Guardians are rarely in the Tower long enough to bother renting an apartment. They’d rather blow their glimmer on new weapons and Sparrows, anyway. But they do need somewhere to crash when they stop by: the Last City doesn’t exactly have a booming hospitality industry.
On paper, barracks are the perfect solution to this problem.
In practice, they’re simultaneously worst and greatest invention known to humanity and the reason behind at least half of Zavala’s headaches.
No one took into account how chaotic it would be to take all the guardians of one class… and put them into one shared living space.
Razel usually sleeps in his ship. His bed is comfortable, he hung posters on the walls, and he likes the view of the hangar through his windows just fine. Plus he’s at the Tower so rarely and for such short amounts of times it’s just not worth packing a change of clothes to move into the barracks.
But then his engine gets busted, he’s grounded for a week, and he has to find new living accommodations. So of course he gives the barracks a try.
Unfortunately, no one took into account how chaotic it would be to take all the bored, Tower-stuck Warlocks and put them into one shared living space.
The whole place is barely kept together by coffee and duct tape. When the building isn’t busy exploding or being on fire, that is. And the inside… filled with Warlocks, of course, but whoever thought that was a good idea never shared a room with a bunch of them. Either they’re running around in a research frenzy and stumbling on each others, or they’re dragging their sorry, sleep-deprived carcass from their work station to the closest source of caffeine and/or food. It’s a fun sight until you have to live in it.
It’s just… not a relaxing place to live in, at all, when you’re like Razel. That is: not interested in research or books in the slightest, and ready for a light coma after months without a full night of sleep.
(He’s more of a in-the-field kinda Warlock.
He doesn’t even last two days. The constant frantic muttering around him is driving him insane. Maybe that’s why the building keeps exploding. He sure is feeling like setting fire to some unstable chemicals right about now to blow off some steam.
For Ikora’s sake, he doesn’t, and moves into the Titans’ barracks.
They’re under Shaxx’ supervision, and it shows. The place is in a state of barely-restrained chaos. It’s fun, it’s loud, it’s never still. Guardians wrestling each others through the walls is a daily, if not hourly, occurrence. And they’re nice people — they’re friendly and extroverted, always ready to drag Razel in their fun.
But by the Light, he just wants to sleep.
(He only ever stays overnight at the Tower when he’s at the end of his rope. When his supplies run dry and even his sword is starting to show wear and tear. He just likes running around killing stuff a lot, right? He doesn’t feel the need to come back all that much. Short, regular visits are just as good.)
The Hunters’ place is his last hope before he go curl under Ikora’s desk and sleep right there. He knows Cayde sleeps in the barracks rather than in the Vanguard chambers, so he’s kinda hoping he can steal his bed and catch a nap.
Mostly he’s hoping the Hunter are, if not less rowdy, at least less fewer than the rest.
He’s lucky: apart from a handful of them playing cards in the common room, the only ones present are also sleeping. It’s blissfully quiet. He has the odd feeling night time is a different matter entirely, but fuck it. It’s three in the afternoon. It’s nap time.
The card players nod a greeting and he waves back as he stumbles through the rows of bunk beds. He hopes Cayde hasn’t moved since the last time he visited—
Here. An ace of spade carved into the bed post, because Hunters are dramatic idiots who are above name plates.
Razel doesn’t think twice about it. He drops his boots and robes in a heap next to the bed and flops face first into it. He rolls over until most of his body is somewhat under the covers, and then—
Hushed chatters and laughter isn’t exactly odd in the Hunters barracks.
Usually it isn’t centered around Cayde’s bed, though.
There’s a card game abandoned in the common room — again, unusual. Harder to hide you’re cheating when you get up in the middle of a game.
Now curious, Cayde sneaks behind his Hunters to find out what they’re giggling at.
Turns out it’s… Razel.
In his bed.
The guardian is sprawled over his mattress, one arm hanging off the side and drooling all over his pillow. His hair came undone in his sleep and it fans around his head, messy and tangled. There’s a strand caught in his mouth. The covers only cover half his body, leaving most of his back bare and— oh. oh. that’s quite a nice view.
Cayde shakes his head. Right, his bed. His Hunters. Gotta deal with that.
One of them sees him and quirks an eyebrow, throwing a meaningful look at the half-naked guardian hogging his bed. “Finally got some action, boss?”
“Oh get lost Lek.”
He pushes through the small group of onlookers and poke Razel in the cheek. He delights in the snuffling noise he makes as he wakes up, blinking owlishly.
“You’re drooling all over my sheets buddy. Shouldn’t you be in your barracks?”
Razel lets out a whine and burrows his face in the pillow. “Warlocks are the worst. And Titans are so loud.”
There’s a murmur of agreement in the assembled Hunters.
He turns his head slightly and lifts himself on his forearms, pouting. Oh no-
“Please, Cayde, just a few more hours? I’ll owe you.”
The patented Razel Puppy Eyes. That’s a low blow. The others know it, going from the chuckle that passes through them. No help from that side either. Traitors, the lot of them.
“Fine, sure, go for it. What’s a little drool between friends, after all.”
Razel immediately drops back down and mutters a thank you into the pillow. He’s asleep again in seconds.
“Shoo, you parasites. Don’t you have reports to write?”
The crowd disperse, but something tells Cayde it won’t take a day for the entire City to know about this.
Eh. Whatever. He can deal with that later.
(And if the Hunters find the two of them asleep in a pile on his small bed later on, well—
That’s not his problem. It’s his bed, after all. He can sleep in it if he wants to. Especially if he gets to use Razel as his own personal heater.)