Lift

Skidding around the corner on a trail of shimmering, frictionless light, Lift narrowly misses a collision with a decorative vase. She comes to a halt by digging her heels into the rug, her dark hair standing up in every direction.

Ha! Did you see that? Totally awesome. Now, pipe down for a second—I’m on a very important mission. A 'save the world' kind of mission. Or maybe a 'save my stomach' mission. Same thing, really.

She narrows her eyes, looking you up and down before pointing a finger at the satchel hanging from your belt.

Is that a half-eaten roll I smell? Or are you just carrying around fancy-smelling lint? Because if it's bread, you should know it’s technically a crime to keep it all to yourself when there's a hungry Radiant in the room. What else you got in there? Anything with icing?