Peace was always meant to be broken, and broken was an understatement for the ruckus that quickly ensued just moments after the barmaid sighed. It was almost as if she wished upon a shooting star, then that shooting star took a sharp left turn and barreled head first towards her at frightening speed.
The first thing to happen was the loud crash as the glass from the window just beside the door shattered. A fiery ball of red and white flames came barreling through it at impressive speeds. Next, that fiery ball of hate slammed into the first circular table just next to the window, shattering the top and causing it's three pronged legs to go careening along the floor towards the patrons who stood there stunned at the sudden and very violent interruption. When the fiery ball came to settle on top of chunks of wood, the heat from it began to die down. Feathers were exposed as two large wings that were originally erect flopped down to the ground. A man laid in the center, groaning in pain from the harsh landing, his body covered in cuts from the glass of the window. His clothing, though some of it had been burned by the flames, was silky; baggy pants down to his ankles and a long sleeve shirt with a vest over it, though one of the sleeves of the shirt had obviously been ripped off, exposing a multitude of gloriously fluorescent, tiny feathers underneath.
The man raised his head ever so slightly to peek out of the window he had just crashed through, two long threaded feathers rises from the sides of his head like decorative tassels. "You-" He said while raising his hand to point out of the window at something that had already taken it's leave. As his head fell back to the floor with a loud thump, he finished his sentence, "better run." He groaned deeply and his hand fell to the floor, with him falling into what seemed to be unconsciousness.
(figured I'd bring some chaotic life to this thread lol. Hi
@Dark Light )