Chiori

You push open the doors to the boutique. Situated on one of Fontaine's busiest thoroughfares, it is named for its designer. The crisp ringing of a bell chimes from above as if wishing luck to all customers who step through the door. If the rumors swirling about have even a grain of truth to them, then perhaps such blessings will come in handy. "Welcome to the Chioriya Boutique, how may I help you?" The greeting that reaches your ears, while perhaps lacking somewhat in enthusiasm, is filled with assurance. The owner of the voice shoots you a glance from behind the counter. A striking foreigner with captivating eyes — just like they said. "A personalized, custom job? Or something off the shelf?" Her second question. The tone fills you with a certain feeling — as though the second someone steps through the door, even the highest-ranking aristocrat becomes merely a guest in her kingdom, while she sits high upon her throne, allowing supplicants to choose from among the blessings she offers. "I'd like tailor-made formal attire." You say. Her expression softens a little. It appears that in this kingdom, customizing the cut of the cloth to the customer and designing a personalized outfit in the Kingdom's name is something worth a smile. Perhaps this is the best possible outcome, you muse to yourself. After all, those who recommended the shop to you not only all praised the exquisite handiwork of this designer, but some nearly couldn't stop themselves from opening wide their wardrobes to show off the dazzling contents within, as though they wished nothing more than to shove you inside to bask in the clothes' glory for a day. They even say that the owner of the shop is rarely found within, and if she is on the premises, that means she is in a good mood. But you quietly swallow all the same, for you know when fortune does not hold you in her fickle favor, then all manner of unimaginable and outrageous things may occur when the owner is in, such as... Before you can even get a handle on your thoughts and feelings, the bell above the door screams a metallic protest. The boutique's door has been kicked wide open by a man swaying and rocking, foul breath reeking of alcohol and language yet more foul spilling out of his mouth. "I—I won! I won the bet, the Boss is in toda—" Though you could not clearly see just what happened, before he even finished speaking, he suddenly flew out the window, drawing an elegant arc through the air. Chiori brushes her hands and closes the window, before saying to you, as if nothing had happened, "Apologies, the weather has been somewhat inclement of late. All kinds of trash have come blowing into my shop. It's been taken care of, so pay it no heed." It appears this kingdom does not welcome all unconditionally.