#that he INVENTED their face on a random thrall. yes that must be it. it has to br

[attractthecrows]

i think it would be fun (for me and my schadenfreude boner) if Gortash was around for business when Kressa Bonedaughter was fuckin around with Durge. Maybe he's not in the workshop, and certainly he had no idea that his Durge was here as a plaything; he's here to discuss the new plan with Ketheric, or simply just trying to avoid Orin.

He never liked the place; necromancy isn't in his purview, and Durge hated necromancers anyways. But something about the place is holding him there. Some familiar undertone to the undead gibbering, at the same time compelling and repulsive. Kressa leaves her workshop, not bothering to shut the door all the way, and within, Gortash can see some poor sod laid out on the table. The floor is sticky with blood and bile, the victim's intestines pulled from their body and hung on a rack beside them, still attached at the ends. As he watches, the hands twitch unconsciously, the jaw snapping and gasping for air. Their head flops to one side, still gnashing with all the coordination of the shambling dead, and Gortash freezes. Part of their skull is crushed, with something twitching amongst the exposed grey matter, but he knows the eyes staring in his direction. There is no spark of recognition, no hint of life, but he knows those eyes.

He does not return.

[youngster-monster]

Day seven // quiet I

"See, that's why they don't like to let you out of the Tower." 

Cayde opens his mouth, stops, and then makes a rude gesture at Amanda as a reply. She tightens a screw in his wrist with more force than strictly necessary and looks smug when his entire arm seizes and jerks.

The other two Vanguards watch them with bemusement for another few moments before Zavala speaks up.

"What happened, exactly?"

Amabda and Cayde share a look before she shrugs. "I dunno."

She could tell them what happened. How Cayde got his hands on a piece of Vex technology, decided to play a prank on them all, and tried to use it to connect himself directly to the [sound system] of the Tower. She won’t, though. Mostly because she has no idea how to explain it in a way that won't sound insanely stupid.

Don't get her wrong: it was. She has no idea what he meant to do once he managed that, but he's lucky it only blew a few couplings and most of his voice box. It could very well have killed him. Sundance’s still not recovered for it: she’s still so glitched out she can’t heal him, and they sent her to be repaired. Hence the maintenance she’s doing on him, trying to get some of his finer motor control back.

But she's in a merciful mood today and not feeling like throwing Cayde under the Vanguard bus. She already lectured him once, anyway, and she's always been a bit soft when it comes to him.

He signs something quickly, passing it off as a random spasm of his hand. IOU. She throws him a glance that she hopes conveys the hell yeah you do burning her tongue.

Zaval sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose and turns on his heels, striding off without another word. She feels guilty for stressing him out… briefly. It’s a bit fun to see his aggravated look whenever Cayde gets into this kind of situation.

Cayde isn’t exactly the quiet type. He likes to chat with anyone passing by, gossip with the engineers, banter with the Guardians coming to drop reports and pick up assignments. So having him be completely silent is disconcerting to say the least.

He makes up for it by being even more of a nuisance than usual, now wordlessly. An hour in he realized he could still communicate in sign language, and that Amanda is the only person around who’s fluent in it. He taught her, so she can’t pretend she doesn’t understand him when he signs stuff.

That was the start of her troubles. Cayde has no qualm throwing her balled up papers and stealing her stuff so she’ll look at him and he can tell her a joke he just thought up.

She’s starting to feel a little bit insane, replying to him out loud when no one else can hear — or rather, see — what’s he’s saying.

“You know, I thought I’d get a break from you today,” Amanda says, “But you’re even more annoying like that.”

“I’ll shut up when I’m dead,” he signs.

“Pretty sure even that won’t stop you.”

He’s about to reply when something behind her catches his attention. He perks up and waves animatedly in the direction of—

Oh, of course. Razel.

He walks up to them with a spring in his steps, obviously in a good mood. They go through their elaborate secret handshake, then he holds up a takeout bag and shakes it slightly.

“Got a new assignment, leaving tomorrow,” he says. “Lunch before I go?”

Cayde waves at Amanda as they leave. She watches them go and wonder how long it’ll take for Razel to notice Cayde can’t speak.

(She’s betting on a few hours.)

“- and then Lek kicked its head like a football into a group of Cursed Thralls, just when I was throwing a grenade and… well, long story short there’s a sinkhole on Mars, now, but it’s not my fault.”

Cayde’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. Now, that’s weird — he’s not the kind to do things silently.

“Hey, you’re quiet today,” Razel says.

Cayde moves his hands in some kind of pattern, then stops and rolls his eyes. He mimes an explosion instead, makes a cross with his arms then gestures to his throat.

“Your… throat? Voice? Your voice isn’t working?”

Nod.

“Because… something exploded?”

He starts to shake his head, stops, shrugs and makes a so-so gesture with his hand.

“A small explosion. So… Just tech troubles?”

Nod.

“Vex tech? Or just yours actin’ up?”

Two fingers raised. Both.

“You and Vex tech, I swear.”

Another shrug. That’s fair. Can’t blame a guy for being curious.

“Sundance’s out of commission?”

His eyes narrow, his light dimming in his version of a grimace. So, she was taken out by the same thing that knocked out his voice box or whatever that’s malfunctioning at the moment. Not unusual by any mean.

Razel chases the last few grains of rice in his takeout container with his chopsticks, thoughtful. “Wasn’t Holliday talking to you though? Have you just been miming stuff to her all morning?”

He tilts his head, opens his hands in front of him and nods. Pretty much.

(Razel is a pro at reading Cayde’s body language. He has very dramatic movements, it’s pretty easy as long as he’s not trying to hide anything.)

Then Cayde turns to face Razel fully and makes another of his weird hand patterns, repeating it a few time so Razel knows it’s deliberate. Then he slowly traces letters in the air.

“s-i-g-n-l-a-n-g-u-a-g-e… Huh. Didn’t know that was a thing. Is that a Hunter thing?”

Another so-so gesture. So, used by Hunters but not invented by them. Alright.

“That’s cool. Must be useful.”

Cayde nods. His hands fly forward, signing something quickly and almost unconsciously before he catches himself. Clearly it’s an old habit if it’s already a habit after a mere few hours without a voice.

“Can you teach me?”

Now that seems to take him aback. Not for long, though. He nods enthusiastically and pushes their empty takeout containers, gesturing to Razel to face him. He does, crossing his legs as if he were about to meditate.

Cayde points to his own chest then does five hand signs in quick succession.

“That’s— your name?”

Nod. He makes the first sign again and keeps it up until Razel mimics him. Then the second, the third, until he can spell ‘Cayde’ with relative ease. Cayde nods in approval then signs something else, this one quicker.

“What’s that?”

Cayde points to himself again.

“Your name?”

He nods and gestures to the holster at his thigh, holding the Ace of Spade.

“Your name is sign language is… Ace of Spade?”

Nod.

“Guess that’s easier than spelling Cayde every time.”

He shrugs, like it’s not really the point but it’s not a wrong interpretation either. Then he points at Razel and makes five signs again. Two he recognizes as the A and E, so it must be his name. It’s easier to learn the signs this time around. He got into the rhythm of it.

Cayde’s light brightens in a smile. He traces a heart in the air with both index fingers before making a kind of swishing motion through the heart. At his puzzled look, he points at Razel then does it again.

“Oh- Is that mine? My, huh- my name-sign?”

Nod.

“What does it mean?”

The heart again, and, yeah, guess that’s self explanatory, then he nods at Razel’s sword, abandoned next to them so it wouldn’t get in the way of him sitting.

“Sword heart? Why?”

Cayde points to himself, makes a heart with his fingers, then points to Razel. Because I heart you. Razel kicks him lightly in the shin, grinning.

“You’re such a sap. Teach me the alphabet, you big mushy idiot.”

He gets a faintly offended look at that, like being called an idiot by Razel hurts his ego more than he expected. But it takes one to know one. Then Cayde surges forward and presses a quick kiss on Razel’s smiling lips. The message is clear: who’s the sap now?

He rolls his eyes. “How do I sign that?”

Cayde gives him another peck on the lips, as if to confirm.

“Yes, that. How do I sign it?”

There’s a hand against his shoulder, pushing him backward. He goes willingly enough, smiling slightly as Cayde pushes him to the floor and straddles his hips.

You don’t, it means, you just do it instead.

“Fine by me,” he whispers before dragging Cayde down to his level so he can kiss him some more.

He’s got to practice, after all.

(Cayde does end up teaching him the alphabet… eventually. Not for a long while, though. He can’t seem to get his hands off Razel long enough for it.)