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[center][img]https://r2.fivemanage.com/pub/doubdm0v7ugm.png[/img][/center]
[color=slateblue]Time:[/color] 10am 
[color=F0E399]Location:[/color] Drakes Birthday Party
[color=slateblue]Mention:[/color] 
[color=F0E399]Interactions:[/color][@Rodiak]Mathias
[color=F0E399]Appearance[/color]: No shoes | Blue summer gown with butterflies embroidered on gown

Ariella smiled sweetly, though the corners of her lips twitched as she fought the urge to laugh. “Ah yes, those were the days,” she said airily. Her gaze slid toward Mathias, realizing now that it was him. She immediately caught the frantic look in his eyes. He was on the verge of cracking. But Ariella was nothing if not the perfect storm in moments like these.

Ariella's lips parted as she suppressed a laugh, her entire body trembling slightly from the effort. But instead of reacting with shock or laughter, she immediately swept forward, a dramatic gasp escaping her.[color=slateblue] “Oh, my dear Lord Wimsley!” [/color] she cried, stumbling purposefully, grabbing Mathias's arm to steady herself, and giving the impression of being utterly shocked by the entire ordeal. [color=slateblue]“What a brave soul you are! To continue enduring such, such... hair-raising moments!”[/color] She threw her head back, one hand clutching dramatically at her chest.

[color=slateblue]“Oh, you must forgive Lord Wimsley!” [/color] she insisted, voice laced with mock sympathy. [color=slateblue]“He’s been under such stress lately—why, his valet told me just last week that the poor man has been losing hair by the day! Why, it’s a wonder he has any left at all!” [/color] 

Satisfied that the situation had been sufficiently derailed, Ariella gave Mathias's arm a gentle pat, turning back toward the old woman with a bright, if somewhat tipsy, smile.[color=slateblue] “Now, if you’ll excuse us, my dear lady,”[/color] she said sweetly,[color=slateblue] “I must steal Lord Wimsley away. We’ve pressing matters to discuss. Hair... loss and all.”[/color]

Before the old woman could react, Ariella tugged Mathias away, moving them away from the heavily awkward encounter. Her back straightened as she side-eyed behind her casually seeing if the elder woman was following or staying. 

Turning her attention back to Mathias, Ariella’s arm remained loosely interlocked with his, her body vibrating with barely contained amusement. She tried to suppress the bubbling laughter that threatened to spill over, but a soft giggle escaped her lips. Her eyes darted around the garden, checking to see if any guests had noticed their absurd little escape.

[color=slateblue]" Mathias?"[/color] she whispered her voice light with mischief. She leaned down slightly, tilting her head to peer up at him from beneath the brim of his oversized top hat, her fiery red hair brushing against his sleeve. Her gaze sparkled with playful curiosity as she raised a brow. [color=slateblue]“Do you often attend these events dressed as an old man?”[/color]

With each word, Ariella’s voice trembled with the effort of holding back another giggle. Her lips quirked up in a grin, and she could feel the tremor of laughter bubbling in her chest. The absurdity of the situation—the fake mustache, the frantic escape—was almost too much to bear. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep a straight face, but the corners of her mouth kept twitching with the overwhelming urge to laugh.
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