#saintxiv

when osiris looks over at him, standing caressed in the late mercury dusk, he thinks saint belongs in an oil painting. the blue-grey light contorting over his metal plates makes them as bottomless as titan’s oceans, & he knows he could get lost staring into them. he wants to trace his fingers over the spaces where steel meets softer black tissue, explore the wires that connect joints & sockets like tendons. he wants to press his lips to every knuckle & bask in the gentle purple glow emanating from deep inside him. he’s the most holy creation osiris has ever witnessed ( and that’s been plenty. ) he wishes he was a stronger man so perhaps he could confess his staunch belief that if saint was not the word of god, then god never spoke. 

ikora is distracted from saint’s approach by a report from one of her hidden, intent in studying the information presented. it isn’t until he speaks that she realizes he’s there, and it isn’t until he offers forth the little friend that she locks the datapad puts it away. 

of all the titans, saint is perhaps the gentlest. shaxx is strong, a monster on the battlefield. zavala has a keen mind, and serves as an excellent vanguard. but saint... saint has the softest hands she’d ever felt, the kindest eyes. and now, holding a flighty little bird in his hands, ikora remembers just how much she ADORES him. 

“oh, saint...” reaching over, the vanguard offers the bird a little finger. after a few strokes of its head, it begins to coo. and ikora? oh, she can only smile up at him. there is nothing but love and adoration in those eyes. “i had forgotten how precious these little creatures are up close. and look how much it trusts you.” 

Osiris watched until the outcome became painfully obvious, the hordes of Vex, the never ending onslaught as Light grew weak, breaking. Tired eyes closed, another book reaching its end as he had stood turning to make his leave, yet he couldn’t actually walk away, not when a chance still existed. Of everything he had done, the mess and chaos he had made, intentionally or indirectly, Saint was always by his side. ‘You’re not going to just leave him like this.’ Sagira’s voice pulling him back to the now. Was only a moment and he was running to the edge, flames quickly surrounding him and his blade slicing through what remained. 

Dropping his khopesh at his side, flames steadily burning along the blade as he knelt alongside Saint. “You’re a fool, you know this? You’re not dying on me, Saint...” the uncertainty broke through his normally steady voice. The Exo’s wounds were far worse than he thought, and Osiris looked desperately around for any sign of his Ghost. “Have to get you away from here, they wont stop.” Osiris stands offering a hand, struggling to yank the Titan up. 

so,  he  was  separated  from  his  tenno  half,  alone,  lost,  and  on  top  of  that  in  a  place  he’s  never  seen.  it  reminds  him,  if  nothing  else,  of  the  time  before  the  old  war.  but  perhaps  a  bit  less  resource - ravaged  than  he  remembers.  perhaps  another  system  all  together...  he  doesn’t  exactly  have  a  MAP  of  the  place,  now  does  he?

he’d  taken  quite  a  few  infestation - like  creatures  that  had  been  attacking  him,  sword  in  hand  as  one  more  carapace  fell  to  the  ground.  hopefully  that  will  be  the  last  of  them  for  now.  umbra  grips  his  sword  tighter  when  he  hears  footsteps,  preparing  for  another  one  of  those  strange  creatures  to  attack.