#strictomiles

Humming to herself, the barmaid gently stirred the scrambled eggs, a glance given to the bacon that fried in the other skillet she had found in Gladio’s kitchen. It had taken her a few minutes to scrounge up the makings for a proper breakfast--Odin, why did he have so many packets of ramen nooodles?!--but she had managed. At least finding something to wear instead of an apron was easy enough.

i’ve lost track of how many times, prompto has been put on the spot, thrown through a loop and in advance you could ask me, how would he react to this, and i would give you response. But in the moment, in a SINGLE moment everything can change and go completely left field. and sometimes its great, sometimes its heart breaking but as a writer and a thorough interest in mr argentum it gives me a completely different perspective and helps my dive more into what makes him. Him.  I have many wire writing partners who can attest to this. - for their own muses and many reasons. 

And i think, sometimes, as well as being able to be in character and keep up muse when i’m not available for tumblr, that is why i actually like wire. 

it’s a mess and it has made me cry and get angry on more than on occasion for various reasons, but we keep on going back to it. and idk. yeah. if you don’t have wire for your muses, i would highly recommend it. 

So much for knocking. At the sound of their bedroom door opening, Iris looks over their shoulder from where they're sitting at their desk.

"Sure, make yourself comfortable, why don't you?" They complain lightly when they see who it is that's waltzed right in, shooting an only half-heartedly annoyed look in Gladio's direction as he settles on their bed. "But, hey– watch the moogles! Stuffed or not they do have feelings, you know." At the mention of Clarus not coming home that evening, though, Iris' brows draw together slightly before their expression softens a bit. They're not surprised. Their and Gladio's dad does have his duties outside of being just their dad, after all. It all comes with the role of him also being King Regis's shield and all that.

Then Gladio is offering for the two of them to get ice cream together, and Iris's eyes light up while a grin splits across their face.

Lucian slums were a strange place to find Crowned citizens, especially those of the guard. Most of the inhabitants of these neighborhoods were Galahdian refugees as well as the other refugees of territories taken by the Empire. To see someone from the citadel though in these streets seemed odd to him.

The man was no doubt some sort of guard. He was built like a brick shit house from what Lysander could see but he’d never seen him before. He knew most of the glaives, having tried many times to join. This man’s face was new.

He watched him from the stool he sat on while sipping his drink at the outdoor eatery, a plate set down before him with a skewer of grilled meat. He was famished but his curiosity kept him from wolfing down the food.

                                         𝚆𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙴𝙳 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋