There is is a weight upon him across the room as he turns to greet his fellow God Knight in Gunko, offering a apathetic greeting as he shifts an errant crimson lock back behind his shoulder. It burns like a pinprick on the back of his neck, a presence that cannot be ignored. Shamrock has known it all his life; looming above him, standing at his side, guiding his course as he grows to mould him into a perfect successor, an extension of will. The presence of it is suffocating even as words with Gunko come to an end and he nods an agreement to sparring, watching her slip away, refusing to allow itself to be ignored. He scans the room once before accepting his fate and finding it, the ominous void of darkened lenses laser focused upon him.
For a moment, Shamrock holds his gaze with Garling, staring at his father. It is not unlike being a specimen pinned beneath a microscope, lens bearing down upon you as a scrutinising gaze searches to unpick every secret you hold without consent. It is invasive, intentional and unrelenting. A brief flicker of hesitation flits across his expression eyes drawing away and straight back immediately as he recognises the faux pas but it is too late. He watches the corner of Garling's mouth curl, sees that expression on his Father's face change into one of victory in outwitting him and knows without a shadow of a doubt that he is known.
Dread fills his stomach like wine poured from the bottle, landing like lead and weighing him down. How careful he had been, how meticulous his plans had felt. The half anchor at his throat has been his hope and salvation, his chance for forging a better life and a chance to know what family can be, and now it is the noose that secures his fate. For a moment he thinks of those left behind. Shanks... Argentí... his niece and nephews... and the swordsman he cannot name for fear of what fate it might bring upon him. Lids descend over crimson once in a graceful acknowledgement of defeat and then he meets his father's gaze once more and offers a small nod of acknowledgement as he accepts what is to come.
There will be no explosion or outrage here, no Figarland would stoop so low as to allow shame to be seen, those were matters for behind closed doors within the family abode. And it is his punishment to wander the rest of the event wondering what is to happen to him while keeping his mask in place. He swallows once and breaks gaze turning away and allowing himself a moment to catch his breath as his fate settles. He spares one thought for the Red Force and a delusional wish to run to it but he would be caught before he arrived. Another to run to the garishly decorated clown tents for the swordsman capable of standing amongst gods but knows it is equally hopeless.
I lost... my apologies... he thinks to himself once, fingers curling around Cerberus for comfort as he thinks of all those who will worry when he doesn't appear and prays they do not find harm because of him. The wrath of his father is his to bear, and as he circles the rest of the party he takes a shuddering breath and prepares as best he can for what is to come.
@resolutepath
garling is a calculating man. he always has been, he always will be. there is a reason he commanded the holy knights for so many years. there is a reason he is now one of the five elders, replacing saturn, too weak to even take down a lower world dweller.
garling has worked for so much, for so many years, his machinations careful and ruthless and he will not tolerate any dissent in his will.
least of all from his own son, his own flesh and blood. it's bad enough his other son was lost, brainwashed by filthy pirates into thinking he is one of them. what a waste of his dna.
he will not let shamrock be another failure.
and yet- his ungrateful brat of a son seems to think he has a will of his own. seems to think that his future is anything but garling's to command, that he is anything but a pawn for garling to use as he sees fit.
he levels his gaze on shamrock, haki surging directly at gunko, just enough to give her a push. just enough to silently order her to leave. now.
the girl is smart enough to listen, abandoning her current commander at her former commander's will, leaving just the two of them to lock eyes. he has the advantage, his dark glasses hiding burning, red eyes, leaving shamrock nothing to see but his own reflection. garling, meanwhile, can strip shamrock down to his very bones with his gaze, making sure that his son knows that there is nothing he can hide from him. there are no secrets here, not under garling's nose.
"my study. one hour." the command is uttered quietly, hidden in the din of the function, so only shamrock can hear. there is no room for argument, no room for questioning. the statement is clear, even the parts unsaid: if you do not show up, everything and everyone you hold dear will suffer for it.
he could order the meeting to be now, but no, he wants shamrock to squirm. he wants him to sit in his discomfort and dread, to really ruminate in the fact that he's been found out, that his punishment will be severe. he wants him to imagine all the awful possibilities that await him. that is just the first part of his suffering that is to come.
he is standing at his desk when he hears shamrock enter, letting his haki flare in a show of intimidation when his son is in the room.
do you feel that? i am stronger than you. i command you. you are my tool, and to think you're anything but is nothing short of foolish.
he doesn't speak, just lets the haki give the message for him. he then waits for a long, tense moment, once more letting shamrock sit with that discomfort.
and then, he speaks, and the conqueror's haki lacing his words is unmistakable, and commanding in a way that is undeniable,
"tell me where you have been disappearing to, and then beg me for forgiveness."
