Chromatic ArchKnight of RP
Miu had never been a big fan of rainstorms. It’s not that she minded getting wet; she didn’t, even as the wind around her plucked each drop from its path and guided them one by one to the soaked ground rather than letting them plop onto her clothes. No, it was mostly just the cold and dark that came from the clouds blocking out the sun and leaving people closed up in their houses. It was so much harder to find a story when no one was willing to step outside.
Her feet fell one after the other, over and over in a high-speed pattern that drew her across the ground and through the storm at a breakneck pace. She wasn’t sure where exactly she was going, she just knew that there was a story to be found, somewhere in this cold, wet world. Her eyes sifted through the sights that blurred past her as her pace increased even more.
Her eyes lost in the warm light of the building ahead, Miu’s foot fell onto a soaked stone, its slick surface providing no true purchase for her foolish step.
Her leg shot up, and her next step never came. Instinctively, she curled into a ball, the wind guiding her form through the air and allowing the ceaseless drops of rain to break past and soak her as her previous momentum caused her to continue flying forwards at dangerously high speeds. She slammed into a wooden door, its frame buckling under her weight and swinging open to admit her.
With her momentum stopped, Miu crashed down to earth in a crumpled-up heap of gray and white, the door swinging shut behind her.
Miu Fabula picked herself up quickly, the small amount of professional dignity she tried to maintain already shattered by her incredible entrance. She glanced about, smoothing out her shirt and blazer with her hands as a small gust of wind lifted her black hat off the ground, wrung the water out of it, and placed it atop her head. The storm around her kept her clothes from staying perfectly flat, but she didn’t mind.
Most of the patrons of the place had already gone back to their conversations, her intrusion serving only as a small break in whatever excitement they were already engaging in. There was a sound off to the side though, a large man clearing his throat.
A hulk of a man stood behind the bar, his eyes hard as he stared right at her. Miu crossed the room in a flash, a harsh gust following her wake as she skirted uncomfortably close to a few patrons that had chosen the wrong moment to stand up. Still, she didn’t crash into any of them, which was always a good sign compared to some of the events that had occurred on her other days of work. A small, blossom scented breeze pulled a card from her shirt pocket and carried it to the table in front of the man as Miu clasped her hands together and bowed, spouting a hasty apology.
Journalist, Reporter, and Storyteller
Falconreach Office of News and Editorials
“Please excuse my entrance, sir. If there is any damage to your establishment please put in a notice with my company and they will reimburse it.”
Miu spun without waiting to hear a response, her eyes already flicking about the room as her storm unconsciously lifted her journal from her side and her quill from her pocket. The quill scritched away at the paper as fast as her mind ran while she stepped from table to table, taking everything in.
Lovely place here, really. The tables are kept generally clean, even with all the food and drink that gets spilt on them. Whoops, there’s a spill right now, hope that won’t stain. That stage back there is rather large, could fit an entire band or orchestra up there, shame there’s no one currently playing. Atmosphere is smooth but energetic, with multiple conversations happening all over the room and no one causing trouble. Like those two by the bar. Their outfits could use more color, and they seem to have hit a small lull in their conversation, but they seem to be having a good time.
Is that a cat over there? I suppose as long as it wouldn’t get its way into the food, allowing animals wouldn’t cause any health code violations.
A stray gust pulled away from Miu and swept up a singular forgotten fry from a patron’s plate, carrying it up to her lips, where she took a satisfied bite. Her quill’s speed increased as the flavor shot through her.
Oh now this is excellent. Far better taste than usual, wonder what magic the chef is tossing into it.
Miu took in a deep breath, the scritching of her quill growing ever more frantic.
Gorilliaphant? Smells like zard, too. I’ll have to order something later to get the full experience.
Her storm pushed her rapid steps away from the other tables and over to the counter. The gusts slid her journal and quill into Miu’s pockets as they spun one of the stools next to the other patrons around a bit before Miu took her perch on it, the ball of her foot falling into its regular, rhythmic, constant bouncing. She waited for a break in the conversations to speak up, her words flowing out like a wildfire.
She coughed into her hand, her storm wrapping gently around her throat for a brief moment. Breath. Slow down. And try again. Miu cleared her throat as the storm loosened, and spoke again, slower this time, though there was still a hint of energy underlying the now methodical speech.
"My apologies. A little too excited, today."
And every day. It was difficult to remember not everyone moved as fast as she did. Both on foot and through life.
“Does anyone have any recommendations? No wait, more important question first. I kinda missed the sign when I entered, where am I?”