We Did It Guys. We Finally Got Mara To Express A Strong Emotion. Unfortunately It Was Terrible, Burning

Destcember Day 5: Black and White

So many guardians see our fight against our enemies in black and white. We are the heroes, dauntless knights fighting endlessly against the forces of evil, who long only to destroy us solely for the furtherment of evil. But things are never that simple. Every one of our enemies has their own stories and reasons to take up arms against us. The Cabal who so recently destroyed us are merely foot soldiers in a vast empire, knowing not why they attack, just following the orders that were passed down to them from a chain of command that they have no authority to even question. The Vex are fighting against the inevitable, for ever trying to stave of the heat death of the universe, warping time, space, and causality in service to their salvation, their "Pattern". The Fallen are lost nomads, with no home to call their own, their homeworld destroyed by the Darkness that we fight so hard against. Now they chase after their Great Machine, hoping, just like us, for the chance to reclaim their golden age. The Scorn have been corrupted by a force greater than them, using the Darkness in an attempt to free themselves from their dependence on Either and Servitors and to bring back those they lose to the deaths that we so often inflict upon them. The Hive and Taken, servants of the very Darkness itself, have their reasons as well. The Hive are slaves of their own free will, eternally killing and destroying to feed their worms, lest they be consumed themselves. They only chose this path for themselves after being in dire straits, with their choices being to take the worms into themselves and serve the Worm Gods, or have their species wiped out by an approaching disaster. Now they fight to survive, to bring the universe to its "final shape" and live forever by becoming death. The Taken, perhaps most pitiful of all, have no will of their own, being puppets to a will greater than their own, often being forced to fight against their former allies and kill those they once called friend. Even the Darkness may have a reason for their actions, though even I doubt that. To each of them we are the boogeymen, immortal monsters that can slaughter their way through hundreds of valiant warriors, with terrible powers of scorching light and weapons that have been known to kill even gods, before dying, only to return seconds later as if nothing ever happened. So, next time you begin to think in black and white, consider what I have said today and what your enemies think of you.

Destcember #1: A New Look

"Should I even ask why you have a screwdriver in you head?"

"Ok, so you know how exos can have the same base body but different colored eyes? Well, I think it might be a setting I can manually adjust and I want a new look."

"Then buy some shaders. All you are going to do is blind yourself."

"No I'm not, and even if I did you could just revive me good as new.

There, I think I got it. Let's see, red, orange, white..."

"Black?"

"No, I blinded myself. I'll just turn it back... and its stuck."

"I told you."

"You did. Now just reset me before I fall off the Tower."

"In a bit. It's funny to watch you stumble. I'll be back one have learned your lesson. In the meantime, enjoy your new look."

"Hilarious Yew...

You still there, Yew?

Well, she's gone."

Destcember Day #5: A Day Off

A concerned guardian stands in the doorway of their friend's study. Inside, a frazzled looking warlock is scrawling notes with handwriting almost as indecipherable as the Hive language they are studying. The glow of the runes cast a green light on the face of the exo, forming shadowy bags under his eyes. He looks up from his work as his friend begins to speak.

"Ash, you look terrible. When was the last time you took a day off? No, forget that, when was the last time you even slept?"

"Does dying count as sleeping?"

"No."

"In that case, I don't know. I think it was Thursday."

"Today is Wednesday."

From beneath a pile of scrolls, a muffled voice joins the conversation.

"First of all, it wasn't even a Thursday this month. Secondly, could someone please help me out here."

Surprised by the voice of his ghost, the warlock quickly unearths his buried ghost. Now freed, the bemused companion floats up to hover above her guardian's shoulder.

"Sorry Yew. I was wondering where you had gone. How did you end up under there anyway?"

"I fell asleep. Honestly, it's a miracle you haven't collapse yet. The only rest you have gotten in the past week was the time one of your expirements killed you and even that was only for the few seconds until I could resurrect you."

"Technically, exos don't have to sleep. Nor do we have to take days off."

Finally shaken out of their shocked stupor by that statement, the titan calmly walks into the room and proceeds to throw the warlock over their shoulder. They protest weakly as they are carted off before they fall silent. Ignoring their protestations, the titan explains what is going to happen to happen, making it clear that their cargo has no choice in the matter.

"That does it, you are taking a day off. No! You are taking a week off. You may not physically have to sleep, but it is terrible for you mentally. Not to mention the effect that prolonged exposure to all this Hive stuff must be having on you. Don't bother trying to argue, I won't take no for an...

Aaaannd he fell asleep."

Do the Offering to the Oracle First This Week

Hopefully no spoilers, but seriously, it's super important to the story. Don't put it off, you'll want to see it.

Destcember Day #6:

For Every Rose A Thorn

While I can appreciate the work that they do to protect the Last City, I honestly cannot stand the Praxic Order. At their best, they are warriors of the Light that honestly do what they think will stop the Darkness, even if they go about it like zealots. At their worst, they can act like thugs, going out of their way to intimidate anyone who tries to study the Darkness into abandoning their work and threatening to kill them otherwise. Most of them are better than that and there are a few who I even respect, but the sight of them gives me a headache. While their goal seems noble, they fail to see the subtleties.

Take their stance on guardians using the Thorn. They heavily discourage its use and sometimes go as far as to trail users in case they are Shadows of Yor. At the same time, the promote the use of Lumina and its reproduction. One is decried as a tool of Darkness and the other hailed as a weapon of the Light. As a proud owner of both, I can tell you that they are practically the same weapon. Sure, one is white and the other a dark black, but they both steal the life energy of their victims to empower themselves. The only difference is in how the stolen essence is redistributed. Do they honestly think that the health it restores comes from nowhere?

Of course, that is just a microcosm of my issue with their ideals. If we are to save ourselves, we need all of the power we can get, even if the source is impure. Attempting to ban the use of Darkness in service of the Light holds us back. I've seen Fallen squadrons break and flee from watching one of their comrades break into ashes as a single bullet wound eats them from the inside out. Sure, a bullet from a Thorn kills worse, but because of it I've had to kill less. It is a display of danger, unlike the Lumina, which displays beauty before function. No one avoids a rosebush because of its beauty. They are careful because behind every delicate rose is a thorn to keep it safe. As guardians, we cannot afford to be the innocent roses, free of guilt or pain. That we leave to the civilians of the city so that we may one day join them. For now, we must bear the burden of the thorns, inflicting harm on any threats, no matter how we must do it and no matter how it may leave us broken. When we succeed, then there will be time to heal. But for now, we must be thorns.

Destcember Day 3: Living Without the Light

I was asleep in my appartment when the when the Red Legion sealed the Traveler's Light. The change was so stark that it immediately jolted me into conciousness. It was like the constant, soothing fire of the Void Light in my chest had been extinguished, leaving me cold and weak. I tried to rouse Yew, but the most she could produce was a flicker of light or the occasional distorted word. I was going to be on my own for a long while.

Then, I heard the screaming. Cabal drop pods were falling from the sky, smashing buildings and people unlucky enough to be caught in their path. From them poured hundreds of legionaries, psions, and ever other kind of soldier at their disposal. I saw squads of legionaries rounding up everyone that they found fleeing and executing them, while incendiors and war beasts flushed out anyone who had managed to hide. Even without my Light or a chance of being brought back if I died, I had to do something to help.

Luckily, I had prepared to have to flee the City, as with all of the enemies of humanity in the system, I figured that an attack on the City was inevitable. All the weapons that I had stored in the vault were gone, but I always keep a few hidden away in my home and on my person. I took every weapon I could carry and the books and artifacts that I could not afford to let burn with my home. I gently placed Yew in bag and then abandoned the soon to be ruins of my home. As I fled the City, I gathered any survivors I could find, leading them down the burning back alleys and through a series of tunnels that ended outside the Wall. Once we were clear, I brought my bedraggled group to a pack of Eliksni that I had managed to befriend, having brought them any either tanks that I had found while patrolling the system, and called in every favor I had. And with that, I turned back to the burning city. I didn't have the light or my ghost, but I had allies and preparation, and that would have to do.

On the next max curse week, we need to bring Lord Shaxx and/or Petra with us into Mara's Acendent Realm for a visit. All that time brooding alone is bad for her health. At the very least, we should be able to bring that bow that Shaxx got her as a belated Dawning gift, because his enthusiasm and embarrassment were adorable and it would be good for Mara to know that someone other than Petra cares for her as something more than their queen.

All such amazing options

the next destiny 2 season, you’re put on a string of various dates arranged by emperor calus cause he heard you were alone the past two years of crimson days and felt bad after all you’ve done for him

that’s the entire raid. if you don’t get with anyone by the end of the raid you have to date calus himself

Proposal for a new type emote: Emotes that let your Ghost emote with you. The possibilities are endless, but include:

Your ghost flying around your head

Sitting with your ghost on your shoulder

Disco ball ghost

Ghost spinning on your finger like a basketball

Ghost scanning you and using their little laser on different spots

Multi-person emotes where you stand around and your ghosts talk

And many, many more.

Destcember Day #3: A Long Shadow

Humanity stands like a young sapling in an old forest. We have so much potential to grow large and prosper. We were on our way even before the Traveler ushered in the Golden Age. With just a little room and a bit of time, we could have been something great. But it was not to be, because we started our journey late. We were not in some bright clearing or field. No, we exist in the long shadow of the old races. The Hive came and blotted out our Light with their Darkness. It was so easy too, for they have enjoyed the benefits of maturity and age for billions of years before our little star even began to form, let alone our race. So, here in the shade of the old and the Darkness, we are left with two choices.

We can allow ourselves to wilt away into dust and rot, just a minor footnote in the logs of the Hive. It would be so easy. If we just stopped fighting, they would gladly wipe us without a shred of hesitation or remorse. If we were lucky, some of us might be taken by the Cabal as oddities or a new client race. Maybe some would survive the purge for a time, huddled together in the cold until nature runs its course or they find themselves at the end of a scout's gun. Our spark would go out and be forgotten in the shade. However, we have never chosen the easy path.

In order for a sapling to prosper, the old growth must be cut away. The old trees must be chopped away and cut down to size. Only then can the light pierce through the dark. Only then can the weak and the young begin to grow.

So take up your Light and your guns and wield them like an axe. Cut and cut and cut until the rivers run brown with the sap of the old trees. Cut until the Dark is no more than an old story that we tell our children. Cut until there is nothing left between you and the Sky. Today they may cast a long shadow, but tomorrow they will cast a shadow no longer.