#( uldren ; visage )

[unlucky-corvid]

Home

A little self indulgent piece of my OC phantom and cayde.

Angst with eventual fluff.

This has not been proof read

Enjoy xoxo

Home.

He's home.

Sprawled out on the sofa of my...our flat, snoring softly. One leg over the back of the sofa, head tilted back, resting on his hands like he never left.

His Cloak slung over the coat hook it used to call home until 5 years ago, boots beneth it, still caked in mud and on the coffee table, his holster and ace...ace 2? I glance back to my bedside dresser, caydes ace of spades resting there, the tool of retribution that carried swift justice to uldren sov. My gaze returns back to the other wespon, cracked with an un-earthly glow sitting on the coffee table.

Why can't I be happy about this,Like every one else?

Why can't I welcome him back into my...our bed like I used to, curling up into his side, listening to his inner mechanisms softly working as we simply bask in one another's presence?

I should be elated. I am. Its like every wish I ever asked for rolled together in one. An impossible ask made real, laying on my sofa...our sofa. Back where he belongs. He's safe.

But what about me?

Selfish thought I know but,What about the tears I cried every day for 5 years? The nightmares? The hallucinations? The sleep terrors? The anxiety attacks?

What about my pain!?

I grieved. I grieved for him. The life we could have had. The death of seemingly everything I held dear and now I'm supposed to just...forget that? Forget how much i suffered while everyone else managed to move on.

Envy it an ugly emotion but I feel it nontheless strongly as I do my grief.

Does he even know?

I'm sure he must have some idea. I'm sure zavala and ikora filled him in. I'm sure sundance and midnight spoke.

Spoke about the night I screamed so raw my throat bled. The night zavala found me curled up behind the bust of cayde in the tower, wrapped in his cloak as the snow settled around me, slowly burrying me as i stared off into nothingness. The missions I returned from, battered and bloody only to pick up the next bounty and leave. No food. No rest. No time to remember.

Maybe thats why his eyes followed me with that uneasy concern when I bid him good night. The look of understanding that sent an uneasy shiver down me when I asked him if we could sleep separately for a while as I got used to my dead partner being alive and well back in my...our apartment.

A shiver of frosty air shoots up my spine and sets my teeth on edge.

He's here again.

Not the real cayde.

But the cayde thats been with me since he died.

The cayde that lingers in the shadows, that stalks me in the light of day, that lingers over my shoulder. A waking nightmare.

He first started to apear a few days after caydes death. Only at night. He would hover beside my bedside, bending down beside my ear to whisper.

"I was waiting for you. Waiting for you to run in and put a bullet between that bastards eyes. But you didn't. You were too late. Too late. TOO LATE!"

"Youre sick. Sick in the head. You welcomed my killer into our home with open arms. Crow? Crow?! That's what the sick fucks calling himself now? Are you that desperate to betray me? That desperate to desicrate MY HOME with that murders precence?!"

Then it would vanish as the dawn arrived leaving me sleepless and guilt ridden.

Until it didn't.

Until guardians would give my looks of sympathy and fear when a smokey apparition of the ex hunter vanguard would be glanced over my shoulder. Lips uttering words only I could hear.

I tried everything. Pills, alcohol, therapy, eris's hive magic, maras paracausal influence but nothing stopped the ghastly characature of my dead lovers visage from taunting me.

Ikora began to avoid me. I dont blame her. Being forced to see her fallen friend every instance we spoke must have been hard but...at least she could escape it.

Zavala simply gives me this look. The kind of look you give an animal you know needs putting out of its Misery as it lays dying at the side of the road. The type of look you give sickly dying people when you know they're on their last legs. I know he means well.

But I avoid him to now. I am not dying nor sickly...not outwardly and I don't wish to be treated as such.

With a sigh I turn, heading back into my...our room.

I'll get it right eventually.

I shrug off my clothes leaving them heaped on the floor, tugging on one of caydes hoodie that no longer smells like him before sliding into bed.

"Broken" it hisses.

"You think that's what i want. You think after these years, after what you've become, I'll want you?"

"Deluded"

"Shut up" I whisper holding my hands over my ears but it does nothing to silence the vile vitriol that slips from its mouth.

"Broken little phantom. How many time did you think of crushing midnight and ending it all huh? Monster. Selfish monster even considering that. I deserve better."

I curl into a ball as if caydes hoodie and the blankets will save me from the ghastly manifestations of my biggest failure. But it dosent.

My heart rate begins picking up as further hateful bile is spews from the lips of the creature using my lovers face to torment me. My fingers tremble against my face as my body convulses with each sob that wracks my frame.

"Worthless, selfish, untrustworthy, lying, unfait-"

"Hey"

The voice seemingly interupts itself

A hand on my shoulder jolts me to the present as i turn expecting the face of a nightmare...

2 icey blue optics stare into my own eyes from the darkness. Not the misty red smoke I expected.

"Zavala...zavala told me about...well...me" he says softly. The feeling of his hand on my shoulder, thumb rubbing gentle circles feels...Alien but...also like home.

Cayde glances at the misty apparition of himself with a hard glare. His eyes soften as he looks back to you "this guys a real buzzkill huh?" He says softly in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. He readjusts himself on my...our bed. Placing himself between me and the nightmare.

"Just ignore...him? Me? No not me. Ignore it" he murmurs as he slips under the covers. I cant help my body tense as he moves up beside me. As if sensing my unease he also freezes.

"I can leave, if you want. Go back to the sofa" his voice softly speaks as if I'm a cornered animal, soothing. Safe.

I pause. No. No thats the last thing I want now. I spent 5 years apart from him, I don't want to spend a single moment away from his side.

"No please stay" I mumble, voice horse from the tears that a familiar hand was wiping away. My hand finds the material of his tshirt and I move myself trying to get iven closer despite us already being flush together.

"Always"

His body fits against mine like a puzzle piece, arms snaking round my waist, anchoring me to him. "It wasn't your fault doll. I promise"

My body gradually untenses for what feels like the first time in 5 years as I sink back into he familiar embrace of caydes body. My body trembles with the adrenaline finally leaving my system.

His chest still rises and falls, his exo body's mimic of a heart beat still reaches my ears. Home. For the first time in 5 years, We are both home.

A blue light on my bedside catches my eye. A ghosts eye, 2 of them, watch us. Midnight and sundance. The pillow I keep on the bedside cabinet once for both midnight and sundance may seem unnecessary to some but our ghosts deserve a little love to. Midnight had always looked swammed by the pillow after sundance was blown to shards but now, seeing them both huddled up to one another as they to settle down, it feels like everything is finnaly settling into place.

Cayde-6 the once dead hunter vanguard, friend and lover was finally back where he rightfully belonged.

Home.

Our home.

[savathuns-pyramidscheme]

“You really don’t see anyone?”

“No.”

“Not even…”, Crow pauses, eyes flicking to Peregrine’s cloak, and then to the ground.

“Cayde?”, the phantom of Uldren offers unhelpfully.

“Not even Cayde”, Perry responds to Crow alone.

“Why? I mean… don’t get me wrong here, I wouldn’t wish this”, he jabs his thumb in Uldren’s direction, “ on anybody, but what’s keeping them off you?”

“Rude”

“I don’t…,” Peregrine considers the lie she nearly told, to him and to herself, “ His cloak, I guess. It weighs on me like an anchor...keeps me warm like a flame. If I’m wearing it, then he isn’t, which means he’s dead. I can’t lie to myself with it as a fact, and the phantoms are nothing but lies. His death isn’t my only failure, but…”

“Like your failure to find me? Failure to even look, despite what Mara so kindly showed you? If no one else is up to task, Peregrine, I’m content to oblige. Can’t have you forgetting what your negligence put our little bird through, hmm?”

“Would you stop?! Perry, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I think, I…!”

“Huh.”

The trio stops as Peregrine finally turns to acknowledge the crimson-hued apparition. Crow looks between them, frantic. Guilt-ridden.

“I didn’t know he even knew my name.” Her voice rings with genuine surprise, her face betraying a mild curiosity. She humors his sneering visage for a moment longer, before returning her gaze to Crow with a hearty shrug.

“He…”, despite not having been asked to, Crow reflexively searches the other man’s memories, “he didn’t. It would have been on crow reports from when you were looking for the Black Garden, when he had you tailed, but it never stuck. He didn’t care. He had no idea what your name was.”

That tiny truth causes Crow’s shoulders to relax by a fraction, a small breath of relief escapes. Perry nudges him with her elbow and flashes him a smile as they resume their patrol, cataloguing this and that horror or monstrosity for Eris’s studies.

The tiny truth keeps their unwelcome companion quiet in a huffy hush for the remainder of the excursion. Oh, he’s not done, he’ll have his say, but at present his dearly detested duo are beyond listening.

[pawnshopsouls]

//Ok so I’ve been looking into the Forsaken campaign and studying Uldren Sov and the Scorn’s prison break, and it’s got me thinking: what would Dark Ether do to him? What kind of changes would it cause? What kind of crazy might it breed in a young light like him?

//and it got me thinking: it’d make him angry. It’d feed his anger at being used and manipulated and imprisoned. It’d instill that will to struggle, to claim his existence, that ever so slight start of sword logic in his mind.

//in his fever dreams caused by dark ether, he’d likely come face to face with a visage of darkness and it would ask what he wants. He’d say he wants his freedom, and it would reply simply, “then take it.” And he’d awaken with the gift of Stasis and the beginnings of light corruption in his heart.

//this uh, this is a developing idea but its looking really really cool

[thefirstknife]

so i've been going through your Cayde tag today and i agree heavily with a lot of the points you make, especially regarding him coming back or how a lot of fans tend to treat the concept.

that said, i'd love to hear your take on the idea of Cayde "returning," but only as nothing more than a visage or a tool used by the Darkness - not the real him, but a phantom of sorts, even briefly. i for one was 100% convinced we'd be getting a Nightmare of Cayde-6 in Shadowkeep (particularly in the final mission inside the Pyramid). still surprised the Darkness hasn't used him against us yet tbh.

Oh yeah, that would be incredibly delightful and painful. It is kinda weird he did not appear as a phantom or nightmare, tho I was pleased to hear Savathun tease us by mentioning him in one of her speeches to us. Since ultimately she's the one responsible for that while thing, in a way. There's also a shout-out to this in Presage where we can hear his voice which is basically Darkness channelling the dead directly to our heads.

Darkness would for sure use the memory of Cayde and our subsequent rampage on the Shore and Uldren against us, I think. It's something that fits under Darkness's way of thinking. Revenge, violence, showing our power over the weak(er).

Bungie probably didn't want to put players through that though. Too soon maybe for Shadowkeep. A lot of people were and still are sad and upset over what happened to Cayde so maybe teasing us would've been a bit too cruel, although it would make sense in-universe.

[a-driftamongopenstars]

worth fighting for; guardian x crow

anyway, i finished the new quest and i am emotional and this is all really fucked up and scary D: so i'm writing some comfort fic to comfort myself :D

wow bungie you really dropped this one on us, did you

also on ao3

As the Guardian returns to their home, dripping Taken essence from the edges of their attire, and dust of dried tears gathering in the corners of their eyes, they find the privacy of their home most welcoming.

Everything is as it should be. The morning coffee cup, still on the counter. A few pillows on the couch and one left resting on the floor. Two takeaway boxes from yesterday's dinner.

And Crow, standing by the window and overlooking the sleeping City in its endless night.

The Guardian sighs and rubs their eyes. They are tired. So tired of fighting this fight, one that demands they go on and never stop. In a life filled with grievance and terror, they can't help but be thankful for this place of respite.

Crow turns, and they look up. His bright eyes meet theirs, and the Guardian can't help but rush forward and grab Crow in their arms.

The solid memory of Uldren's body flashes through their sensory mind, the visage of his eyes filled with blackness of the Taken essence, the terrified screams...

"Stay with me, Guardian," Crow whispers, knocking them back into this, no less grim, reality, but one where there is Crow, where his voice of kindness can heal even that deep wound.

They hug Crow, tightly, holding in the tight circle of their arms.

It is a most terrifying thought how easily Savathun has slithered her way into the City, into the Vex network. The Guardian cannot let this happen to Crow, but the possibility still haunts them. They may be near-immortal and all-powerful, but fate knows how to take its own.

"Guardian..." Crow whispers, his fingers drawing against the Guardian's arm. "Air..."

They apologize and relax their hold. But they do not let go. Instead, they pepper kisses on Crow's hair, mess it up with their lips and nose. Run their fingers through it and move those hardened kisses to Crow's face, to his cheeks and lips. The taste of his mouth is intoxicating, and the warmth of his body is better than sunlight.

Crow is pliant, feeling the Guardian's need for him, need for comfort, familiarity. For love.

"It's going to be alright," he promises against their mouth, lips pressed and moving, salted with desperately tired tears.

The Guardian hushes him with another kiss, deeper, sweeter. They calm and let go of pain that held their heart ever since the venture into the Vex network.

If there is one reason worth keeping on and fighting for, it is now in their arms.

[skeleton-shindig]

Until the Sun

Moth has really inspired me to create a lot of art and this includes writing, which normally isn’t anywhere near my cup of tea. Moth is most certainly an idiot most times but he isn’t exempt from the hardships that most definitely come with being a guardian. So, I wrote something that’s been in my head for a while now. I hope you enjoy! It’s better read with thunderstorm and rain in the background.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVKEM4K8J8A

This is Moth’s favorite time to be at his hideaway in the EDZ, when the clouds become too heavy to bear their weight and brings with it the symphony of thunder. He lays here now in the makeshift bed he’s crafted from an old frame, tucked inside the space out of reach of the rain, and watches as it pours in sheets at the edge of the broken foundation. Although nature tempts him with it’s soothing lullaby, he does not sleep. Whether by choice, or not, he isn’t sure. The gentle tug of insomnia on his eyelids fits nicely with the desire to enjoy this peace while it lasts. Come morning the world around him could no longer be recognizable, so he memorizes it now in this false silence.

Inhaling the humid air, Moth is drawn to gaze at the sleeping figure of Crow nestled up against his side, having succumbed to the realm of dreams. How he wishes to join him there, to roll over and form a barrier between Crow and the world, but the thought of waking him suffers too much like a sin. Comforted by the deep even breathing beside him, Moth returns his lidded gaze up to the ceiling, interlocked fingers drumming an imaginary beat on his chest, eyes darting immediately to the face like imprint he discovered in the paint chipped concrete not long ago. The rain picks up, harder and harder as it drenches the earth in waves and from it, Moth is lulled to close his eyes - to listen for the impending thunder as lightning blinds the sky.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Thunder rattles the landscape and deafens the unoccupied space, echoing along its vast expanse. 

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

A whisper.

A mumble? Crow doesn’t often talk in his sleep but it’s enough to convince Moth to abandon his attempt at slumber once more. Yet, checking on the sleeping form dredges up such a rapid flux of panic that Moth can feel his heart sink and catch in his throat all in the same nauseating motion. A face so familiar yet unrecognizable pierces his soul with its glare, a phantom visage shrouded in tainted shadow and the deep hues of anguish and yet Moth can’t bring himself to look away. Although he does not feel the bone rattling chill of stasis on his skin, he cannot move all the the same, frozen helplessly in place as the ghastly yet vague figure of Uldren Sov reaches out for him with a tenderness unbefitting of the past prince. A ghost of a touch upon his cheek causes his vision to blur. It feels like nothing against his skin, but brings searing pain to every nerve beneath it nonetheless. A mouth unmoving whispers his sins like it’s reading straight from the source and Moth can’t decide whether to find solace in the eyes brimming with hatred or the void like hole with skin torn asunder on the man’s forehead - a wound of his own creation. Words unknown to both of them line the edges of Moth’s lips, through it seems not even here he can know the sound of his own voice. His heart screams the sorrow his throat will not let him, though it falls on the deaf ears of nightmares. 

The orchestrator of Moth’s petrified state, the visage of Uldren Sov coos a symphony of venom dipped atrocities as he trails ethereal fingers along Moth’s cheekbone, over the sharp curve of his nose and up, between his brows to rest, fingertips to his forehead. Agony blooms in its place and spreads out over his face, piercing beneath the layers of flesh and muscle to cast its roots into his skull. The heat of a 1000 suns crawls its way up Moth’s throat, seemingly plugged there by his heart so firmly lodged in place and Uldren, with emotion bleeding from his eyes, pushes against Moth’s forehead. Where he should meeting resistance, none is to be found. Eager fingers pierce the flesh, digging as if trying to renovate the space in his own image. Digging, so that he may add another link to the chain that binds them.

Moth should scream. IS screaming. . . but finds himself trapped in the type of silence he so greatly despises. The burning in his throat sears like its seeping through the flesh of his neck, pouring out in its refusal to be contained.

Moth bolts upright, eyes snapping open to the familiar darkness, his jaw nearly unhinged as the shattered scream he sings quickly devolves into a gurgle when the taste of iron coats his tongue. Feeling the scorching bile churn in his gut, Moth flings himself fully off the side of the bed, struggling with sluggish limbs to the pull the weight of his body toward the crumpled edge of the building while his legs kick at the cocoon he managed to weave out of the bedsheet. In dire disregard for anything besides expelling the red tinged contents of his stomach over the side of the structure, Moth pays no heed to the crunch underneath his frantic limbs or the blackness incomparable with the night that seeps in at the edges of his vision. His hunched form is wracked with violent shudders that are not born from the cold rain now soaking his head and shoulders. When he collapses back from the barrier of rain, he begins the harsh heave of refilling empty lungs. Only when he goes to wipe his mouth does he notice the scrape of something foreign against his skin and the familiar bone-deep chill that jars his frame.

“Moth?”

Forgetting that he wasn’t alone here, Moth is drawn from one horrid realization to another as he shifts his crumpled position on the floor, turning his wide-eyed gaze along the sea of ice leading up to his bed where it wholly consumes the piece of furniture. The floor, wall, and ceiling that surrounds the bed-frame now glitters with a radiant brilliance as lightning illuminates his transgressions. Despite the previous events, Moth’s mouth has never felt so dry as he stares unseeing a the destruction of his own unconscious making.

“Moth?”

The terror masked as concern draws Moth’s partially unfocused gaze up, and the sight that greets him nearly has him doubling back to the crumbling concrete edge. Standing so flush against the furthest wall that he could almost be mistaken as a part of it stands Crow, disheveled with wide shock filled eyes and his legs partially frozen to the floor. it takes Moth’s mind far too long to catch up with what he’s seeing and when it finally registers, his heart shatters in his chest - and he finds himself jealous of it, wishing that he too could crumble into a thousand useless pieces and melt between the floorboards. Moth wants so badly to go to Crow - to be the barrier for him against the world, but recognition of the lethal cage he would create corrodes a space in his chest where his heart used to be. . . and the look in Crow’s eyes sows the seed to thoughts Moth already chants.

With fingers still stiff from frigid ice, Moth manages to close his hand into a fist as he bring it to his chest and signs his apology until the sun crests the horizon. 

[caydesgirl-uldrensprincess]

Thanks to this wonderful idea from a tumblr user, here is more about my Hunter

Guardians name: Chloe Faith Brask

Age: 24

Race: Human

Pronouns: She/Her

Class: Hunter

Preferred subclass(es): Gunslinger

Ghost's name: Moondance

Fireteam name: The Sisterhood

Fireteam teammates: Isabelle Brigham, Tori-3, and Sage Heathcliff

Favorite legendary weapon: Rose

Favorite exotic weapon: Ace of Spades

Favorite exotic armor: Lucky Pants

Favorite ornament armor set: Vanguard Dare

Favorite weapon ornament: Big Blind

What stats do they focus on: Mobility and Recovery

Are they offense, defence, or support: Chloe is always offense, mostly because she just springs into action with no real plan in mind.

Do they prefer being close, mid, or long range: a combination of all three

Do they lean more "Element of Surprise" or "Upfront and Aggressive": Both

Strikes, Gambit, or Crucible: Gambit

Who was their mentor(if they had one. If it is a character you created, tell us about them!): She doesn't really have one

What ship do they have: Queen of Hearts

What is their Sparrow: Gambler's Palm

Favorite Ghost shell: Spelunking Shell

Favorite shader: Circadian Chill

Favorite color: Electric Blue

Favorite food: STEAK!!!

Favorite piece of Pre-Collapse tech(if they've seen any): A Polaroid Camera

Favorite Pre-Collapse music(if they've heard any): Country music (Prime Country ro Modern Country)

Favorite place in The Last City(if it's a place you created, give a little description!): A bar called the Golden Horse

Favorite NPC(s): Cayde-6, Banshee-44, Saint-14, and Amanda Holliday

Favorite patrol location: The EDZ

5 things your Guardian likes(can be anything): Horse back riding, camping, art, and photography

Least favorite food: Zucchini and Squash

Least favorite shader: Cayde's Dubs (unfortunately)

Least favorite patrol location: Formly Mercury, Currently Europa

Least favorite Pre-Collapse tech(if they've seen any): iPads

Least favorite NPC(s): Suraya Hawthorne

Least favorite weapon ornament: Pride of Omolon

Least favorite ornament armor set: Forbidden Visage

Least favorite legendary weapon: Any scout rifle

Least favorite exotic weapon: Whisper of the Worm

Least favorite exotic armor: Worm Huskcrown

5 things your Guardian dislikes(this can be anything): Being patient, being stuck in the tower, following orders, the Hive, and lizards

Your Guardian has to rest. What is their living space like: it's a studio loft with art supplies scattered everywhere

Does your Guardian have any casual wear?:

What hobbies and/or skills does you Guardian have: Drawing, Painting, Riding (Horses), Photography, playing piano

What would your Guardian's lore book be called: Reckless Danger

Where was your Guardian reborn?(If you created the location, give us a little description!): Cheyenne, Wyoming

What were they wearing when they were reborn: T-shirt, jeans, and boots

What was their reaction to being reborn: "why? What? Holy Fuck it's cold!"

What was their reaction to their first rez: "OMG, that's awesome!"

After being reborn, did they meet friendlies first or hostiles: Hostiles, namely the Eliskni

Who was the first other Guardian they met?(Same thing! If you made them, give a little description!): Isabelle Brigham, Chloe's best friend and the one who makes sure Chloe doesn't over do it.

Did your Guardian get reborn with, or find, any indication of their past life? If so what do they have/found: A photo of her and her father (Andal Brask) at her high school graduation

How did your Guardian get their name(if they didn't rez with past life momentos): the photo of her high school graduation had "Chloe and Dad, Graduation 2015"

Going back to your Guardian's lore book, what would be some some quotes or passages from their book: "You can't move mountains sittin' on your backside.", "I'm a hunter, knives ARE my religion!" OR "Why aren't you prettier than a magnolia in May."  (This is directed to a horse)

Does your Guardian have a significant other: Cayde-6

Did your Guardian go explore first before going to The Last City? If so, where to: Chloe went to straight to the The Last City.

What was their reaction to first seeing The Last City: She was surprised at how many people there were.

Is your Guardian a part of a clan: No

Does your Guardian's clan have a back story? If so, what is it?(if you want to or able to share): No

If your Guardian would have a quote as a flavor text for a weapon and/or piece of armor, what would they be: "Oh, these old things, can hide hundreds of knives in them."

If your Guardian has had any interactions with any civilians (The Last City/The Farm), Eliksni, Cabal, Vex, Hive, Taken, Scorn, Rouge Lightbearers, or Iron Lords/War Lords(if your Guardian is an Old Light) tell us about it!: Chloe loved helping the kids on the Farm learn to ride horses. She loved watching the smiles spread across their faces as they rode like the wind.

Does your Guardian have any unconventional allies or connections(By Vanguard standards): She has a civilian friend named Nikki who helps get supplies and ammunitions.

How does your Guardian feel about themselves or others using Stasis: At first, Chloe had no idea how she felt about it, seeing how she'd rather blow something up with her solar. After a while, she loves using it, especially in Gambit.

Did they run The Last Wish raid? How did they react to seeing a live Ahamkara a.k.a Riven: Chloe's not one for raids

Did they run The Deep Stone Crypt raid? How did they react to the Crypt and seeing Exo Eliskni: Absolutely shock at how thay was possible

Is your Guardian from D1? How did they react to seeing Taniks alive once again: Yes, she's from D1, let's just she was not happy.

Where did they go and what did they do during The Red War: Chloe helped escort civilians to safety and taught them self defense.  She mostly worried about Cayde when he was MIA.

Here are some characters that are either polarizing or have created a strong enough mass emotion within the community. What opinion does your Guardian hold on each of them(These are only a handful of characters!)>>>

Osiris, First Warlock Vanguard, originally exiled: Grandpa!

Eris Morn, Bane of the Swarm: Slightly creeped out, but overall really good friends with Eris.

Cayde-6, Sixth Hunter Vanguard: Chloe's fell head over heels for the exo

Ikora Rey, Second Warlock Vanguard: Mad respect

Commander Zavala, Second Titan Vanguard: Eh, she could careless about what Big Blue says

Saint-14, legendary Titan, First Titan Vanguard: Exo Grandpa!

Lord Saladin, Iron Banner handler, One of the last remaining Iron Lords: Wolf Man!

Lord Shaxx, Crucible handler, Hero of Twilight Gap, living megaphone: Chloe tends to avoid Crucible if possible

The Crow, New Light, Ex-Enforcer to The Spider: She's rather cold towards him.

The Spider, The Shore's Only Law, founder of "House" Spider: Eh, Chloe dosen't really care as long as she'd paid glimmer for her services

Uldren Sov, Prince of the Reef, Master of Crows: A deep dislike for him, he left a bad impression on her when they first met. Though she has to tolerate him since Isabelle is head over heels for the Prince

Mara Sov, Queen of the Reef, Queen of the Awoken, Ex-Kell of Wolves: She tolerates the Queen.

Variks, the Loyal, founder of House Judgement: Chloe doesn't trust people/Eliskni easily. Variks is maybe maybe only Eliskni, besides Mithrax, that she likes.

Mithrax, the Forsaken, Kell of Light, founder of House Light: Same answer as before

The Exo Stranger/Elizabeth "Elsie" Bray, Granddaughter of Clovis I and Sister to Ana Bray: Chloe finds her closed off and unable to really connect with her.

Eramis, of House Salvation, Kell of Darkness: "BITCH, YOU FROZE MY GHOST! THERE AIN'T A SOUL ALIVE WHO MESSED WITH HIM!"

Empress Caiatl of the Cabal Imperial Empire: She can't stand the Cabal, so Chloe doesn't like Caiatl very much.

Taniks the Scarred, the Perfected, the Abomination, the Shadow Thief: He killed her father in front of her..... rage is all she feels

The Darkness is fast approaching. How is your Guardian handling it: Pretty well actually.

And finally, does your Guardian have any advice for any New Lights: "Think 'what would Chloe do?' then do the polar opposite..."

[jedimasteramell]

A Means & An End

Original Characters // SFW // POST SWTOR

Is this canon? Who knows, you’ll have to ask @uldren-sov.  Taisic is the son of my zabrak Daya and U-S’s human Talcyn. Evacois, Talcyn’s younger brother, is theirs. 

------------

                                                                                                                    No... 

                                  Not like this...

Warmth like a spilled cup of mulled brandy blossomed across Evacios’ chest, a determined flow opposite of the cool trembling knife lodged below his breastbone. He figured he should have felt pain, the searing heat of his nerves on fire, perhaps shock or adrenaline had muted that, and all that remained was the wet, scarlet wave. 

Eva’s disbelieving golden eyes, turned up to meet a pair so like his own. His expression settled somewhere between fury and... disappointment, an emotion he’d felt little of these past years. His nephew’s face wore an entirely different set of feelings, some crude cross between regret and determination. 

“Im sorry uncle.”

The metallic taste of blood welled in his throat, and even if he wanted to spit accusations or final threats, he couldnt. Eva refused to let it trickle from the corner of his mouth, swallowing it to a fresh wave of pain as he slumped.

Rather than hitting the floor of the control room hard, Taisic guided him down, gently as one could a dying man with a foot long vibroknife piercing his chest. Eva might have still had control of his own body, decades of effort not about to be overridden by the actions of a fool-hearted young man, but that didn’t mean Tai was careful and Eva’s body twitched to a new shock of pain, and a tingling sensation in his legs. 

Eva’s vision swam and for a moment his nephew appeared the spitting image of his brother. Same auburn hair, same jawline, same brow-line, even if he had those damn horns, that gross mock of their shared bloodline. In that moment the old agent hated him, hated him more than he’d ever hated another person. He grit his teeth, and to his shame, felt a line of blood leak from the corner of his mouth. 

Above him, Tai knelt, resigned in his choices, somewhere distant, Eva heard the stations alarms blare, the mechanized voice warning of an engine overload. No... not after everything he’d sacrificed for this! Trying to move, his limited breath caught, eliciting the barest of grunts. Tai looked to the knife hilt, and then to the blood on his hands and couldn’t bring himself to remove it or grant Evacois a quick death. Coward. 

“Im sorry.” Tai said again, and the fool had so little nerve he had tears in his eyes. “I had to, I couldn’t let you keep hurting people, using us, using me. I thought....” And ye he had the nerve with the face so like his father’s to meet Eva’s eyes and have the gall to be apologetic. “I thought you cared about me, uncle, I thought we were doing good for the galaxy... not for you.”

Eva sneered, a wicked expression in his paling visage. Taisic was a smart kid, but poor at seeing the bigger picture, and filled with all the noble bullshit his mother spoon-fed him from infancy. If only Eva had gotten a hold of him sooner. They’d have been unstoppable, the son he could have been proud of, even in spite of his mixed heritage, just them ruling the galaxy... a worthy legacy. 

His harsh gaze flickered to the blade in his chest. Ironic. The very knife he’d given Tai all those years ago turned against him. The knife his father had derided, but his mother had pushed for accepting the gift. There must be some stupid kind of irony in there, and the tickle of a laugh caught the back of his throat. Breathing was becoming... strained.

Taisic tried for a sympathetic smile, as if such a gesture could make up for the fire and ruin he’d cast upon Eva’s life work. The young man reached to brush his uncles bangs out of his face; normally Eva would have smacked the tender hand away, not even his pretty proper wife touched him like that, but his arms refused to obey his commands and his head swam. The alarms rang both louder and more distant somewhere. 

Eva’s vision began fading, he couldn’t feel his limbs, just the bright blood on his chest and the warmth of the lap of his nephew who sounded too much like his mother and looked too much like his father. In his final moments, Eva hated him, mourned the loss of his work, but somehow... somehow he was just a little proud. He’d never wanted to go not of his own accord.... but this.... well, maybe.....

--

Taisic felt the life leave his uncle and every bit of strength that had carried him to this moment left his body and hsi shoulder fell. He’d not wanted to believe it, not wanted to admit dad was right, that Eva had always been after an ulterior motive. Even when the evidence was plain... he thought... he thought he could turn him around somehow.

Trousers and palms stained and sticky, Tai’s comm went off, his compatriot having finished her sabotaging and preparing for their escape from the doomed space station. For the moment however, he ignored it, to glance a final time at the uncle who’d been his mentor, who’d used him, who’d hurt his family, who could have ruled the galaxy. 

With care, Tai laid his body to the ground, closing those golden eyes painfully devoid of expression, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Force accept you, Uncle Evac. We loved you, and you... you could have been better than you knew.”

[grimoireweavers]

ULDREN TAG DROP—

( uldren ; muse ) the line between light and dark is so very thin ( uldren ; in character ) ( uldren ; visage ) ( uldren ; headcanon ) ( uldren ; musing ) ( uldren ; aesthetic ) ( uldren ; music ) ( uldren ; abilities ) ( uldren ; affiliates )

[unlucky-corvid]

Hairpin trigger

Yeah more of my OC phantom.

Warrning, death and gore mentioned.

Not proof read

Him.

Uldren, standard before me besides comander zavala of all people.

All this time. It had been uldren

A million secnarios race through my head because the last I saw of that slimey Prince was when I painted the floor with the insides of his head. The crimson trickling donwn the steps of ivory stone causes a shiver in me as it flashes in my head. I streach my neck uncomfortably as the pressure in my jaw builds. My hand instinctively reaches for ace.

I feel an icey breeze brush over my hand and looking down I see a second hand over my own. One made of a black mist.

Of course he's here. He's always here.

"You put a bullet in his head once.

What's another round?"

My eyes drift to the little light bobbing along beside him. Glint he had called it. Glint was...sweet. but not sweet enough to quell the sea of feelings crashing over me.

Anger flushes through my veins hot and putrid.

Why him?

My thoughts are echoed by the grim specter wearing my lovers visage that stands over my shoulder, an unwelcome companion in my day today life who was...unusually chatty now.

"Him. Him of all people gets a 2nd chance. Look at him spooks. Look at his face. That's him." It hisses angrily in my ear.

Spooks.

It never sounds as it should. Not like it used to. But to hear him say it again, even if it isn't him, is enough for me. Enough for that desperate part of me that longs for him back knowing that this twisted vial mockery of cayde is all I have.

Uldren looks concerned, he knows what he has done to him...to me. To my future.

"Think of what he robbed from you doll, from us. That time. Those moments. Those possibilities."

The nightmares words cut deep, a grimace finds its way onto my face.

"And he comes to flaunt his new power, comes to mock my death, mock your pain. He deserves a 2nd bullet, my love"

I'm suddenly aware of my fingers wrapping around aceband pulling it out of its holster

"Phantom?" zavala says my name, both in concern and warning.

"He's no better is he. Bringing in that killer. But you're not going to disapoint me again are you, sweetheart. Not again. You failed me once. But you won't again will you? You're going to make up for what you let happen to me, like a good guardian. You're going to plant another bullet in that bastards head for me, like a good girl"

My hand trembles, the icey feeling back as the nightmares arm presses up against my own as if in effort to help null my trembeling.

"Don't listen to him, phantom" zavala says firm but somehow comforting. "Its not him. You know that. You know that's not what caude would really want and you know deep down this man isn't uldren. You know what being a guardian means"

He was right, the man before me didn't have uldrens memories or feelings.

"Do it. Do it...don't make me ask again"

For a second my grip on ace loosens.

"Kill him for me my little shadow. DO IT"

In a split second my arm raises and uldren drops to the floor. Zavala looks on in disbelief,seemingly unable to fathom what I had just done.

"Jobs not done, sweetie, your so close. Dont fail me again."

That's all it takes for me to lunge toward the ghost currently hovering over crow-uldrens lifeless body.

I'm fast. But zavala is faster.

My fingers graze glints core, just unable to to curl around the small sphear. Zavala is yelling at glint to hurry up and rez crow and get them both out of there. I think.

I'm too busy clawing at zavalas arms, purple and red marks littering the titans forearms and biceps.

Cayde is screaming at me but I can't hear him over the sounds of my own screaming. Desperate cries, begging zavala to trust me to let me just crush his ghost and make good on caydes life.

Eventually I cant fight anymore. My lungs burn, my throat feels like I've swallowd razorblades and I can taste blood.

Zavala walks me back to my apartment in silence. He offers to stay but I shut the door without a word. Caydes nightmare is nowhere to be seen and somehow I feel emptier.

Stumbling to the bathroom I spash water on my face only to look up and be met face to face with caydes nightmare looking angrier than ever.

"Failure! You had one job! One simple job and you couldn't even do that! Your worthless. Your worse than Worthless. I dont know what I ever saw in you. You don't deserve the mantle of being a hunter. Or a guardian."

I stumble back against the wall as it steps closer and closer.

"Take that cloak off, better yet. Burn it"

That night everything I had that even suggested I was a hunter got placed in the same box as caydes belongings.

That night, in the darkness of my apartment, caydes nightmare watching me from the seat that was once his, as I scratch the hunter emblems off my armour.

I don't deserve them.