Gladio Amacita (
ziedrich_bearer) wrote in
revivalproject2025-02-20 10:16 am
Entry tags:
Our Home Out In Space
WHO: Gladiolus Amicitia, Open
WHERE: The Glitter Food
WHAT: Just lingering on the ship on security and orbit duty
WHEN: February
WARNINGS: N/A
I. Watchman In The Night
WHERE: The Glitter Food
WHAT: Just lingering on the ship on security and orbit duty
WHEN: February
WARNINGS: N/A
I. Watchman In The Night
They say it's lonely out in space. Not that Gladio thinks he can confirm it one way or the other. The Agrii at least seem to be a little too not lonely for their own sakes at the moment, and the space station they had been to was like that too. But now, well, he supposes he gets the vibe. Mostly the feeling had come from video games Noctis used to play in the old days. Now... Now it's something he can understand.II. Camping King
Here he sits, alone on the bridge of the Glitter Food, switching his attention between his communication pad and the large display screens before him looking into the star filled void, and gets it. With a sigh he sets the pad aside, no security flare ups needing intervention lately, and shakes his head.
"Would you hate how still it is here, Noct, or revel in it?"
His question goes unanswered, of course, save by the chiming announcing someone requesting entrance to the bridge. Which, of course, he confirms with an unthinking push of a button.
There's nothing that quite compares to camping in Gladio's opinion. It's peaceful. It's restful. It reminds him of his father and his best friends and of Noctis of course. Maybe that's why he had abandoned the room assigned to him on the ship. Instead Gladio had hauled out his camping gear and moved to the big central area. It was simple to set the thing up on the edge of the sandy shore, a tent and a fire ring and a seat. His weapon lays beside the seat, a thing of habit. No fire was in the ring, but for now this was enough. He could rest here, staring up at the starry sky through the massive overhead dome.III. Keeping Fit
In a way, he can almost fool himself into thinking it's home.
Of course, it's not. And in the minute of annoyance over remembering that he does something foolish. He grabs the hilt of his sword and with a twist and fling he throws the thing far from him. There's of course no satisfying thunk to it hitting anything. It explodes into crystals once it reaches a certain distance from him and he can feel it settling back into that waiting space in the bond to... To emptiness.
"Fuck this place. Fuck it so much."
If there is one thing he knows how to do, that he does without hesitation, it's keeping fit. Without the youths to manage for the school, without the drive to protect them being so strong, he does what he always does. Which is why anyone on the Glitter Food, visiting and crew member alike, might see him in the mornings. He runs the length of the ship, which is no small thing. He finds a tree with an ideally placed limb to do chin ups and other strength training. He moves supplies around in the cargo hold for some degree of muscle training. And, for hours every day, he goes through practice routines with his sword and with his shield.
None of it is done with single minded focus of course. That isn't his style. So when someone approaches he comes to a stop to nod, or tilts his head in a quiet invitation to join him.

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