revivalproject | [Calibrations] My Heart Is An Armory

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[Calibrations] My Heart Is An Armory

WHO: Gladiolus Amicita, OTA
WHERE: Gladio's Calibration Room
WHAT: Calibrations
WHEN: June 10th to July 10th
WARNINGS: One possible memory set involves death of a father.

Another year, another really creepy sleep meeting. Who would have guessed it? At least Gladio's room isn't nearly as large this year as it was last year. It's still a large space though, a room made of black marble shot through with white veins, with walls of white stone accented with gold and gray. Really, there's a whole color theme going on, with nearly everything being in one of those four shades: black, white, silver, gold. Honestly, it fits well with the complex uniform of the same colors that Gladiolus was wearing as he moved through the space, inspecting the contents.

What it's definitely got a lot of contents to inspect. There is no denying that this room is an armory of sorts, the walls lined with swords, shields, armor, even guns. Many things are almost identical in appearance, many of them marked with motifs of skulls, or a figure surrounded by blades. Clearly some sort of important iconography going on, right down to the subtle repetition of it on Gladio's own uniform.

"Haven't been here in years," Gladio observed as he moved up and down the racks of weapons. He did pause as he looked through some displays though, inspecting what he found there the best he can. "Feels like an eternity."

Perhaps it had been. Some weapons, here and there, seem rusted or broken, when viewed from the corner of the eye. But that's something else, something unimportant. Don't think about it too much, it's probably better that way.

Gladio moves through the rows and racks to a table with some specific weapons laid out on it, and he pauses, looking at them. Among them are a gun suitable to a smaller hand, a sword that almost looks to have engine parts in it, a large silvery spear, and a large shield ~~cw: death of a father~~ emblazoned with an eagle. Nearby them rests a metal arm, perhaps a prosthetic.

"Haven't seen any of these in a long while either. Wonder why they're here. Don't think any of them were ever armory pieces. Personal arms never ended up in the royal stores after all."

With a sigh he turns his attention back to the stores here. "Not that the royal stores aren't good quality. Can you believe punishment duty was counting this stuff?"

[OOC: For Gladio any memory taken will results in two segments of memory playing out related to similar content. An alternative exit is to talk to interrogate Gladio about the whys of the armory, punishments, or why he'd even have access to it.]

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Except he was. He was a man in love who would surrender it.

"You have Al of me, my King, my Love. Whatever you want to see is yours."

Even if he ends up embarrassed."

Noct's hand slowly slid down Gladio's shoulder and off of it as he spoke. And here the king had been trying to show his shield respect.

Noctis himself bottled things up and tried to be strong and carry on. He recalled the very first battle, and the king had been eager. Gladio on the other hand wanted to show him how it was done.

Along their journey Noct silently took the blame for everything that happened to the guys, shouldering the guilt all by himself. He wished he was stronger so that he could protect his guys, even if at the same time he knew they wanted to protect him with their lives.

In the end, he hoped somewhere that his death repaid them for their loyal service. They were, as he'd told them, the best.

But now he just shook his head. "Then why don't you start with showing me the feelings that you hold back all the time."

"The feelings I hold back all the time?"

There had been so many. Such deep secrets held for so long. There was so much.

"There are... a lot. I have kept so much, to keep from burdening you."

Noctis gave Gladio an 'I'm waiting' sort of look as he sighed. He himself was a bottler of emotions and he knew the shield did it too. With every passing day here he was more and more grateful that he had another shot of at life even if it was still weird to have at times.

"I know." he said softly, feeling guilty regarding the other man. "But you're free here. There's no kingdom to defend, no one to hide it from anymore."

The king looked up at the shield. "And you don't need to hide it from me or even yourself."

There is no kingdom to defend, only his king and his heart. But the statement earns a nod and with a deep breath Gladio reaches up. He starts the complex task of removing the garb of the King's Shield. They were fancy clothes as any high ranking nobility might have, but also designed to be easily pushed aside or torn off in the case of battle.

That doesn't mean he's going to just tear it off. It's a slow process but he works off the cloak, the coat, the vest, everything until the skin of his chest is bare. The tattoo that marked an Amicitia heir seemed almost to stand out more than normal on his skin, the lines more vibrant, pulling as if... as if they were like any other memory object.

"My feelings are written on my skin."

And a touch would bring Noctis to them.

Noct's dark blue eyes widened as he saw Gladio taking off his garb. He was so caught up and fascinated by what he was seeing that he just swallowed hard, wondering the shield was doing.

Quietly and nervously he watched, not wanting to interrupt whatever ritual the other was attempting to accomplishment. Once the bare skin was showing, Noctis clenched his hand into a fist so that he didn't reach out to touch.

Something between shock and fascination drew the king slowly to stand directly in front of Gladio, a few mere inches away. And then he reached his now unclenched hand up and touched some of the lines, while looking up into his shield's eyes, with an unspoken question about consent lingering there.

Of course there was consent. Noctis had asked, and Gladio was freely giving. And with the touch the room around them fades. Poor Noctis was going to get treated to not one concise memory, but a rush of them. Of the night when Noctis had helped Iris and Gladio looked at him a little less angrily. Or moments before and after training sessions when Noctis was a teen where Gladio's gaze may have glided a touch improperly over his charge's form when Noctis wasn't looking. Subtle gazes across rooms during balls Gladio was serving guard duty for, or chuckles that went on just a breath too long when Noctis made a joke. Soft smiles in the tent when Noctis rolled over toward him while no one else was awake, or Gladio looking aside from his book in the back of the car to brush a bit off hair out of a napping Noctis's face.

A thousand little moments of desire and affection, all restrained, all kept away from prying eyes. All privately held in Gladio's heart. And then one more.

This one forms more fully than the others, dropping Noctis into Clarus's office at the Citadel. Regis's Shield leaned in a surprisingly casual way against his desk, something he only ever did around his son or his closest friends and never around his Prince. Gladio sat tensely on the couch in front of his father. Younger Gladio. Gladio without hints of the tattoo peeking out under his uniform.

"You are certain you wish something so large?" Clarus was asking his son. "I will admit the process can be... painful. The larger you aim for, the longer the whole thing will take."

"I want no question to ever come up about what I've sworn to," Gladio tells his father, firm commitment in his voice. "You know what people say about the Prince."

Clarus huffed, almost as if to say 'were you not the same way before you knew him well?' And a single noise like that made Gladiolus look down at his feet, clearly chided.

"There's... talk," Gladio said at last, still looking at his feet. "His advisor was chosen at such a young age and is a more or less foreigner, even though he grew up here and the Scientias have served loyally for a good while. People say that the King chose a child because he didn't expect anyone older would do the job. And we've all heard Noctis is withdrawn at school. Everyone forgets that the King and his father didn't even go to something like a private school."

Unlike Gladio. The Amicitias were sent to private school rather than being tutored like others in the nobility.

"Everyone keeps turning everything against him, even though he's trying to fit in, trying to be part of the world. If I'm seen as having anything less than utmost confidence in my role then people will have less faith in him."

Clarus sighed and shook his head. "That is a rather politically nuanced opinion, son. Did Ignis put you up to this?"

Gladio was immediately on his feet, young and fiery and bristling.

"I'm doing this because it's right for Noctis. Because I'm going to be his Shield and I'm going to protect him. And the world better see now that I'm not backing down, that I'll never let him down."

It didn't matter that even now he sometimes doubted how prepared for the throne Noctis was. He was still going to protect the young man.

"An Amicitia is a shield between their monarch and the world. And a shield works best when it's displayed. So yeah, Dad, I'm sure."

Clarus sighed, shaking his head.

"As you will. But don't expect me to fuss over you when your new tattoo starts itching everywhere."

The acceptance earns a smile and a nod from Gladio.

"You know that once you're properly marked as the Shield..."

That took the wind out of his sails. Gladiolus winced at his father's statement, at how it hung in the air between them.

"I know," he says. "But I'm standing by my decision here, dad. I won't consider marriage until after Regis abdicates for Noctis. Someone has to look out for Noct and having a wingman around doesn't hurt."

His expression said otherwise. It hurt to try and play that role for Noctis, which is why he had done it so rarely. And his father's expression said he quite understood. In fact, Clarus moved from his position to rest a hand on his son's shoulder.

"I know," Clarus says, his voice softer than normal. "With how we live our lives so closely with theirs, it's almost impossible not to come to love them. But I promise you that with time it gets easier. This is our place in their lives. The wall between them and those they love and harm."

Gladio huffed. It was easy for his father to say.

"But I'll respect your decision. I will... ensure that overtures are gracefully set aside for now. Better not to make enemies by being too rough. In the mean time, I'll set up the first appointment. Now, you better get going. Don't be late for your training session with the Prince."

And then the memory faded, leaving Gladio alone with Noctis in the armory.

Noctis was absolutely fascinated and entranced. When he had been in they crystalline cocoon he never saw any of this. And it downright boggled his mind. He saw all of the stolen glances, the tender smiles the other guys couldn't see, and the Shield kept it all tucked away, without a word to him.

Well of course, there had been the whole marriage to Luna situation and the deal with Niflheim.

Resolute, the king watched the scene play out with Clarus and he had never seen the man act or speak so casually so it was refreshing, kind of like when Cor spoke to him about the day that he was born and his father's dealings that day.

Noct noted the tension and his dark blue eyes widened as he heard the words Clarus spoke to Gladio. Had his father known how Clarus felt? Would it have made a difference somehow? He found his mind racing with so many unanswered questions, and then as soon as his mind somewhat caught up, the dream or vision was over.

Noctis then looked up at Gladio with his mouth slightly open, his mind racing with some more questions. But, they didn't matter, did they? Somehow he felt like crying and clenched his jaw in some small attempt not to do so.

It took him a moment or two, but when he thought his voice wouldn't betray him, Noctis shook his head, speaking almost like a child who was confused.

"All that time?"

"All that Time," Gladio says, his voice a whisper. "For you always."

And he knows it feels good to know that this was absolutely out between them now. "Apparently it's not uncommon for the Amicitias."

Noctis felt squishy inside and out. Half of him still wanted to hear some made up story as to why he wasn't told before but he damn well knew the reasons. All had their parts to play in the story regardless of anything else.

So his dark haired head lowered and stared at the ground feeling defeated. His hands were clenched into fists so that he could attempt to keep his emotions in check even if it felt as if they were falling apart at the seams.

Focusing on what he could focus on, the king spoke. "I wonder if my Dad knew. I wonder..if it would've made a difference."

If he was now speaking about his father or the two men present now, Noctis couldn't even answer the question.

"No," Gladio says, shaking his head. Because it's not ever going to change just who the Amicitias are and what they would be. "No I don't think it would. Dad loved you too, Noctis. If he knew where it would all end up, he'd have still agreed to your father's plans."

And it's just who they are. The fact that Gladio could break the chain to be like this was entirely the circumstances.

Noctis sighed. Somehow all of that guilt and weight remained on his shoulders. But it was a burden he willingly carried because so many gave their life for him and in the name of what he would do and become.

Deep down he knew it could've all been another heir along the way, but Noctis was the one who'd been chosen by the crystal.

"I'm sure he knows by now how your Dad felt." And the pain of guilt still ran deep at hearing that Gladio's dad loved him. "Since you've been here, have you tried to talk to him at all? Your Dad I mean. Do you think he can hear you or see what's going on?"

Tried to talk to them? Gladio grimaces and looks past Noctis toward the door that has appeared. A way out. One he can't take. But his king and love has asked, so he finds he must answer.

"No. I never tried, after... after. Lingering on is something for your family, and that of the Oracles. Not for Shields."

Well, except for Gilgamesh, but whatever, he doesn't count.

The king sighed. He didn't even know if that was possible even for him here. But he thought he might try anyhow. Here he wasn't really dead, and he wasn't sure how all of that worked.

He quietly spoke to his own father from time to time as had been custom on Eos. And he only got to see him for a few moments, especially as his father's sword plunged into his chest.

"Fair enough." the king replied, in his usual quiet tone. But his eyes had followed the Shield's gaze and looked at Gladio. "Do you want me to go?"

"Only if you promise to come find me when you wake," Gladio says with a warm smile. "Maybe I want to make sure you see all the ways I love you."

Was he going to use a chair to keep his room door closed and maybe be a bit more physically attentive in his affections? Yeah. Working out could wait until later.

His mind just flew out the window at hearing such an open declaration like that so he blushed a little. "You'll be the first person I look for."

As if Gladio wouldn't ever be.

"I'll get going then and I'll see you later."

Gladio smiles and nods at him.

"Yeah. I'll look forward to it, my King, my Love."

Noctis had started to go when he heard those words and turned around a moment.

He really wanted to stay but knew it was better to get out of this place.

"I'm going to have you repeat those words."

And slowly he forced himself to get out of there.

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[Calibrations] My Heart Is An Armory

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