you weren’t kidding about the handsome part,” I said, grinning. He stopped pacing and stared at me before shaking his head, laughing. “I knew I was right to pick you,” he said, shaking his finger in my direction. “You aren’t half-bad.” He leaned against his desk. “Okay, Guardian. Ikora has you going on this hushity-hush mission to Venus for some Golden Age intel. She didn’t specify what she was looking for, right?” “Nope,” I said. “Yeahhh didn’t think so. Fortunately for you, Vera, you have the most powerful Vanguard on your side,” he boasted, a thumb pointed towards his chest. “Me,” he said, adding quietly, “if you didn’t get that. But you got it.” He shook his head, I think at himself. “So! I have a special mission for you. I won’t give you any of that vague Warlock bull that Ikora dishes out. There’s a gun. Well, at least there’s a [i]legend[/i] of a gun,” he said waving his hands. “Built by Davenpool scholars around the time of the collapse. I need you to find it and bring it back to me.” “Any idea what it looks like?” I asked. “Oh, uh, yes,” he said shiftily. “It’s supposed to look awesome. Like, really awesome. You’ll know it when you see it.” I decided that it wasn’t worth pressing the issue. “Okay,” I said. “And what’s in it for me?” “No sweeperbot duties? Pinkie promise?” I folded my arms. He narrowed his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “I have what some people would call an 'illegal' amount of Strange Coins," he said with air quotes around 'illegal.' "I can’t be caught talking to that Xur fella, so you can have some if you come back. When! When you come back,” he said, laughing. “You’ll come back. Definitely.” I laughed. “You got yourself a deal.” “Fantastic! Now get out of my lair.” “On one condition,” I continued. Cayde stared at me, surprised. “I get to take that sick-ass hand cannon,” I said, pointing to the Ace of Hearts. “But---” “I’m not technically working for you,” I interrupted. “And I wonder what Ikora would think about this whole ‘secretly usurping her mission in favor of your own’ thing you have going here.” Cayde smiled. “You know how to get things done, Guardian. I respect that. Sure, take the old Ace of Hearts. It’s not like I’m using it for anything,” he added dramatically. I smiled back at him. “Got a few more of those things lying around anyway,” he muttered. “Thanks,” I said, standing. “Don’t forget to write, old man.” “Stop calling me that.” “No.” <End Recording>

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