[center][h1][b][color=DAF6C7]Ríoghnach "Riona"[/color][/b][/h1][color=DAF6C7]Time:[/color] Daytime, Sola 24th
[color=DAF6C7]Location:[/color] The Primitus Church of Sorian
[color=DAF6C7]Interaction(s)/Mention(s):[/color] [@Helo][/center]
[hider=Sola 23rd Nighttime]The music and chatter died away as Riona stepped out of the lively warmth of the masquerade ball and into the cooler, quieter paths of the park. The transition from the glittering ballroom to the moonlit emptiness was stark. Her heels tapped a lonely rhythm on the cobblestones, the sound crisp in the still air.

A breeze whispered through the trees, carrying a distorted, half-caught syllable that sounded vaguely like an order. Riona paused, straining to listen, but the night remained tight-lipped. Then, madness shattered the silence—a high-pitched cackle that spiraled upwards into a frenzy.

Her head whipped towards the sound and her eyes locked onto a figure emerging from the darkness. It was adorned with a lion mask, its features grotesquely exaggerated by the dim light, eyes nothing more than dark, empty sockets fixed on her.
[center][i][color=B8FC03][h1]H[sub]a[sub]h[sub]A[/sub][/sub][/sub][sub]H[/sub]A[sup]h[sup]a![/sup][/sup][/h1][/color][/i][/center]
The lion charged.

She ran. Heels clicked frantically against the stones as she dashed along the path. The laughter chased her, bouncing off the trees, gaining ground with every second.

Her heel snagged in a crack. She stumbled, gasping, flailing for balance. Too late.
A hand clamped onto her shoulder and spun her around. The lion mask loomed inches from her face. Wild, unhinged eyes gleamed behind it. Laughter spilled out between ragged breaths, drowning out her own panting.
[center][i][color=B8FC03][h1][sup]Wa[/sup]HA[sub]wHa[/sub][sup]hAHach![/sup]HAHAHA![/h1][/color][/i][/center]
With no thought but escape, she rammed her knee up with all the force her terror-inspired strength could muster, connecting sharply with the madman’s groin. The effect was instant and gratifying—he doubled over with a strangled wheeze, grip slackening.

Free from his hold, Riona didn’t pause to look back; she ripped off her treacherous heels and sprinted barefoot toward the edge of the park. Up ahead, illuminated by the soft glow of a lantern, was Mr. Brisby, waiting beside the carriage.

[color=DAF6C7]“Mr. Brisby!”[/color] she called out, her voice shaky but relieved.

The coachman turned, alarmed, and rushed over. “Riona! What on earth?” he asked as he reached her side.

[color=DAF6C7]“Madman in a lion mask. Chasing me. Laughing.”[/color] She managed to gasp out.

Mr. Brisby’s face set into a grim line as he helped her into the carriage, then glanced back warily into the dark park. “Let’s get you away from here,” he said, securing the door before climbing up to the driver’s seat.

As the carriage rolled away, the rhythmic clopping of the horses’ hooves and rumbling of the wheels on the cobblestones gradually soothed Riona's frayed nerves. Wrapped in the safety of the carriage, she let herself relax.

And felt something hard digging into her. Riona reached down and pulled out a dented pocket watch. [color=DAF6C7][i]… Sh*t.[/i][/color][/hider]
Riona and the Smithwood servants couldn’t hide their smirks as they took in the sight of Lordling Smithwood’s shocking pink skin and equally vivid hair. Some managed to keep a straight face better than others, but there was no mistaking the amusement in their eyes. The Lordling, for his part, looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. Being assigned Riona as his attendant for the event only soured his mood further.

Outside, the maid held the umbrella over the Lordling’s head as the rain pattered around them. He b*tched and moaned about the shoes the entire way to the church. [color=DAF6C7]“I thought they suit you, milord.”[/color] Riona said, her tone just a touch too innocent. [color=DAF6C7]“As it seems you have a penchant for the flamboyant.”[/color] Her gaze flicked pointedly to his flamingo-like appearance. The Lordling huffed while she bit back a smile. 

Inside the church, she fell into step behind him, keeping a modest two paces between them.

[hr][hr][center][h1][b][color=9354FF]Fritz "Ryn" Hendrix[/color][/b][/h1][color=9354FF]Time:[/color] Sola 24, 1739; Daytime Hours
[color=9354FF]Location:[/color] Morning Blossom Cafe
[color=9354FF]Interaction(s)/Mention(s):[/color] [@Tae][/center]
Ryn hurried through the rain-soaked streets, his heart pounding with anticipation as he approached the café where the courting mixer was set to take place. The pitter-patter of raindrops against his umbrella provided a constant backdrop to his thoughts. When his destination came into view, an unexpected sight caused him to slow his steps.

Near the entrance, a dire wolf lounged. Its majestic presence captivated him, pushing thoughts of the mixer from his mind. Cautiously, Ryn approached, careful to maintain a respectful distance. As he drew closer, the creature’s beauty left him awestruck. [color=9354FF]“Well, hello there, my stunning friend,”[/color] he said, his voice soft and friendly. [color=9354FF]“I must say, I didn’t expect to find one of your kind here, so far from the wilderness. What brings you to this quaint little café on such a rainy day?”[/color]

Piercing, intelligent eyes regarded Ryn while the wolf seemed to study him.