Blank Slate Ch.7: Social Interaction?

Table of Contents https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/225386550/0/0 I was revived a little over fifty years ago. Guardians didn't age, and many lived longer than that, so it wasn't incredibly impressive. Many were also killed before then, though. My constant blanks had changed. Now when it happened, I was trying to dig up a memory or I simply forgot what was happening around me. It usually didn't happen when I was in combat, though. I could focus on fighting. Blanc had taken to reading through the Tower's records while I drifted through my thoughts. We didn't do much other than scout, but we had become very experienced. I'd been almost everywhere. The Cosmodrome, a walled off area of Old Russia close to the Last City. It was controlled by the Fallen House of Devils and House of Kings. Their activity had increased dramatically in the past few days. The Vanguard had increased the number of Guardians on the City's walls. Venus, full of Vex and the House of Winter. Mars, a constant war zone between the Vex and a conquering empire known as the Cabal. No one went to the Moon. It had been infested by the Hive, a vile species that served the Darkness. Once, thousands of Warlocks led an attempt to take it back. They would have done so with relative ease, if not for one being. Crota, whom the Hive worshipped like a god, was somehow impossible to kill. He slaughtered them, and killed Wei Ning, the famous Titan. I looked down at myself. After volunteering to watch the Vault a few more times, I had completed the Hezen Lords armor set. The helmet was sleek, and had a dark visor. My collar had a ring of armor around it, and the robe had an intricate design like two curved ladders crossing over each other. I had purchased an armor shader from the Guardian Outfitter, called God of War, that made my armor a metallic blood red. After advertising Dead Orbit for twenty years, they had given me a new Bond, called "Light Beyond." Similar to the first one, it was a black band. It projected a hologram of the Dead Orbit logo, centered in the image of a solar system. I'd stayed in contact with Salem, and we'd gone scouting and patrolling together every now and then. On my fiftieth anniversary, he'd taken me to a bar in the City. He'd said something about me needing to meet girls and getting to lay down, but I didn't understand. There were other Guardians there, and we sat with them. They talked and drank and enjoyed themselves. Salem and I watched and listened. It was fun, if I was remembering what fun was correctly. At least my memory is mostly intact, I thought, Constantly losing track of my surroundings isn't so bad, and I remembered most things. Even if I had to dig for them. I frowned. [i]Though I clearly have a problem with going over things I already know in my head. I just told myself my life story for no reason. It's not as if some being just jumped into a story and needs someone to explain what they missed. Like in a boo- .... What was I thinking about? Where am I?[/i] I looked up. I was standing in the courtyard, next to the edge of the Tower. The Traveler sat over the City, probably as lost in thought as me. "Blanc," I inquired, "What are we doing here?" "Waiting for Salem," Blanc answered, "He's signing us up for a mission. Nothing specific, he just figured we could all use some time with at least one other Guardian." "You, Salem, and his Ghost are the only social interaction I require," I said. "That's sweet," Blanc giggled, materializing and scrunching up her shell around her eye, "But Salem's right. The four of us need friends. We spend so much time alone, and we rarely speak to anyone. Maybe we can join a Fireteam. There's bound to be four other Guardians that'll want you two around." "She's right," Salem said, returning from the Vanguard Hall and leaning on the railing next to me, "One day, we could all get killed scouting, and only the Vanguard would even notice." He paused to think for a moment, then added, "And the Tower staff. You space out in the weirdest places." His Ghost materialized and drifted around us, saying, "We don't need more friends, we're all we need. But more friends would be a notable improvement." "That, and KS needs to talk to people," Salem continued, looking over his shoulder at me, "I occasionally chat in the Crucible, but you don't talk to anyone but us. You need friends, maybe a girlfriend. Don't get me wrong, Blanc, you're everyone's dream girl. But you're too good for him." "Thanks," Blanc blushed. "I don't see the significance in having another friend that is specifically a female," I pondered, looking out at the City, "Blanc is my female friend." "Did you mean that like girlfriend?" Blanc asked, half to herself, confused. Salem groaned, "Maybe I should just take you to another bar and get you lai-" he stiffened and exclaimed, "Wait! Can Exos even have-" "Smoke," I muttered, cutting him off. "What?" Salem, his Ghost, and Blanc asked in unison. I pointed. A few clouds of smoke were rising outside the City's walls. "Mother of moons," Salem cursed under his breath. "Isn't that a quote from those Star W-" Salem's Ghost was cut off as all our comms turned on. "Attention all Guardians!" a gruff and weathered male voice announced, "This is Lord Saladin. The Fallen are attacking the Last City. Our forces are currently keeping them at bay, but we need everyone to do their duty. Get to the walls as soon as possible. From there, Commander Zavala, Lord Shaxx, and I will direct you. Now, Guardians!" The comms shut off with a sizzle of static. "Ghosts," Salem said. "On it," his Ghost and Blanc replied. After a few moments, a number of ships began crowding over the Tower. Guardians ran back and forth across the courtyard, many of them transmatting into their ships. Salem's gray Kestrel darted overhead, and he vanished the second it was close enough for transmat. "Too much traffic," Blanc hissed, "I put it directly below us." I put a hand on the railing and rolled over it, off the edge of the Tower. I had done this multiple times before, after seeing other Guardians do it. It was very useful when there were too many ships flocking to and from the Tower. Like the time Banshee forgot the prices of his guns, or when a Hunter challenged the Titan Vanguard to an arm wrestling match. As I plummeted down the side of the Tower, I saw Act on Instinct hovering halfway down. It was blue with a long, triangular nose. It's four short wings stuck out at angles and were painted red. When I was close enough, Blanc transmatted me into the cockpit. I grabbed the steering handles and turned us towards the opposite side of the Last City.