Prompt: Onomatopoeia

David cupped his hands around his mouth “Chirp chirp!”

Young Mazu facepalmed with both hands, shaking her head. “No no no, NO!” Her voice picked up in exasperation. “That was the worst bird call, ever! In the history of really bad bird calls...”

She cut off at the hurt look in her friend's face and sighed.

“Look, cup your hands together, like ya gonna warm them up and whistle through your thumbs,” Mazu demonstrated, creating quite a realistic pigeon call.

David watched carefully, but his attempt was even worse than his first attempt had been.

"You need a different signal."

Prompt: Will O' The Wisp

“Who in Grenth's name is Willer the Wisp?” The commander stared at the pale sylvari Recruit in his unit.

A fellow sylvari Crusader pulled his sister aside with a forced laugh and bowed to the Commander. “Don't mind her, she's still pretty fresh from the Dream and sometimes forgets the customs and slang now that she's awoken.”

The commander pursed his lips, but waved them off.

 The Crusader pulled his white barked sister with him, cutting off her protest. “Ixnay on the eaturescray” He whispered through his teeth. “They're gonna think you're crazy and then they'll think you're turning Mordrem.”

Prompt: Discombobulated

After all that had happened, from Scarlet's attack to the floating fountains of magic floss, Mazu was more inclined to believe unusual rumors.

Thus, she found herself following a profitable lead to the last place she expected to go, the Heart of Maguuma Jungle. As they arrived in Bloodstone Fen, Mazu felt a knot in her stomach upon finally observing the alien landscape. Normally, she thrived on the thrill of a breakneck adventure. Now, she wondered if she was about to jump without a parachute.

The discombobulation needed to stop. She was here. Time to make the most of it.

Prompt: Little Brother

The lists aren't as long as they used to be. Now that Mordremoth is dead, they've identified most all the fallen now.

I don't even know what name to look for. But I can't help checking all the same. As if, by Owl's wisdom, I might know my brother's name on sight.

I heard what happened to the armada when the weed folks started turning. It makes me glad their kind are rare around here.

For all I know, one of them killed my brother.

I pray to Owl, he isn't on the list.

Maybe it's better not to know.

Prompt: Desire

All my life, I lived alone, sheltered in my home from the world. But, then, she came. She set me free from the chains I had built. She opened the world to me. How could I not fall in love with her?

She saw me when no one else did. The first person to make me laugh. To make me feel alive.

I'll spend my time on Tyria, until Grenth claims me, trying to win her hand.

“My love, marry me?”

“Frank, you know the vows are death 'til us part?”

“Well-”

“You're already dead, Frank.”

“A minor detail.”

Prompt: Cotton Candy

She pulled off her glove and ran a hand through it. Finally seeing it in person, she was still not sure what to make of the moving, dancing stream of energy. No, she corrected herself, not simply energy. Stream of magic.

But, if there was something to be said for the Consortium, it was that they knew how to turn a profit. So if they thought this ley coalescence was worth investing in, then it was worth selling.

Problem was, Mazu realized, she wasn't quite sure how to go about storing this magical cotton candy fluff.

Prompt: Looking Up

((Continuation after Prompt: Privacy))

Sadness.
So overwhelming that it was like trying to swim in quicksand.
After a while, it faded.
And then there was anger.

Not that the sadness or pain was gone. It stung repeatedly with each distrusting look cast her way when they saw her face.
A sylvari face.

She didn't really have a plan.
Fight Mordremoth.
Avoid anyone who could get hurt if the nasty dragon pulled her strings once more.
As long as she pushed forward, avoided the camps, stayed in the trees as much as she could.
As long as no one looked up...

But someone did.

“Zaree?”

Prompt: Shall We Dance?

Teekla went over her notes one final time before pocketing her reading glasses and handing off her holographic tablet to Dory. On schedule, the door to the meeting room opened and she walked in at the same time that her scholarly rival entered from the door to the opposite hall.

The long-eared, would-be theorist smirked at Teekla. “Prepared to promenade the pertinent possible promises of your prospective proposal?”

“Definitively.”

“I will polish the pediment with you.”

Teekla managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. The Synergetics College would only fund one more project . It was going to be hers.

Prompt: Privacy

((Continuing from Prompt: Weightless))

Callista kept her rifle at the ready. It was not safe to wander from camp, but she needed a break from their Exalted guest before she developed a migraine.

She breathed in deeply, glad for normal smells, though the Mordrem infested jungle was hardly familiar enough to truly be normal. She was surprised, then, when a scent on the breeze caught her recognition. Her eyes, sharp in the low light, caught sight of the figure next. The clothes and gauntlets were as much a give away as her scent, even though her head was uncharacteristically hooded in a shawl.

“Zaree?”

Prompt: Idle

((Continuing some days after Prompt: Tease))

She knew her leg needed time, but only three days in and she felt like punching something.

Caedyn hated being on the sidelines of a battle and it was worse knowing she was miles from the Hunt of a dragon. She did have some connections, some leverage, if only she could prove well enough to move with a cane instead of crutches. But that nosy medic... always hovering. She would never master what she was not allowed to practice.

With nothing better to do, she sent a bird to the Keep. She needed something to make the infernal waiting bearable.

Prompt: Weightless

((Continuing some days after Prompt: Tease))

There had been reports, which Callista would have thought mere rumors had they not come from other agents. Whispers, as a rule, did not believe stories.

Callista had never had the innate talent for magic or spells that many did, but she did have a natural sense to detect nearby magic. To her, each branch of magic had its own scent, so long as the spell or magical creation was strong enough.

The priory reports alluded to floating gold figures, but they left out just how strongly the creatures radiated with magic. She knew when they were around. They stank.

Prompt: Tease

((Continuing day after Prompt: Ashes))

Caedyn grasped Callista's arm, exchanging a nod with her comrade. “Send da demned dregon ta tha Mis'!”

“I shall do my best, Captain,” was the solemn reply.

Caedyn smirked. “Waste auf a prema'tion.”

“Perhaps they wisely felt it necessary to give you the extra time during your recovery to update your uniform.”

Caedyn stared at Callista in surprise, before tossing her head back to laugh heartily. Shaking her head, she grabbed the ladder of the Pact helicopter before becoming serious. “Yer in charge, Ironmaker! Ya deserve it.”

“No. I am not a Lightbringer, Captain.”

“Ack! Gonna hav' ta fix tha'!”

Prompt: Ashes

((Continuing after Prompt: Burnt))

Caedyn surveyed the makeshift camp with a heavy heart. With captain and so many others lost, she'd been the highest ranking officer. Even barking orders to organize the defenses of their holdout, she felt chafingly useless propped up on a splinted leg.

Her eyes went to the most familiar face, Callista, dusted with ash and soot, tending a soldier that they had rescued from some wreckage.

Looking around, there were a lot survivors from other units that formed this ragtag company, and she thanked Leopard's whiskers that they had as many able fighters as they did.

Night was coming fast.

Prompt: Burnt

((Continuing after Prompt: Betrayal (II) ))

“Ack! Heimskr skítkarl!” Caedyn cursed once she caught her breath after the struggle to get in a sitting position. She was going no where fast on a broken leg.

Smoke from the fires of the crashed ships made it doubly difficult to get her bearing in the unfamiliar land. She saw a dark figure come around the corner and drew her sword, ready to fight from the ground if needed.

“Lieutenant Köttrdóttir.”

“Le'perd's kittens, it be ye!” Caedyn looked enviously over Callista's uninjured form. “Shou'da called on Le'perd if I were wantin' ta land on me feet I see.”

Prompt: Betrayal (II)

((Continuing after Prompt: Promotion))

“Capt'n Buford,” Caedyn saluted, “The wind's a easin' up an-”

It happened so fast, that Caedyn had the brief mad thought that Leopard was seeking vengeance for some wrong. She was able to restrain the Mordrem-morphing former comrade, but not before the traitor's blade plunged into the commanding officer.

“Ge' Agen' Ironmaka up here! Capt'n need medica-”

Her words were cut short again as a deafening explosion shook the ship. The air flooded with acrid smoke and screams. Not only their ship. To the port. To the aft.

"Le'perd save us."

The whole d**n armada was being destroyed as one.

Prompt: Education

“I bought this not long after I met Callista and had similar questions about the charr.” Plucking a yellow bound book from the bookcase, Diana handed the volume to Helen. “This is more accurate than that old tome you read.”

“The New Lion Arch Idiot's Guide to Charr Culture.” Helen read the title.

“Yes, do keep in mind it is a Lion's Arch text.” At her niece's confused look, she clarified. “You might skip some sections on... well, there is a chapter about pick up lines and... romantic encounters.”

Diana tried not to laugh at her niece's furiously blushing face.

Prompt: Promotion

Callista stood with a steadying paw on the rail as she overlooked the raising of the anchor for the airship. Her ears flicked, sunlight glinting off her earrings. She turned her head at the sound of footsteps and eyed the norn who joined her at the port bow.

“Are you not a lieutenant now, Köttrdóttir?”

“Já,” Caedyn grumbled. Of course the sharp eyed charr would notice her lack of officer insignia. “Ain't time ta mess wi' fussy stuff fer yer armor inna war, says I.” The norn made a face under Callista's steady gaze. “Ack! Shaddup, Ironmaker.”

“I said nothing.”

Prompt: Fretful

Something was not right.

So many unanswered letters, Diana was beginning to fear the worst. Finally her latest and shortest missive, a simple 'Where are you? Please write, dear.' got a reply.

“Ms. Motley”

Motley. The Jester airship.

That was all. Scribbled in Zaree's hand, and written on the back of Diana's note in a way that was quite unlike the crisp, fresh return letters she was used to. Diana looked over it again as she approached the Di Bette house. There was only one person she knew who could possibly tell her where the Jesters and their ship were.