stop { BITCHING } & start K I L L I N G.

               ❝ Gladiolus, ❞ he allots a minuscule sigh ; descending those tense shoulders in a motion of surrender. ❝ Very well, ❞ both survivors of the fallen capital are well-aware of the dire straits in their current situation. Even so, it is impossible to sway the sworn shield’s perspective ; the moment he ‘ got a thought in his head, ’ it took a rather vehement sequence of arguments to shake him off his blind companion’s trail. The earthen soil quakes underneath their boots ; as their mutual wrath & disagreements can cause various tremors to partition anew in an already disjointed world of ruination. But in conclusion, both only ever attempted to ‘ utilize ’ their chosen path. To sacrifice ; to give & unto love to their companion—- compromise is a necessity.

               ❝ Old times, huh—-? ❞ They were much younger then, an amassed pile of bones & too thin skin spread across an enfeebled skeleton. ❝ You’d never accompany me to partake in a little clean up, we both know you’d only complain. ❞ Gladiolus chose to participate in chores due to a mutual respect. Granted, he hadn’t ever inquired as to why that was ; it’s almost as though an unspoken oath is written into their blood & twined in their muscle memories. Sometimes, he can sense the swordsman’s advance ( even before the strategist was in any imminent danger ) or tear a specific mark down prior to his own dual strike. ❝ Though, since you’ve so graciously insisted. ❞ The brunet places an archaic map ( a swatch of faded ink & yellowed parchment ) into the callous palm ; pausing as their fingertips brushed a moment longer than necessary. 

        he awaits patiently for the denial he only assumes is coming. this was of course the same old song and dance the two of them always fell into. gladiolus’s constant need to protect those who are left to him, and ignis’s own desire to prove he can walk along side his companions without struggle. he understands that desire. if he was in the former strategist’s position he would feel the same about his predicament. ignis was never one that wasn’t able to make due. he spent his days in the darkness proving his worth, but to gladio he never lost it. the blind man was a different breed than what he used to be during their days in the light. they both were. when the denial for his accompaniment of the other never comes, gladiolus spares a grin to his lips.

       “It was only you who never complained about a little extra clean up,” he manages to spare a teasing tone to his voice, different than the gruff bass that normally leaves his lips. gladiolus was never certain if ignis ever picked up on the reason behind his tagging along after him when it came to chores. it wasn’t uncommon for the shield to accompany his friend on shopping trips during their younger years in the crown city. his complaints came natural during the events though none of them ever held much truth behind them. ignis always helped ease the hole that was left inside him when his family had fallen apart. even now in this world shrouded in darkness, gladiolus still felt the same.

              ❝ Such a worrywart, ❞ he teased ; no insinuation behind the quip as the scarred brunet took his time to touch atop the swordsman’s callous knuckles. ❝ I do appreciate the concern, Gladiolus. ❞ Even though the goliath of a man might be needed elsewhere. It is common that whence the brunet received a hunt or scavenge request from headquarters that the other made himself predominantly present. No matter the other’s insinuation about how ‘ the darkness is more his friend, ’ more-so in comparison to anyone else ; the sightless have an irrefutable edge. He’s embraced this newfound part of himself, rather than heedlessly lament over all that’s been lost. Therein lies the difference ; as much as his companion is supportive——- he cannot say that there is a mutual trust placed in their respective roles. Or at least in the aspect that the bulky swordsman was inwardly repressing a malignant fear that the ex-advisor won’t return in one piece—-? He cannot always be expected to come rushing to the disabled man’s aid. ❝ But we both know that a man of your talent is desperately needed elsewhere, ❞ to save your friend, or to curb the hoard so that other innocents may live ; these decisions aren’t exactly easy to make. 

@swcrdlily· || cont.

    “They can spare me for the time being,” if only that were really true. in this darkness no one could be spared from their proper posts. daemons were spawning every second and the massive hoard that lay waste beyond the safety of their base was ever growing. it was no easy task being given the chore of guardian to the innocent. the three companions each had taken the proper step into their role after the loss of their future king. the darkness had brought out the best in them, and sometimes maybe even the worst. but old habits died hard with gladiolus and he was the most stubborn out of all of them. it was not an easy thing to step away from the role of shield. it was difficult to keep from wanting to put himself in the line of fire over those he cared for. ignis, however, was always the one to remind him of what his new found role truly was. in the dark he had moved his place from shield to leader, helping wrangle what groups of hunters they had left, and setting forth plans when he can, “come on. it will just be like old times taking out monsters in the dark.”

    “Huh?”  He hadn’t realized he had dozed off, the sound of the rain against the windows were relaxing enough to lull him into an unwanted sleep. He had been sitting in the arm chair, book in hand, getting lost in the story that was written within the book’s pages. Now the book was discarded on the floor, much to his dismay. Gladio must have been more tired than he had originally realized. 

   Lifting a hand to his eye he rubs sleep from it, a tired smile crossing his lips.

    Now isn’t that his line? When it came to sleep the Prince and the Prince’s shield were complete opposites. Noctis could sleep the day and night away whereas Gladio only ever managed to capture a few hours each night. It had only gotten worse since the fall of Insomnia, and the loss of everything they held dear. Sleep had no longer become a priority for him. It was common to find him sitting up late at night keeping the fire outside their tent alive. It was one of the reasons he preferred to camp so much. At least this way he could get away with being up until the sun started to rise without questioning looks or disturbing his companions. 

   But this night it seemed he was going to have company whether he liked it or not. Gladio passed his hand over the empty chair beside him, inviting his charge to take join him. He was never the sentimental type, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to offer comfort when he could. 

  “Y’wanna talk about it?” He raises a scarred brow turning his full attention towards Noctis. Gladiolus could probably guess the answer before it ever reaches the princeling’s lips. Neither of them are very good at talking things out. Both would rather keep their emotions to themselves despite how unhealthy it was. Still, the offer was there should Noctis decide to take it. 

      “Save the emo I stand alone crap for someone who cares to listen to it.”

It’s not his job to protect him? With Noctis gone, who the hell else is he supposed to be looking out for? This kid just happened to cross his path, and Gladiolus took to him like a duck to water. The similarities between the silver haired boy and Gladio’s lost prince were uncanny. But just like with Noctis, Gladiolus has not patience for Nero’s bullshit. Saving him from the line of fire was just instinct, and as long as he was able he’d do it over and over again.

He’s lost enough as it is, he’s not going to let anything else be stolen from him. 

   “Now shut up and get on your feet kid,” Fingers tighten around the hilt of his great sword, “we’re cutting our way through and getting the hell out of this place.”