✍️ Write based on the line prompt above

It was early in the morning, the light from the sun shining through the curtains in Remi’s room as he groaned loudly before slowly sitting up and stretching his arms out in front of him as his gaze was just starting to focus. The young male glanced over at his alarm clock that flashed 12:30PM in red bold numbers, then proceeded to throw his legs over the edge of his bed and get up as a soft yawn escaped past his lips.

Normally Remi would go to the bathroom, but since he shared a bathroom with one of his friends he lived with, Emerson, he decided not to as she would be taking her afternoon shower and she was known for taking long showers. Instead he made his way downstairs, trying not to trip over his own feet as he was still half asleep but ended up tripping and fell down the stairs at the halfway mark, landing at the bottom with a big thud.

“Are you okay?” A voice, along with a face popped into his view, it was Shiloh who was looking down at him, and who had asked the question then the other male extended a hand to help the other up. Remi took Shiloh’s hand, and stood up as he nodded his head as he chuckled softly, “Yeah, just tripped over my own feet. Thanks for the hand up”

With nothing but a nod, Shiloh made his way up the stairs, a plate of some type of food in his other hand as he hummed softly to himself before he disappeared into his room, never to be seen again until later tonight. 

Remi cleared his throat, and dusted himself off and then made his way to the dining table, sliding into a chair across from another friend he lived with who went by the name Sawyer. “Morning, Remi!” A different voice called, and Remi looked in the kitchen where the last friend was, Lucille, was at the stove making something to eat but Remi couldn’t tell what.

“Morning!” The male replied, then looked over at Sawyer then the plate in front of them that had a sandwich on top of it that had looked untouched as it didn’t have a bite or anything taken out of it. Then his stomach growled, signaling he was hungry, then cleared his throat once more.

“Hey, are you going to eat that?” Remi spoke directly to Sawyer, pointing to the sandwich as he was hungry and didn’t feel like making himself some food and the food on the plate was untouched and was going to end up in the bin if someone didn’t eat it, so it wouldn’t be a waste.

Sawyer raised their head as they had it down laying on the table while they used their phone, then shook it before lifting a hand to shove it in Remi’s direction before lowering their head once more and went back to playing on their phone. “Thank you!” Remi beamed, although Sawyer couldn’t see it as their head was back down on the table, but they grunted out in response as to say ‘You are welcome’

Thankful for having such amazing friends, Remi grabbed the sandwich and basically inhaled it before sighing softly, then proceeded to melt into the dining table chair as he started to doze off into a daydream as he was now full even though it was no more than just a sandwich.

"What do you miss most?"

Dorian turns abruptly in the dimness. "Me?"

Curia smirks back, pulling one foot up onto the drystack. "Who else?"

Beyond their vantage on the wall, ancient insects creak in the night. The barren plains are a dull mirror of the moonlight, sprawled on every side of them.

Dorian could never forget any of this, no matter the years he spends away. He wasn't expecting to return to his homeland so soon—barely two years since he left—but here he is, brought by new duties, the same duties that are soon to take him away.

Yet, already, there is an awkwardness to the way his heart nestles itself here—a subtle foreignness to everything that tells him he will never be a man of Tyse again. Not now, now that he's severed that thread and given it forever to the keeping of the Duchess of Diamonds.

"It would be easier to say what I don't miss," Dorian finally answers, folding his arms as his eyes cross the unchanged stars. "I miss the very scent of the air. The burning of the wind on my skin. The taste of urana leaves."

Curia takes this all in with a thoughtful nod, a mellow smile. "I've forgotten how urana tastes like, you know," she replies. "It's always the small things. And you think you could never forget them, how precious they are, but time always comes out the victor. Scrubs everything away, bit by bit."

As Dorian listens and gazes upon the scout commander's face, crow's feet in the corners of her eyes and greying hair in six braids, he feels as if he were seeing the future.

Thirty years surviving. Thirty years on the move. Thirty years carving spaces for herself in worlds she's never known before. That's the life in store for him, and she has already lived it.

"I don't know if it's naive of me to hope," he admits then, glancing down at the sleeping Duchess in the camp. "And I don't know where this journey is taking us...but the next time we meet, wherever that is, we should find you some urana salad."

Curia seems baffled, then amused, almost as if she were shaping a retort on her tongue.

But instead she offers a grin and says, "Yes, I'd like that very much."

Prompt: "That's not supposed to happen."

The Grand Vefour was an establishment with a reputation well deserved. With a twenty-five or so years of activity and excellent cuisine, unsurprising was its regular clientele or the quality of the latter. Prosper was fond of the place, truly, though if he were asked for his opinion on the matter he would undoubtedly answer that Maison Marchet was another league on its own but such biased concern was most surely the uncle-nephew relationship he shares with the head chef.

Today however, he was initially invited to eat out by Théophile. Needless to say, Prosper was full of doubt, expecting another tasteless joke from his brother but curiously, Théophile was genuine in offering to treat him to lunch and just as curiously, he accepted. Their little exchange was caught by their sister Lottie who clamored to be brought along with her Twin, Louis. Eventually, all the siblings but Rose and Anne followed Théophile to the Grand Vefour. 

Prosper found the place just as exquisite as he remembered, and he couldn't help asking his uncle for forgiveness in his mind because of their disloyalty to his own restaurant. In a way, the blame could be thrown onto Théophile's head. 

Seated in a less conspicuous corner with their ears stuffed by sounds of chatting and clinking tableware, they were assisted in their orders by an ever so polite waiter until they only had to wait for the dishes to arrive. Everything appeared quite normal, an outing with his siblings, sharing a meal with them on a fine day and possibly taking a walk by the Seine before going home. Yet, Prosper's Théophile-is-up-to-no good-senses immediately triggered when he noticed the red-head's shifty gaze. Though he seemed pretty involved in their conversation so far (Lottie's sword training was a pride, and they were indeed eager to encourage her), Théophile had yet to stop throwing glances towards the entrance. 

Prosper wasn't the only one to notice.

"You have been looking at the door for a while, what is it?" Lottie craned her neck up trying to see whatever caught her brother's attention "There's nothing there!"

Théophile visibly flinched and Louis put down the glass of water he was about to take a sip from, his eyes squinting doubtfully "What did you do?"

Prosper knew something was off and like the twins, prompted his brother for an explanation "Out with it. What have you done?"

The red-headed teenager clicked his tongue rudely and grinned, "Waiting for someone obviously."

Lottie frowned, obviously perplexed and eyed Prosper who only responded with a shake of his head. He didn't know anything.

Thirty minutes went by, a few of their orders already arranged on their table but still no one in sight whom Théophile could be waiting for. Louis may look composed, but his impatience was the greatest among them and with a glare, he demanded that Théophile explained himself instead of ruining his appetite.

Théophile only laughed and joked that if he did, his appetite would be ruined for the next few days in lieu of a measly few hours. "Look, you and Lottie were the ones who tagged along! I don't recall inviting at all!"

"You mean you would just treat Gab for lunch and leave us at home?" whined Lottie

"Well, I just wanted to have lunch with good ol' Gabby here, haven't seen his face for a while."

Prosper grunted "I had dinner at home yesterday and breakfast this morning. Just what is your problem?"

"Well," Théophile leaned back on his chair, "I went to this salon Michel introduced me to–"

"Okay, that's worse than I thought." commented Louis

"–and we were discussing chivalry and courtly love for a while, you know I thought it'd be fun to exchange some letters to pass time and Michel told me about a friend of his who'd be interested and here I am!"

Prosper looked suspiciously at his brother, "You? Courtly love?" he scoffed "You should take an interest in some respect and propriety first."

The red-head dramatically gasped, as always, and remained on the lookout for that mysterious 'friend'. Prosper wasn't quite sure why his brother wanted to drag him into this in the first place, he was perfectly able to take care of himself unless he was purposeful in his gaffes–which was more often than not. Théophile was by not means easy to influence and if one claimed he was candid, Prosper would have no qualms in scoffing at their face no matter how inappropriate it was.

"Whoa–" cringed Théophile as he noticed a woman waving at him from the entrance "–haha, oh no no no, that's not supposed to happen–that bastard Michel–"

Prosper looked over and his eyes grew wide at the sigh of the newcomer. "Isn't that...Madame Massevie? Seigneur, Théophile, what in damnation–"

"No idea, I swear! I didn't know!" he replied, none of his usual charming cool left as he tried to make himself small. Théophile noticed Lottie and Louis looking at him strangely, confusion written all over their faces.

The woman in question seemed pretty eager to meet him but was perplexed and disappointed at the sight of his company, her disappointment soon turned to amusement once Prosper noticed the flash of recognition in her eyes once she got closer. She was a lady around forty-five, beautiful to say the least and elegantly dressed. She was quite famous among nobles and a cheerful lady, easy to get along with though Prosper and Théophile only met her a few times through their mother. Madame Massavie was widowed for a decade and raised two children of her own and with her freedom, she enjoyed sharing her bed with people she was attracted to from time to time (often enough that it was widely known but not especially cared about). 

"If it isn't Théophile-Roland and the mini-Rosiaires!" she laughed once she reached their table. Madame Massevie gestured for a waiter to bring an additional chair and sat down, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh dear, and your mother who was lamenting your lack of interest in the arts. You are quite well versed in old legends and chivalrous texts, aren't you?"

Prosper gritted his teeth as he murmured to his brother "You are an embarrassment to this family."

Madame Massevie cheerfully enjoyed the crumbling expression on Théophile's face and the look of resignation on Prosper's. 

"I wonder what–"

"Please, I beg of you Madame, don't tell my mother–the moment she knows my father won't be far from getting the news and I won't stand from allowing him any sort of leverage to make fun of me." pleaded Théophile "To apologize, allow me to treat to you lunch as well."

"That's a given," chuckled Madame Massevie, "you wouldn't think I would have let you flee like this."

In the end, Prosper didn't care much about one of Théophile's few unintentional blunders, he only cared about eating his fill without paying out of his own pocket for once. 

Mango was sitting in Ccrino's house, it was kind of boring but at least it wasn't cat-filled like his old house. Ccrino came running in, yelling "MANGO MANGO!! A FAN KISSED ME!"

Mango's tentacles shot up from the sentence. "What-?" She asked. She wasn't jealous, obviously. Maybe. She didn't like Ccrino, of course she didn't. He was just a simple cute baker who's obsessed with cats and has an adorable smile. ....maybe she is jealous.

"Yea!!" Ccrino says. Mango didn't realize, but her tentacles were practically flailing in anger. "Who..?" She asked. Ccrino smiled. "I'll go get them!"

He ran out of the room, leaving Mango alone to think about what just happened. He then came back holding an electric fan. "This one! They kissed me, Mango!! My first kiss, gone! Ruined!"

The two sat in silence. After a while, Ccrino burst out laughing. Mango wanted to strangle him so badly. "Remind me why I hang out with you again.."

"I know you're dumb, but geez..."

Renee cover in blushing face and facing away from T.D. in pure embarrassment.

Like a dragon, T.D. was coughing up and nearly breathing fire. She had accidentally set a restaurant on fire. Again. Even though she was a fire mage, she couldn't hand eating anything spicy. A jalapeno would give her mouth a little smoke. A habanero would give her a nice fireball. But she had to try the carolina reaper wings, which she knew was way over her spice limit. She was helpless spewing fire from her whole mouth rolling around the floor in pain and agony from the heat of the wings. But she knew she'd have to buy them again.

"No, don't eat that!" Vox said, trying to pry a dirty floor cheeto out of the redheaded toddler's grasp. She was so relieved that her siblings were all old enough to finally enter school, but unfortunately she needed some cash if she wanted to leave this hellhole behind her- and that means putting those childcare skilled that were forced onto her to good use. And the woman a few blocks down was a struggling single mother who was able to get start working thanks to Vox's assistance.

The kid's name is Reign- and yeah, fitting for the little hellion creating a reign of terror for his poor babysitter to chase after him. Then again, he was really no different from other toddlers in that sense- and unfortunately, Vox has had to raise 6 because her parents couldn't be assed to. And she wasn't even sure if they were really DONE having kids yet- all the more reason for her to hurry up and get out of dodge.

But finally, the seemingly endless supply of energy kids somehow magically have stored in them finally seemed to die out and little Reign conked out on the couch while sitting next to her. "Long day, huh?" Vox yawned. "Yeah, I'm pretty tired too..." And within minutes, Vox too fell asleep. This is what she gets for not drinking a coffee in the morning, she supposes.

Reign's mother returned home from work soon after, noticing the two sleeping kids, covering them with a blanket. "Might as well let Vox rest," she thought. "Girl already has it hard at home."

A memory once thought to be insignificant, Cecil woke up suddenly in an open forest. He didn’t bother to know the name of these forests; they started to blend in together. Against his wishes, his hair touched the dirty ground and acquired leaves that remained in his hair. Hurriedly, he removed them and noticed how dirty his famous black gloves had become.

His face grimaced and the back of his mind reminded him of the nightly whiskers that grew under his dreams. How long has it been ever since he slept on a real bed? The Amberhost Plague had long since passed through and destroyed his village with no aid from the king. He clenched his fist with the pathetic sound of his gloves. His teeth clenched as he vaguely recalled being called a vampire; the likelihood of meeting one was greater than him being one. He’d learn how to bury his parents. He’d learn to bury his servants; he would never eat them. But he never buried the king’s messenger.

And yet, he was guilty of a crime he didn’t commit. The sole crime he did commit only added to the lore of his and he still heard remnants of a previous life.

“What was that noise?” He’d mutter to himself. His sleepy green eyes had trouble adjusting to the dark around him. Whatever that noise was, it roused him up and he didn’t want to accuse his nightmares again. As he tried to piece together what was around him, it’d be a waste of time. Even if he could see, there was no knowledge. He’d skipped through countries years ago to escape the Amberhost Vampire and still, the dreams haunted him. “What was that noise?” he’d ask again.

It was likely an animal who judged this scrawny man for food. Luckily for them, Cecil was too thin for humans and animals alike. Bugs chirped as distant footsteps moved around him. He mumbled his question again; Cecil had many mantras before, it wasn’t unfamiliar.

He couldn’t go back to sleep even after searching for nothing. He was awake and his gloves were dirty. Smoke in the distance alerted him to a village nearby. Perhaps, that’s the noise he heard.