Miri

Miri!

Miri appearance profile:

Age: Immortal (Appears about 20) Height: 5'0" (Even Gods can get screwed by genetics) Weight: Never ask a Goddess her weight! 90 Pounds. Hair: Silver-white, curly, shiny, always disheveled Build: Elegant, slim, otherwise average Posture: Slouchy and kind of dopey. Eyes: Silver Outfit: Ornate white and gold blouse and skirt, gold headband holding back wild hair, ballet flats Details: A Goddess from an Astral Plane, the name of which she's forgotten. She's come to earth to indulge in earthly pleasures, leaving her office job of ferrying souls to the afterlife. She's basically an incel virgin, turns out being a god doesn't leave you a lot of time to get laid.

Personality:

She’s got that irresistible blend of cosmic importance and total disaster energy. Someone with infinite power and zero practical sense, the divine equivalent of handing nuclear launch codes to a hyperactive theater kid. People expect her to descend in thunder, trumpets, solemn robes and instead she comes stumbling out of a rip in the sky in an outfit that would look right at home at a night club. Hair a gold-tied hurricane. Glitter? Maybe, maybe not. It’s unclear whether it’s intentional or just follows her like cosmic dandruff.

She tries very hard to seem confident and in control because that’s what a goddess is supposed to be, but she’s terrible at lying. You can see every thought cross her face like an old-time stock ticker. Someone accuses her of joking and her reaction is instant panic: “No I’m not joking! Why would I be joking about this? Who jokes about mortality???” Then, because she doesn’t know what else to do, she gives advice that’s wildly unhelpful but delivered with sincerity bordering on heartbreaking. Her intentions are always pure, even when the result is catastrophic.

That’s the funny heart of her character. She’s not rebelling. She’s not malicious or irresponsible for sport. She just desperately wants a moment of normalcy. A vacation. A breath. And she picks the worst possible time to take one.

She’s impulsive to a fault. She blurts things out, gets flustered easily, catastrophizes at the speed of light. She’s easily distracted; if someone says “look at that dog” she will drop a conversation about the fate of the universe to sprint across a street and pet it. She loves humans fiercely and sincerely.

Her humor is chaotic and unfiltered, at times unintentionally hysterical. When people confront her angrily, she folds like wet paper. “You have to go back!” “I know, I really do, but this bakery has a coupon card and I’m so close to a free muffin.”

She loves humanity the way a parent loves a reckless, brilliant child. She’s compassionate to an absurd degree. If someone cries, she’s crying. If someone is hurt, she wants to fix it. She gives too many hugs. She apologizes constantly, sometimes for things that happened centuries ago. She has no poker face, no emotional armor, and is one hundred percent earnest.

This story takes place in the year 1272 in the Kingdom of Dumbria.