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I don’t play a lot of iron banner bc I’m bad at it and also I can’t get over the way Lord Saladin speaks. Like,,, what do you want from me sir? Do you not see this massive pink bow on my back?? I’m a married woman??? Taketh thy sin from my sight????

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Lets see Ikora and Asher, "I need a place to stay" sfw please!

Oof! OOOF! Ikora/Asher “I need a place to stay.” Sfw. Big warning for Asher angst.

Ikora jolts awake.

   "Do you want me to get that?“ Ophiuchus whispers as he floats toward Ikora and her nest of blankets wadded up in the corner of the sofa.

   The Warlock Vanguard shakes her head as someone continues to knock softly at her door. She gathers the books littered around her, including the one she had fallen asleep against, and dumps them onto the equally book-filled coffee table.

   "No, I’ll answer it,” Ikora sighs as she stumbles to her feet and rubs the heavy creases of rumpled pages from her temple and cheek. And because she’s still learning how to be a good friend, she belated adds. “But thank you.”

   Ophiuchus seems to appreciate it. He zips off toward the kitchen to boil some water in preparation for either tea or coffee- the brew depending on Ikora’s level of acceptance when she realizes the hour.

   Ikora doesn’t bother to straighten her robe. Whoever knocks on her door in the dead of night must accept the Warlock Vanguard in a pair of loose shorts and a novelty tshirt gifted by Cayde years ago that proclaims ‘I’m Vanguard. Don’t test me.’ across the chest in airbrushed script.

   She opens up to one of the last faces she might have expected. Not only because it is a rare face in the Tower, but also because it has changed. Asher Mir squints against the bright lights that now bathe the hallway. The reaction pulls at the skin around his eyes and on the right, it stretches a shiny range of scabs that cut across the Awoken’s face. The mottled flesh blends into metallic flakes that sweep from jaw to neck and solidify before they finally disappear under an unseasonal scarf and high collar.


   "I need a place to stay.“

   It might have once been an imperious order- Asher’s particular brand of confidence and intolerance- but tonight, it only sounds tired tinged with a scratch of something not quite of Earth.

   Ikora stares at the progression of Vex transformation again. It must penetrate the throat and push toward vocal cords. Perhaps the lungs too given the shallow way the man sways- diaphragm trying to compensate for-


   She snaps out of her assessments.

   Asher’s white hair hangs and he clutches at his metal hand as if he is afraid to let it hang unsupervised. “I apologize for the interruption but it has come to my attention that I am in need of…much assistance.”

   Despite a frighteningly rare apology, there is still pride running deep beneath confession. It is bruised and misshapen but Ikora is intimately familiar with that sort of forced transformation to one’s ego.

   The difficulty is evident when Asher swallows. “I did not know where else I might be welcome.”

   Ikora reaches slowly for his hands- both Awoken and Vex- and draws him inside her apartment. “Come in, my friend.”

*Sun 3/29 last day for prompts! Btw, I am without income due to the pandemic. Tips for prompts are not mandatory but greatly appreciated!

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before he was a Guardian, Saffron lived during the Dark Ages as the only son of an Awoken Warlord. it wasn’t the kind of life he wanted at all & was always defying his father every chance he got. he ultimately met his end when he tried to negotiate peace with a one of his father’s rivals and it did not go as planned.

as a Guardian, he lives a much more laid back life, spending time tending to his plants and preparing for lectures in the Warlock Hall. he’s also a well known and infamous undefeated debate champion among the Hall.

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