Long Destiny ramble post ahead. Can't get the brain to turn off.
Recently, whenever I listen to heavy rain and thunderstorms, the same thoughts come to mind.
Moth finds both sorrow and solace in the EDZ, for what once stood as a testament to humanity, but also how nature reclaims and survives in the face of collapse. There's a special kind of silence to be found in the EDZ, one unlike any other. Not exactly the kind that has complete absence of sound, but one that offers its own sort of serenity in the music of the wind in the trees, the melody of crickets at night, and the way thunder seems to linger in the empty space where humanity used to reside.
Moth prefers not to be alone. Alone can brew a concoction of nasty thoughts. It can bring the nightmares usually reserved for the darkness of closed eyes to the forefront like bad remakes - lets the tremendous weight of a guardian's sins threaten to topple them from their golden pedestal that they're so highly regarded upon. But sometimes, in the silence that nature fills, alone brings reprieve.
In the collapse that makes up the EDZ, Moth has made a space for himself. High up in a decrepit building, where nature and waged wars have torn it partially down, Moth appreciates alone. A space, a room unknown of its past, now offers the guardian shelter from unending chaos. Here, Moth collects trinkets, bobbles, and anything else of interest that he's found throughout his galactic travels, and slowly but surely creates himself a home away from home. One that's mostly untouched by the title of "guardian". Here, the awoken man, so used to his own silence, lays in his makeshift bed, listens to the bugs serenade the earth, watches the rain pour so thickly the world beyond it no longer exists, appreciates the silhouette of what remains as it's illuminated by lightning, and notices after awhile that the stars in the sky are no longer where they started out to be. But also, here in the false silence, Moth adds his own broken chord when the nightmares become too much for his unconscious self to handle.
However, this space isn't always meant for being alone, as said, Moth prefers not to be alone. I like to think that sometimes, when Crow, too, suffers the weight of the galaxy's burdens, he comes to partake in the false silence, and each time, Moth has some new old age artifact to show him. So far, their favorite is probably a deck of unfinished cards. It's missing a few and several of them have been crumpled and squished, but it's the company that comes with the games and not the game itself. Moth shows Crow how to play some wack version of Go Fish, though the game is made easier when the crumpled cards are memorized by their unique petrified states.
Although sometimes alone makes the title of guardian a bit more breathable, Moth will always light up when Crow comes to share it.
P.s. I like to think that Crow and Moth both drift soundly off to sleep here and sleep soundly until a ether mining unit drops in early morning and scares them both half to death.
