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bitty kitty b i found that i hadn't finished sooo i finished it :3

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♡ ─ 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐌 · 𝐏.𝐋. !

"Perfection may be unreachable, but a steady hand and a clear mind can shape even the most tangled chaos into order."

Voice Claim by: Late Cookie, Cookie Run Kingdom

❝ Arriving unannounced and unrecognized by the Magic Mirror, she embodies quiet certainty and meticulous care. Though the new Ramshackle Prefect's structure may falter, her relentless effort and efficiency carve a place for her in a world where true perfection remains just out of reach. ❞

Basic Information: 

Birthday: August 26 (Virgo) Age: Unknown Height: 159 cm Dominant Hand: Right Homeland: Unknown (Outside of Twisted Wonderland) Family: Unnamed Aunt Other Name(s): Herbivore (Leona), Shrimpy (Floyd), Trickster, Mademoiselle Neat & Tidy (Rook), Child of Man (Malleus), Human (Sebek) Prefect

Grade: Freshman Class: Class A (No. 10) Club: Horse-Riding Club Best Subject: History of Magic

Hobbies: Crocheting  Pet Peeves: Mess Favorite Food: Pineapple delight Least Favorite Food: Bubblegum ice cream Talent: Effectiveness and efficiency

Personality: 

Miriam carries herself with the calm precision of someone who’s always known their purpose, even when no one else does. She arrived at Night Raven College not with fanfare or confusion, but with quiet certainty. There was no dramatic entrance, no questions asked—only a folded letter, a brisk assessment of the mess left by Grim, and the swift, meticulous effort to bring order to the chaos. It was as if she belonged there, despite every indication that she didn’t.

She was not on any official summoning roster. The Magic Mirror could not place her—not magically, not physically, not even conceptually. It gave no answers, only a single word: “Empty.” Yet despite that, or maybe because of it, Miriam never faltered. She simply nodded, straightened her spine, and got to work.

Her presence is quiet but unmistakable. Miriam is the kind of person who notices when a picture frame is tilted by two degrees or when someone’s buttons don’t align with their hem. There’s a certain neatness in everything she does—her handwriting, her gait, her unwavering gaze. Clean, precise, deliberate. She doesn’t seek attention, but she is always watching, always ready to fix, adjust, or assist. When people speak to her, they sometimes find themselves standing up straighter or lowering their voice. She brings structure with her, the way others might bring perfume or warmth.

Miriam isn’t magical in the traditional sense. Her spells often fizzle out or behave unpredictably. Her enchantments don’t shine, they sputter. But she makes up for it in other ways: through efficiency, dedication, and an almost obsessive desire to get things right. She memorizes historical dates the way others memorize song lyrics, and she can recite entire magical procedures like they’re bedtime stories. She’s not brilliant, but she is relentless.

The truth behind her arrival is more complicated than anyone first imagined. The letter that brought her to NRC wasn’t meant for her at all—it was addressed to her aunt, a woman renowned for her skill and service to the school from the shadows. Miriam took her place, not out of rebellion, but out of a desperate yearning to become like her. Her aunt is everything Miriam wishes she could be: poised, powerful, and perfectly put together. And so Miriam imitates her, down to the inch of height, to the clipped tone, to the way she folds her sleeves just so.

But no matter how hard she tries, she’s always just slightly off. Not broken—just unfinished. Her hands tremble when they shouldn’t. Her spells smudge instead of shine. There’s dust she misses, even though she circles back twice. But still, she wakes up every day and tries again. Not because she thinks she’ll be perfect, but because she refuses to accept that she won’t be.

In a school full of flamboyant powerhouses and legendary lineages, Miriam is quiet proof that effort has a magic all its own.

Background: 

Miriam appeared at Night Raven College was never meant to. She stepped off the coffin like she had simply opened a drawer. No theatrics. No confusion. Just dusted off her skirt (though there was no dust), handed the letter to Crowley, and began tidying the room mess made by Grim without even flinching. Her name was not on any summoning list, and the Magic Mirror recognized no magical trace. 

When the Magic Mirror finally acknowledged her, it gave only one word: “Empty.” Not talentless. Not null. Just… empty. A blank container. A placeholder. A shadow in the shape of a person. 

Miriam had a poorly patched letter addressed to her, the letter in her hand bore Headmage Crowley’s signature. It was real—barely, hastily pieced together from scraps he'd discarded. The letter was glued back together from the scraps he’d personally thrown out after dismissing it since it was addressed to a “Miss.” There were no girls at Night Raven, after all. A mistake. Or so it seemed.

She said: “My aunt is otherwise occupied, and I’ll tend to what she, and you can’t—organization, manners, and care when called for. A proper structure prevents chaos.” Miriam’s only explanation for being there is, “I’m here to help. That’s all.”

Only much later, during the events of Book 7, did the truth surface: the letter wasn’t hers. It had been meant for her aunt—a sharp, revered, highly skilled, and previously in an unofficial role related to the College’s outer affairs—was the original recipient to help everything. But the girl intercepted the letter and came to her place.

But Miriam had taken her place. Why? Because Miriam wanted to prove herself. Miriam wants to be like her aunt—practically perfect, put-together, competent beyond comprehension. Miriam imitates her aunt with unyielding dedication—matching her aunt’s literal height (though she’ll never quite reach it), mirroring her neatness, her stillness, her precision. But while her aunt was exceptional by nature, Miriam is a work in progress. Every day, she tries. Miriam wants to be perfect, even though she knows her aunt is a literal special case. That’s why her height is so close to her aunt's, close to her perfection but not able to grow.

Trivia:

Miriam is inspired on Mary Poppins.

The surname "P.L." is the actual name of the original author of Mary Poppins, Pamela Lyndon Travers.

Her height—159 cm—is precisely one centimeter shorter than her aunt’s, still being older now, she still believes she can grow 1cm.

She has memorized every Night Raven College hallway, shortcut, and blind spot. Not for mischief—she just hates being late.

Her aunt’s name is never spoken aloud. Even Miriam avoids it, referring to her only as “She.”

She carries a small, worn photo of her aunt and her. It’s slightly faded at the corners from frequent handling.

Voice lines:

Daily Login: Everything in order? Good. Let’s begin again—with poise, of course.

Player's birthday: Another year added to your name. Do take pride in how far you’ve come… and stand up straight, please. Well, happy birthday. Her birthday: A day of significance… though there’s still work to be done. Neatness doesn’t take holidays. *Pause* Thank you for remembering.

Tutorial: Now then, let me show you.

Level up 1: Steady progress. Level up 2: Ah. Improvement! Level up 3: I see you’ve chosen to enhance with precision. Level max: Not perfect… but very nearly. I daresay we’ve reached something rather respectable.

Vignette level up: Memories, when polished and placed properly, can shine like silver cutlery. Physical level up: A stronger stance. Mind your posture, though—it reflects your intent.

Uncapped: Unbound? Well then. Do take care not to unravel in the process. Groovification: A touch of flair, if done with moderation, may be permissible… yes. This will do.

Lesson select 1: Knowledge first. Always. Lesson select 2: Disorder is a poor companion to learning. Lesson select 3: There’s a charm in tidy notes and proper effort. Lesson start: Proper posture, proper focus. Lesson finish: We’ll tidy up tomorrow.

Battle start: Honestly. A bit messy, isn’t it? Battle won: And that is how you handle other's mess.

SSR Attack 3: Kindly stand still. Spit-spot! Permit me to assist.