#travlersghost

[aluminescentguardian-blog]

@travlersghost

“Looking for my guardian ofcourse!” The ghost said peering into a building.

Cyra looked at the little Ghost curiously. “How long have you been searching for your Guardian?” She asked. It was interesting to see the Ghost searching. She knew some Ghosts could search for centuries and never find them. 

Requiem once confessed she’d been looking for Cyra for over 900 years. 

[dirtybets-blog]

travlersghost answered your question:Okay, new bet. Cayde, or Efrideet?

I bet on Saladin

“I’m going to put you in the ugliest shell I can get my hands on.”

[cruciblc]

@travlersghost replied to your post:OOC: Is it bad if I thought of guradianless ghosts...

OOC: Now all I can think is that Shaxx gets judgy of who the lil ghosties bring back to fight or if a guardian says they aren’t into the crucible.

[ “ghost i don’t wanna go into the crucible” “no wait guardian just like one round pls” *disapproving shaxx noises* “GUARDIAN PLEASE” “BUT I DON’T LIKE IT, GHOST” *shaxx muttering* “ok no more pauldron privileges for u” *quiet ghost screaming* ]

[lightwisps]

→ scene;; a search.

( travlersghost )

"–No one here,” they announced aloud as they received yet another [ NEGATIVE ] result for their scans. They do their best to not sound frustrated as they restart their vast search in the Cosmodrome, flying through the wreckage of the Golden Age to find something (someone) else to look for.

They look at their fellow Ghost, their top flippers perking up a bit in greeting. There’s some content in the knowledge that they’re not alone this time. It’s nice to have company for once. “I hope you’ve been having a better chance of success there.”

[cruciblc]

▤

MY MUSE’S REACTION TO YOURS FALLING ASLEEP ON THEM.

He can see out of the corner of his eye,his Ghost drifting downward ever so slightly,optic flickering and the little form wavering.Tired, he tells himself, been tired for a while,it was about time the Ghost settled for a recharge;he thinks these thingsas he turns his attention to a lingering Hunter,gives him the weapon and armor he’s paid for,and delivers some kind of backhanded complimentto send him on his way.A light weight settles on his shoulderas the Crucible Handler says this compliment,and he looks over to see the rosy shellsettled among the faux fur adorning his form.A gloved hand reaches up as the Hunter steals away,digits running carefully over the raised formbefore his hand drops back to his sideand he says in a soft voice,          “Sleep well, little one.”He keeps a more still and straighter posture,refraining from his habit of shifting every so oftenso that his Ghost would not fall off the precarious perch.Though he does end up reaching to his shoulderoften to make sure she’s still there, running a gentle hand over her shell,and quietly hoping, wondering, that while Ghosts slept,and if they dreamt of anything, if they dreamt at all,that they did not dream of the horrors they so often face with their Guardians.