[url]https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/irihis-character-index.211268/post-4457035[/url]
[Center] [Color=Cyan] Miiya Aether [/color]


The storms had been threatening all afternoon; towering thunderheads bubbling up in the afternoon warmth of the late-summer sun. The great ramparts of clouds eventually obscured the golden rays, the long shadows of their spreading anvils creeping across the deep green forest and eventually slipping across the river and climbing the hilly Ryken side of Arborhaven. As the purple-bellied clouds approached, fishing lines, laundry, and dried alfalfa bundles were pulled in by the cosmopolitan and bucolic denizens of the border city. The approaching storms promised a wild and windy evening. Distant rumbles of thunder became cracking peals as lightning flickered closer. Anyone who wanted to stay dry had best hasten to get themselves indoors.

Well, Miiya [i]had[/i] wanted to stay dry, but fate wasn’t having it. The Aerial had thought she could surmount the rolling front of storms sweeping in from the Fae See. It had been early afternoon still, and she’d spent time, effort, and energy pumping to altitude--even with the help of the noontide thermals. A practiced aviator, she’d thought the storms scattered enough that she could find a canyon between the thunderheads and perhaps even ride the great lift of warm air that always rose in front of such storm fronts. By the time she realized her mistake--that the front was taking on the shape of a derecho--it had been too late to overfly the clouds. The storm formed a great bow a hundred miles wide and thirty thousand feet high. Miiya was a powerful flyer, but even the strongest Stormdancer could not fly that high. 

Even just descending safely before the storm hit had been a bit touch-and-go. Derechos were dangerous for any avian. Once formed, they moved faster than any flyer, and could catch the unprepared aviator in a tumultuous whiteout of horizonless updrafts, downdrafts, wing-icing sleet and even dangerously-large hailstones. Once she realized she was not going to find a way between the clouds, Miiya had been hard-pressed to dive and get on the ground before the storm swept over her. 

There had been a bit of turbulence, and the birdgirl had almost decided to wave off and land in a field safely clear of obstructions. In the end, though, the prospect of slogging to shelter through rain and hail had convinced her to attempt a landing in Arborhaven’s narrow streets. Despite the ground turbulence, she’d stalled artfully in the eddy of a churchtower and dropped to the cobblestones--just in time for the first wave of the deluge to wash over her. Miiya’s subsequent mad dash and string of curses both terminated as she banged in through the door of the Inn, her dripping satchel held over her head as a mostly-ineffectual makeshift umbrella. She took note of the lute player and his song, but he seemed to be occupying the only dry space under the Inn’s portico, so she continued on inside.

[color=cyan] “Gah! Yfretting wet!!”[/color] she swore, yanking the door closed behind her and cutting off the blast of rain-laden wind that had accompanied her entrance. The windows of the common room and tavern flashed with a nearby lightning strike and an almost instant crack of thunder. Miiya grimaced and dropped her satchel on the floorboards. Turning so that she wouldn’t shower any nearby patrons she shook the beading raindrops from her folded wings, and then ran her fingers through her short-cropped brown hair, wringing out some of the wet. Her feathers were well-oiled, and had repelled the worst of the downpour. Likewise, her travel gear--while not exactly waterproof--was resistant to rain, so long as one didn’t stay out in it overlong. 

Picking her satchel back up and slinging it over a shoulder, Miiya peered at the tavern of the Inn into which she had [f]blown. Her chestnut eyes took in the minor crowd in the common room, lingered for a moment on the cheery fire in the hearth, and then locked upon the Innkeeper serving food and drink from behind the bar. Her footfalls light on the wooden floor, Miiya bellied up to the bar, setting her satchel at her feet. [color=cyan] “Evenin’ barkeep!”[/color] Her voice was a cheerful alto tone that cut easily through the general din as she addressed the owner of the establishment. [color=cyan] “I’ll take a triple order of whatever yer cookin’ tonight!”[/color] she said, her words possibly lifting one of the busy eyebrows of the bartender--if he happened to be unfamiliar with Aerial dining habits. [color=cyan] “Annnnd…”[/color] Miiya glanced around again. Yes, this seemed like a upstanding establishment. The crowd appeared to be a group of regulars, supplemented by travelers who were on the gritty side of upscale; peddlers, tradesmen, and minor merchants. [i] Looks safe enough. [/i] [color=cyan] “…a pint.” [/color] Miiya decided, figuring she would drown the regret of having to cut her travel day short due to the storm.

This was not the Aerial woman’s first time in Arborhaven, and she knew the general layout of the city.  It was not by accident that she’d alighted in one of the districts with a reputation for low rates of petty crime. Even so, the birdgirl resolved to take it slow. Sure, she wanted to unwind a little after her strenuous flight, but the flying had left her underweight and dehydrated. This evening would end up being a lot less fun if some sticky-fingered ne’er-do-well caught her being inattentive with her belongings or coinpurse. 

As she produced a few coins from said purse, Miiya grinned to herself. [i]Or maybe it wouldn’t.[/i] She thought to herself as she took a short-ish pull from the frothy stein the bartender had delivered. [i] How long has it been since I’ve been in a real scrap?[/i] She wondered. 

[i]Long enough? Not long enough?[/i] Miiya wasn’t sure. It wasn’t that the diminutive birdgirl liked fighting [i]...it just… ya know, scratches that itch, sometimes.[/i] She pivoted on her stool such that she could put her elbows on the bar and lean back on their support, along with that of her close-folded wings. [i] Fighting might be fun, getting my shu thieved will certainly not.[/i] She reminded herself, and threaded one foot through the strap of her satchel, just in case she got forgetful, and this place wasn’t as friendly as it seemed. 

Looking left and right as she sipped her ale, Miiya took in nearby drinking companions, making eye contact with anyone who might be looking at her. Aerials were a fairly rare sight most the world over, and especially this far West--near the border of Ryken and The See. She expected she might be garnering some attention, and wanted to judge what flavor it was. She’d smile back at friendly or inquisitive glances, but might have a sharper look for anyone who seemed like they were appraising her. Her overall demeanor could be described as friendly, but also unabashed, and perhaps even bordering on bold--like a hawk or an eagle surveying the area from her perch. 

A few patrons met her gaze, but most looked away quickly. Of the rest, she didn't see anyone who's eye she particularly [I]wanted[/I] to catch, so Miiya turned her attention to her closest barmate, Netzir. She had entered too late to catch the beastman's name, so she made up a moniker of her own for him.

[Color=cyan] "What's up, fuzzball?" [/Color] Miiya queried with a broad grin. [color=cyan] "Nice weather we're having, ain't it?"[/color]