seepranne

No matter how much Ranka disliked the fact, it wasn't a subject Kaiser wanted to talk about. It was embarrassing enough, as is. He wasn't interested in laying it out on display like tableware. Some Guardians enjoyed blasting each other's heads off repeatedly. In the midst of that carnage, even though often lighthearted, the air felt different. Heavy. Oppressing. It was such a different world of terror from anything else - but the nicest things had to be earned, no matter how much it stung. Saint had a habit of repeating that. So often, even, that at this point it seemed automatic and habitual. Kaiser understood why he kept parroting it, but it didn't change the fact that he didn't like it much. One never got better without practice, but why would he want to get better at dying? That's all he did in the Crucible, anyway. Or ran away from a Titan in the middle of their Super - worst case scenario, getting disintegrated into atoms multiple times by that single, roaming bundle of

Ranka pushed the scrawny Lightbearer down the last steps to the Tower Hangar, his broken horn nearly digging itself into the man's back. An Eliksni waved at the Awoken with one of their hands before getting back to welding something across the damaged Sparrow's frame in front of them. Kaiser only raised his hand timidly for a second. He didn't have the time to greet back before the moment to do so had already passed. The Warlock winced when the pearl-coated kukuri pushed him forwards again with its large head. "You want to take a look at that armor, anyway. When has Saint bitten you for saying hi?" Ranka didn't understand what was so special about this armor - Dreis already had the set he always wore - but he wasn't one to judge. Not Dreis, and not things he didn't have any clue about. Which was quite a lot of things. Kaiser twirled to the side, bringing the rook to a lightly puzzled halt. "You're making me sound vain - and it's not Saint I'm worried about." With a minusculely