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( all glory to the cup noodle. ) (

manscaping) wrote in

banebu on July 2nd, 2018 at 10:24 am

( There's unspoken agreements between all of them - Prompto, Iris, Ignis and himself - about how this works. About signals and signs - Prompto tends to offer, Iris too, but Gladiolus trusts that Ignis will find him if he needs the assistance. So, when fingers find his elbow and then his jacket, Gladio pauses just long enough to reassure his friend that he won't simply run off, that he's ready and willing whatever, whenever.

(But surely, by now, Ignis knows that. Knows that Gladio is all but putty in his hands if he smiles right or adds the worst pun to a conversation.)

He lets out a soft huff of a chuckle, fingers brushing the hand on his arm before he starts them off towards the Leville, one of the landmarks of Lestallum which has remained mostly untouched by the way this darkness has decayed their lands. The guy at the front desk doesn't even ask what they want, simply holds out a key to Gladiolus which is snatched up quickly. They don't exactly have the luxury of choice when this place has to house every travelling hunter, fighter, even refugee in Eos. )

Here we are.

( Standing outside a door several floors up which sings out a history Gladiolus can't forget. The exact room they had the very first time they came here, when relief flooded his bones that Iris, Talcott and Hester, at least, were safe.

Then the Empire came for the Amicitia's butler, and Talcott become yet another orphan of a war which would grow into this.

But this is what they've been offered, and this is what they'll take. )

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