Hey that’s a pretty neat idea !At all other times and all other days of the week, no one could guess what kind of shenanigans guardians got up to in the sealed-off hangar that takes up the fifth floor of the Tower. Who would think to check, anyhow? The elevators always pass it, and all of the staircases leading up to it, never actually reach it. The only real way to get into old abandoned hangar, is through a window from the outside. And who other than a hunter would bother, who other than a hunter would care? That’s how it started. 11:00 PM Friday, an hour before opening. The preparations start when the first few hunters arrive, who get to work right away, dragging around small crates and placing old industrial glass window panes on top of each to create tables and a bar. As other furniture is being set up and moved around, a worker tugs a rope belonging to a pulley system rigged throughout the complex, which deploys dozens of hammocks all hanging from various points around the ceilings and walls. It’s just one of the many works of visiting hunters, which like much of the other fixtures and furniture that occupy the hangar, came about from a trending community effort. The hammock tradition began with a single hunter, who brought in an armful of tarps and began tying them about so that he and his friends would have a place to sit while they drank. Before long, others began doing the same, until it became an organized effort, and improving the large space altogether became an organized effort. And now, where there once was barren space, sitting areas made from the passenger sections of an old gutted spaceships sit among a variety of donated and homemade furniture items. And while hunters have been known to make a seat out of almost anything, even the largest and most immobile of the objects scattered about the hangar have been covered in blankets or cushions to make the space feel more loved. There’s other items as well; a jukebox, some televisions with an old gaming system, and even the installed lighting system works (with a few fun modifications for dance parties). For the hunters that come here, the hanger is a work of love. It gives them a sense of community… not to mention a radical place to hang out at the end of the week.11:30 PM Friday, hunters start filtering through the openings laden with bottles and cans of alcohol. As each approach the bar with their load, the previous arrivals cheer, eager for the night to begin. Their bartenders, three different guardians that take up the responsibility happily each week, begin mixing drinks as they receive the ingredients. As more hunters enter, the atmosphere gets more lively, but the night hasn’t started– not just yet. It’s almost 12 now, and all of the guardians sit and chat with their drinks in hand, not a single sip taken, waiting. They all know who will be there to close the door when the clock strikes, already making his way from his abandoned post… when Cayde-6 hops through the window, the whole floor erupts with cheers and applause. A bottle is put in his hand as cups are raised, and thrown back in delighted rousing unison. The Vanguard himself takes a bow, and looks out over the crowd. There’s guardians sitting on the girders dangling from the ceiling, in the hammocks, up and down the gutted ships wings and fuselages, on top of stacks of old flooring and shipping crates and who-knows-what-else remaining from when the bay was in use. He allows his gaze to linger on faces and smiles, their exuberance infectious, and feels a great swell of pride. These are his hunters… right here. Just being hunters. And damn does he love just being a hunter here with them. The night goes on and hunters dance, play games, tell stories, and spend time just being the wild, reckless guardians that the exo knows and loves, until the pale reaches of morning begin to color the East-side windows. Friends supporting their drunken friends exit via their closest windows, while those who are left over remain to clean up, still chattering excitedly to each other. Cayde-6 stays until the last hunters leave, and stays a little longer, letting the silence of the hangar fill him. Then he makes his way back to the Tower again… until next Saturday.
