[i]Xel-15 had been known for his, open diplomacy with the fallen if not for his prowess in the crucible. Often striking conversations with vandals and dregs that had lowered thier arms, rendered defenseless. So far he had learned that the devils despise guardians with a passion of 5,000 condensed suns after Sepiks Prime fell, the house of winter is at a disarray after the death of Draksis, house of exile is ruled by a circle of barons who are desperately trying to gain full control, house of wolves say that the reef is a hell-hole, yet house kings refuse to strike up a conversation. Fascinating indeed. Xel is on the lookout for docking caps for executor Hideo. Today none of the fallen he encountered felt like having a friendly conversation. It's a shame for them, Xel sometimes decided to let them go after seeing the kind if being they are. Oh how he longs for a striking conversation. He sits down in the divide, and starts tinkering with his apple of discord. He looks up at the sky and remembers the day he was resurrected. What an eventful day he thought. He then looked at his own robot body and remembered all those weirdly strange augmentations he makes on him.[/i] X: Ghost, where's David? G: He's in a blizzard right now. He contacted Adara to help him rescue another titan. X: Well why didn't he ask for my help? G: He said that visibility is less than 15 centimeters, 50 fallen and about 3 spider walkers. X: Oh. Well I see. Leave it to her, I'll just be here... [i]Tinkering...[/i] (Open.)