[The utter thrill that courses through Dion is one he's almost forgotten. There is such devotion in that word. He's used to a sort of reverence that comes with his post, but he knows what Joshua feels is far from it. There's no sense of duty or admiration for the dominant of Bahamut. He knows he can trust that whatever Joshua feels, it is for him.

Dion leans back to admire his handiwork, though his hand lingers. He scarcely remembers Joshua with a cuff like this. There had been far more to focus on during the summit, after all.

He can't help but wonder how different things might have been, if they had grown up alongside one another. He had fallen so deeply for Terence given how much time they'd spent in one another's company. Would he have done the same with both men, if given the chance?

It's a moot point, he supposes. The past could not be changed. Right now he has the present, where Joshua's hand is pressed to his. His heart skips a single beat as he glances away. He isn't embarrassed by his efforts by any means, but the idea of witnessing Joshua's reaction in real time? Terrifying.]

In a manner of speaking. I am sure you have seen that my armor is less practical in many regards, and more emblematic of my post. I simply... removed the pieces and had someone melt them down for me.