From Destinypedia, the Destiny wiki
The unofficial Hunter Vanguard. Only because nobody else would do the paperwork.
Salutations. My name is J.P., a Hunter and self-titled scholar.
While I may be a Hunter, I distinguish myself from many of my peers by my motives. My forays beyond the City walls
are not for the purpose of satisfying some form of wanderlust (most of the time), but instead for discovering knowledge
that has become lost to us, so that it may see usage by humanity once again.
While Warlocks and Cryptarchs sort their libraries and archives, I'll be digging through the ruins of humanity's past,
searching for things to add to the pile of
shit stuff they need to sort through. If I'm not digging up another man's
treasure, I'm busy making my own. If I'm not out on a mission, you'll likely find me in the hangar, sequestered in my
own little corner, working on one of my many projects.
Had to assemble a set of my own power tools though, as Ms. Holiday no longer lets me near hers as a result of one of
my more recent projects. How should I have known that the cleaning robots from the Arcology would go crazy after
attaching guns to them?
Its name is "Shooty" by the way.
Warning: data corrupted. Would you like to recover this file? y/n...
[Static]...obably d̷e̴l̷e̵t̷e̸ ̷t̴h̴i̶s̶ recording l̴̠̼̑̃͌a̵͎͗t̶̼͙̝͑̌̚e̵̜͐͘̕r̶̢̨̭̝͂́͆͌ anyways. [Sigh]... Plenty of forums on the Net saying how
e̶͖̿x̴̬̍t̴̩̋e̴̟̋r̸̹͒n̸̮̑ą̴͆l̵̩̏i̵̹͐z̸͈͑ȋ̸̬n̶͇̚g̷̓͜ ̵̥͝c̷͔̀a̶̙͝n̷̺̕ ̵͔͠h̷̩̏e̵̜̚l̴͉̎p̷̺̎ you deal ̸w̸i̸t̶h̷ ̵e̸v̸e̵n̶t̸s̴,̸ ̴e̴v̶e̶n̷ ̶i̷f̵ ̴i̵t̴'̸s̷ talking to yourself. Figured I might as well try.
Sent Hun to go c̸o̷l̴l̸e̷c̴t̶ ̸s̵o̸m̸e̸ ̴r̵e̸p̸o̴r̶t̴s̴ for me, so I w̸o̴n̷'̶t̸ ̵h̶a̵v̶e̶ ̵a̸n̸y̴ ̸G̷h̵o̵s̴t̶l̸y̷ listeners either. Cause I know she
I t̴̜̊ȟ̶͉ȏ̴̝͠û̸͓ḡ̷͓͑h̷͔͒̈́t̴̹̫͝ ̵̘̂p̵̝̮̾̏u̸̗̍̚t̴͚̊͌t̴͔̲̊i̸̮͕͛ǹ̸̛͇g̷͇̈́ one through Ş̷̡̜̙̫̟̥̝̖̗̹͒̀̓̑̓͑̏̈́̑̑͐̋̔̐̀̚͜͜͝͝ͅȍ̴̢͓̦͈̰̰̓́̋͒͠v̴̛̦̳̼̯̅̀͌̾̀́̌͂̄͐̐̀̈́̚'̸̥͔̖͓̱͕̞̐͐̇̀̒̑̏̓͋̿̑̍̓̕͘͘s̷̡̛̼̯̳͈͉͉̞̈́̌͌̇̒́͋ ̸̧̨͇̬̦̹̼̠̣̭̦͚̤̹͎͉̩̽̋͆h̴̨̯̺̞̬̪̼̥͎̱̰̫̩̥̓̎̍̿̀̑̓̀͗̅̕̚̕̕ë̶̛͙͓̤̜͉̥̘̞̺̜͓́̅̒̊̒̈́͊̊͊̈́̈́͘a̵̡̮̥̟͍͉̝̟̖̋̉͊̀̅͘d̵̛̙̦̖̰̺̫̭͛̋͌̿͋̎͆̔̊̇͘̕̕ would f̶̞̈́̐e̷͓͉͛̾ḛ̷̿̾͜l̸̡̊̊ ̴͚̅͊͜p̵̱̅r̸̹̂e̶̗͉̓̀t̴͎͕̔͋t̴̗̜̋y̸͈̽͠ ̵̩̝̓̒ŝ̶̻͈ã̶̻̼̌t̵̥̻͑i̴͔͑̒s̴͓̘̈͛f̴̌ͅỹ̵̜̍į̵̳̿n̸̹̓͜g̵̯̟͒͋.̶̜͂̋ Got ç̶̹͓̦͓͈̉̊̈́̋̂͑ẖ̸̾é̷̢͉̣̬̰̟̗̐̓̓̋̎a̸̧̙̜͍̼͔͌̒͛́͆́̕t̶͖̮̜̮̗̓̊͒͠͠é̶̥̹́͘d̶̡̨̥̰̣̣͉͂̏͂ ̶͖̯͈̝̹͊͛̽͊̽͌ö̸̲́̋́̍̈́͑n̷̤̻̩͉̳̮͂̌ ̶͔̣̜̥̭̟̘̎͐͊̀t̴̞̭̤̖̻̬̠͒̊̊̌̐͝͠h̸̙̘̏̎͊̋̀͗ạ̷̹͔̜̗̒̔͐ţ̴̥̣̀̂̃͒̉͐̏, that's for sure.
R̴e̷f̴l̸e̸c̵t̵i̸n̵g̸ ̷o̶n̴ ̶t̷h̶a̶t̷ ̵m̵o̶m̵e̶n̶t̸- I got chills when I realized it, but t̴h̷e̷ ̵w̵a̸y̶ ̴I̶ ̴s̷t̸o̵o̷d̷ ̶over him, Ace in h̴̨̉â̴̝n̴̯̉d̵̙͘,̸̟̌ ̴̳̔h̶͍͊ă̵̟v̴̫̓ĭ̵͙n̴̢̒ǵ̶͙ ̷͎̚h̴̘̆ǐ̵̥m̸̧͝
dead to rights. I di̴̪͒d̶͈̿ ̵̧̌ť̵̘o̷̭̿ ̴̪͘ḥ̵̇i̸͔͋m̵̬͆ ̶̥̎w̵̭̓h̶̜͝a̸͍͋ṯ̴͂ ̵̖̽h̷̭́e̸̼̕ ̵̠͆did to Cayde.. Didn't s̷̥͊e̴̻͑e̵̗͂ ̵͎͘i̸̥͝t̷̢͗ ̷̒ͅm̵̗̄y̶͓͝s̶̝͐e̷̦͌l̶͇̆f̵̣͒ ̵̡͐c̵̠̈́a̸̬̎u̴̫͘s̷̱̋e̸͛͜ ̵̖̿I̶̹͋ ̶̼̆g̶̖͗ȍ̶͖t̶̡̐ ̴̦̊t̶̙̏h̶̘́ẽ̸͓ṟ̶̍e̷̺͑ ̶̢̆t̸̎͜o̷̡͌o̶̫̔ late... but I-
[Sigh] just dammit.
Cayde would probably be laughing at me h̸a̵v̵i̷n̶g̵ ̶s̸e̴t̴t̴l̶e̴d̴ ̶̳̂ĩ̸̺n̴̖̎t̶̰͗ö̴̙́ ̵̯̈t̶͈̂ḫ̸͠e̵̹͌ ̵̝͌d̷̞́ȩ̶͆s̵̗̀k̷̠̚ ̸̕͜j̷̫̔o̴͉͑b̴͈̓ ̸̖́̀p̴̢̀a̶̱̘͌r̴̹͓̈t̸̯͈͊̎ ̸͎̐́ō̴̧̐f̵̱̓̈ ̷̞͘ṱ̷̭̕h̵͍̠̃i̴͙͖̿̄s̶͕̏ ̴̖̯͐ǵ̷̬̞i̵͎̊͝ğ̵̣.̶̿͜ ̸̛͕̯B̷͇̈͠ú̷̡͘t̸̬͂ ̴̥̎̋w̷͚͉̰̥̿͂̚e̷͍̍ľ̶͉̤̻̣́͋͘ĺ̸̼͚͍̰̿̈́͘,̴̡͍̯̌̀ ̸̞̮͍̝͗ņ̴̜͔̊͂̒ò̴̢̏̈́̃b̸̡͔͚̕o̵͕̻̩̓̏d̴̰̬͋̓́͠ẙ̷͙̜͙͔̏ ̴͖̠̯̅̽͠e̶̠̼̙͂l̸̺̙͉̥̓͐̒̊s̶̭̮̘̦̀̃̄ě̵̱͇̊͠
w̶̭̜̒̌o̷̲͌ŭ̷͈̖̼̗̍͘̕ĺ̷̉͆̎͜͝d̴̦̆̃̎̒̾ ̸̣̈̏d̴̝͋̌̃͐ö̴̬ ̷͖̰͕͚͌̎́̓̚į̷͈͍̾͒͐̔͊t̶̲̳̙̋̾̈́̎,̵̧̝̂͋̐̚ ̴̹̈́̈̈́͝a̴̡̾̈̒́͠ǹ̶̢͇͎d̸̨̋͋́͠ i̵̡̨͚̟̤͗̈́̃̽͘͜t̴̢͝'̷̨͚̲̘͎̫́ͅs̴̮̓̈́̈́ ̸̥̄̔̿t̴̩͛ȏ̵͇͑͝͝o̵̳̽̓ ̵̝̬̰̍͑ȉ̸̧̲̘m̴̡̱̅p̸̘̽̑̓͊ͅơ̷̢̝̻̭̓̈̍̚͜rt̷̹̲̮̣̫̙̏̈́̔̇̉ͅa̷̳͎͕͒ͅñ̵̰͓͂̕͝t̸̼̫͖͔̄́̂̐̀̋͐ ̴̹̞̤͍̀́̊̅̉̎̚t̵͉͖̊̃́o̴̜͕̜̟̠̘͑̋̊̋̿͝ ̵̪́͊͂͒́̚̚ñ̷͇̩̤̩̫̫̂͛̉͘̚o̶͉̥̤͙̬̟̔̇͝ͅt̴̨̧͈̍ ̶̝͌̅̊͂͛̉h̵̨̩̠̞͙̼͙́̑͒̇å̷̡͔̤͎͔̆̈́͠v̷̬̻͂̈́ͅe̷̤͚͍͒̂̌ ̷̧̟̙͓̞̫̼͊͂͌̎̆d̷̝͔̫̳̃̊̆͐͂ǫ̵̨̥̬̀̉̄̎͝n̶̨̠̻̯̪̱̑̿͂ͅȅ̵̛̯̯̼͇̭͍̄͐͝͠ͅ,̶͔̣̱̣̹̟̏ ̵̱̻̤͓̄̋͑̃͊̏̈́̑͠ͅs̵̪̻̱͔̭̞̼̲̭̀̐́͐͛͠ő̶̝̪̝̈́̎͌͝ͅ ̶̨̺̣͕̋̉̾̇͒͐̓Į̴̹̝̮̲̠̈́̏̅̒̓̇̀̅̊̃ ̶̛͇̲̲̩̼̙̤̫̦͒̏̇̓ṃ̸̮̝̠̠̮̜̒̒̀͒̒̊͝ͅì̶̏͜͝g̴̙̼̙͈̟͓̪̯͆́̍̉̀͌̎̀̅h̴̼̖̲̺̓̆̈̅͛͆̕t̸̨̯̐͊̈̇̎ ̴̡̲̭̥̬͌a̶̹͇̍͂͆͋͑̍͝ͅͅs̶̛͈̪̳̼͐̉͐̀̓̾̀͗ ̶̢̧̬̣̪̱̗͇̬͎̈́̀̏̾̂̔̌̔̚w̸̨͌̑̾͌̕e̷̢̨̛̹̦̼͚̪͚̗͂̄̅̆͐̈́́͘͝l̷̨͇̩͓͖̽̚͝l̴̛̤͕̘͆͌͂̈́̍̅̒͂̂ ̷̱̮̗̮̣̖̱̙͈̅̓͌̔̐̽͊̉͜͝ͅf̴̻̲̯̣̖̩̯̗̿̈͑̈͆̏̾́̕͠ỉ̸̢̨̱̰̠̟̌̇̈́̌̔̑̀̃̈́̚̚l̴̞͙͉̝̟͓̠͙̇͛̐͌̇͗̿̏̂̕͜͝l̶̗͚̗̱͍̗͇͇̺͆̃̽̅̎̈͘͝ ̴̻̪͓̼͍́̇̈́͊̑̆̏͝͝t̶̡̠̖̙̤̹̜͈̲̭̥́̑̅̓̊̇̃̂͊͊̋̓̚h̴͍̝̖͇̫̼̉̾̅̿͒̓̂̅̂͝e̸̳͇̭̗̪̭̼͓̖̜̥̤͛̚͜͝͝ͅ ̸̘̜͚̪̬̤̙̹͖̠̮̱̮̒͌͊̈͂͑͐͊̌͑̚̕͜p̷̻̯̦̼̯̱̳̣̹̖̅̀̀͂̈́̇̈̒̔͌̆ǫ̵̪̮̤̗͎̪̦͖̈́̒͊͑͘͝s̸̡̧͇͝i̸̗͇̻͎̾͂̂̂̐̕͝ͅṭ̴̤̫̇̊͐̔̔̔̈̊̕͠i̵̧͇̼͍̍̿͗ṑ̴͎̥̯̯͐̓͛̇͌̚n̶̞͓̩͎̬̺̬̝͍̫̪̳̗̫̍̈́̈́ ̶͉̠̳̣̈́f̶͕̬̟̖̪͈̩̬̔͋̿͝͠͝o̵̧͎͖̖͖̩̮̣͐̊̕͜ȓ̶̛̞̫̠̠̥̜̮̖̯̫̺̋͛̔̈͐̎̈́͒̊̓̚̕ͅ ̴̬̯̮̯̈́́̓̍̚͝ͅn̶̥̞̽̀͝ỏ̶̬̭̻͎̪̬̥̦͎̻̓͆̽͒̽̓̌̑̔͗̓ͅͅw̷̹̗̼͔̾̒̄͛̀́̔̒͋̾̕͝.̶̢͕̥͍̼̱͙̳͔̳̼̙̏̆̐̌͐̒̂͒̎͑̀̕͝
Warning: data corrupted. Further file recovery unavailable.
With the loss of several planets and their moons as a result of the Darkness, I knew grim times were ahead.
What I wasn't prepared for was the loss of the Arcology on Titan. I was desolate. But my mood uplifted when
I entered the Exoscience facility upon Europa.
Present, in large quantities, were cleaning robots. Many of them, all of them pristine, untouched by the
passage of time. I mean, everything else was important, but dammit I wanted more of those bots, because
the ones I had collected from the Arcology were used for a prior project- the one that led to Ms. Holiday
banning me from using her power tools. But basically, the ones I had could no longer fulfill their original
Now, you might be asking, "why don't you just use ones manufactured in the City?" Because, my unaware friend,
the suction on those are garbage. Not to mention they handle liquids poorly. These ones? BrayTech design
and manufacture? Top tier. Next to SIVA, Exos, and the Warmind, the cleaning robots are right up there with the
best things produced by BrayTech. Hell, better than Rasputin because they don't inexplicably give up and shut
down when they encounter an insurmountable task. [Cough] Yeah, note to self, encrypt this specific log entry
because Ana would totally kill me for trash-talking her beloved Warmind.
Cause I feel like tooting my own horn.
- Mysterious Logbook - Transcription and Formatting.
- Lectern of Enchantment - Page creation.
- Contact - First page overhaul.
Images which I myself have taken.
Weapons and Armour
Lectern of Enchantment
Tree of Silver Wings
Contact Public Event