Creepin' it real

Riana Maren

Scaremas

Unlike almost every single sane person on the planet, Riana had made the very conscious decision to fly all the way from the mountain to the capital. One, she did not need legal entanglements slowing her down; being part of a dark guild tended to cause certain issues along the way and Riana absolutely was not up for this. Two, the solitude was preferable to the scientist. It was infinitely better to be in the dark alone rather than having to deal with other people. Three, this was not her idea. Riana had been told incredibly specifically by the Queen that participation in this festival was mandatory, and that failure to follow this directive was punishable by... death, probably. That bit had been sort of vague, like most things. She had not specified why. Maybe it was for the purposes of socialising. Maybe she just really liked the holiday a lot. There was no room to question the Queen, and that was the end of the matter. She was dutiful, if nothing else.

So, Riana had flown in her battlesuit. The crimson glow of magitech particles formed a cloak with which Riana could hide herself, giving her the shroud with which she could arrive in the capital undisturbed. This was enough for her.

According to the Queen, an outfit was also required. This outfit was black, like her soul - but the gold filigree, the tights and the lace, as well as the overcoat, it was at least stylish enough to let her feel like it was a worthwhile outfit. She felt like a black rose, if nothing else. Actually, that was entirely a good description for it.

As the Fury touched down and shimmered away into nothingness, Riana looked around. She knew one of the two that she was expected to meet; she and Killua had performed missions recently. Conversely, the other one, she did not know. No idea what to look for, but then again, she'd work it out - she was smart enough to solve that sort of problem without incident. The guild maintained dossiers - she could sort out how to find the quarry in question. Kismet. The irony of the word fate being used was not lost on Riana.

So- one giant sword later, that had to be her.

"Kismet?" asked an entirely clipped voice, sharp. Arms folded behind her back, Riana maintained a perfectly passive, if distant, mask of a facial expression.

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Riana Maren

Scaremas

Before long, the three of them ended up at the punch table; pun obviously intended when it came to Kismet's primary choice of combat abilities, for Riana was not here to argue with the fact that she looked strong, sword in hand obviously notwithstanding as a choice of weapon. Truthfully, she looked like a striker, nto a swordsman. There was a certain focus on biceps and core muscles for those who walked the path of the fist and all of that was very much on display in that outfit. Well, it was not an issue overall. She did not mind. More correctly, she did not care. Caring was for people who gave a damn about other humans.

That said, the drink before her was tempting.

"Well. It could not hurt," Riana stated plainly, before she reached for the ladle to pour herself a cup of the punch that had already turned one of her fellow guildmates' hair ivory white. The scientist took a sip, then followed it with an incredible gulp; the drink carried the absolute punch line of alcohol, tinted with a mixture of a fruity - mostly berry - overtone. It was not unpleasant, at the very least. While Riana was in no way a routine consumer of alcohol-- it dulled the mind, which was something that under many normal circumstances was incredibly abhorrent to her-- she did understand that in social settings there was a time and a place for doing so. Such being the case, the redhead finished her drink.

In moments, what were typically bright, beautiful auburn locks had taken on a deathly pale. In front of her eyes was conjured a mirror - reflective enough to display her hair as if she had a floating camera following her actions, she could see the change that she had already undergone. It did rather accentuate her outfit, she thought immediately. The juxtaposition of black and white most definitely did assist with the way she had chosen to dress. Perhaps the Queen was right in this decision after all. Note to self - listen to these kinds of things more.

"Killua, were you to sample this drink, I daresay you would go unaffected," she added dryly. Already possessed of such hair, it had nowhere for him to go should he come under the spell of the same thing. At least he could have a drink of this and not worry about that. She did not comment on whether he drank it, underage or not; she cared not for the demesne of those who set puny mortal rules. Those rules were beneath her benefit. In the meantime, she looked around. The presence of so many for this festival was a concern. Riana did not like crowds. It was far too easy for an assassin to slide a hidden blade between the ribs, all things being equal; there was no love for such a thing when the domain of killers and murderers was theirs. All things being equal, Riana could have easily seen Kil dispatched for such a task; perhaps Kismet, were she not so straightforward. Riana could have achieved the objective with certain parts of her arsenal, especially now that she had some new tricks that Kil had yet to experience firsthand.

Gods, imagine if that needed to happen.

Expectantly, she looked at Kil, wondering if he too would take a drink.

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Riana Maren

Scaremas

Well, if this was the thing to do, then so be it. Riana would not argue about going out and doing the thing that was part of the tradition, because any argument brooked would result in the immediate wrath of the Queen. She was at least partly certain that she had eyes and ears everywhere, to the point that if she did not participate actively in each activity set before them, then there was going to be punishment. Not for anyone else, mind. Specifically for her, because as was hinted at more than once 'you need to go outside and play with the other children'. This was, apparently, important to do, so Riana had absolutely no choice but to do the thing that she was being told to do - otherwise she'd be set on fire, or something. The actual punishment part, if there was one, was incredibly vague - also an apt description for their Queen on a bad day. This, coupled with the fact that she loathed people at best, meant that there was one kind of unwilling participant in all of these shenanigans. In fact, Riana probably wouldn't have turned up without that kind of support.

Regardless, here she goes, here goes speed racer, she's a candy-taking demon on wheels.

Send Riana to gather anything and she'll totally do it. In this case, she was going to have to acquire candy from the locals in order to progress with the main quest, which was an unfortunate side-effect of being in an area with so many quest markers. Needless to say there was going to have to be

-- Vital signs spiking. Preparing for immediate regulation. --

The voice under her skin went ignored for now.

Then, Riana was off down the street - exchanging a word with the occasional passer-by who greeted her first. Word is in fact accurage, given that the word tended to be 'hi'. While someone was fighting children to acquire the treats, Riana was just... talking. Apparently, this was the viable strategy to find success, so there you go - it was within about twenty minutes that Ri had picked up enough candy to sate her thirst. Or hunger. Hunger was probably a better word for it at this point.

But hey. Free stuff.

So she came back to the group.

"So, turns out, these people will just throw stuff at you," she indicated to the group. It was kind of a shock, honestly, that she'd managed to do so well with little to no prompting. Well, sometimes it was just a roll of the dice, wasn't it? "Anyone want this? I truthfully couldn't care much less about it. I do not possess a sweet tooth."

Pause. Reach into the bag for a peanut butter cup.

"Test of courage sounds good."

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Riana Maren

Scaremas

Without hesitation, the scientist thrust the bag that she was holding full of candy towards her combative compatriot. "Here. All yours. I have no need for this," Riana said as she finally managed to get some words sorted straight out of her brain. Kil was absolutely free to take the entire bag of candy off her hands, because her lack of sweet tooth indicated that she would find it a better home with someone else. Yet, it was strange. SOFI was monitoring the situation incredibly carefully, for Riana's vitals were still spiking drastically in ways they should not have. Was this an indication of alcohol? No; it seemed far more likely to be a contraindication if nothing else, for the depressant should not have been sufficient to do this, let alone anything else. The intelligence was working overtime to investigate the cause of the sudden change in its master, yet nothing seemed to be able to conflate the cause of the concern. What an oddity it was. Besides, she'd just given something to someone for free. She was probably sick at this point, real talk.

Anywho, Ri offered the man who tried to intimidate them with a little spooky blurb a withering glare. If her eyes could generate lasers, she would have just magitech shot the poor fool in the face.

For reference, no, Riana had yet to try that as an experiment, and it was not going to be on the list.

Into the maze the trio traipsed, and they were suddenly separated; Kismet took a moment to absolutely vanish without prompting from the other two. An emerald glance around and Riana could not find her anywhere in eyesight. By the time she performed a full three hundred and sixty degree rotation, the scientist noted that Killua was now no longer within visual range.

"SOFI, status. Where are they?"

-- Targets One and Two are confirmed within the maze. --

"Helpful. Narrow that down."

-- Negative. Magical interference confirmed. --

Sigh. "Great."

Instinctively, Riana reached for the doorknob of the now-conveniently-placed doorway that had appeared in front of her in the span of her searchign for her allies. As she opened it--

There was an acrid stench on the air. It was so thick that it was almost palpable, leaving what felt like a powdery residue on the tongue. The dryness in her mouth that followed, as well as the gut-wrenching change, showed that Riana knew without having to be told what was in this room.

Here lays Riana Maren. A dozen of them. Murdered brutally, and each in different ways. One, her tongue cut out, before having her throat slit. One suffocated by the hangman's noose. One yet still with her chest cavity caved in completely by blunt force impact and her heart yanked forcefully from her ribcage as little more than a gruesome trophy.

You get the idea.

Her eyes shut, Riana could not help but take one deep breath as she tried everything in her arsenal to keep herself steady. Riana was not accustomed to the concept of death, for she was not willing to consort with the truth of the afterlife or lack thereof; she refused death outright as an option for she did not wish it, ever, to be the final answer. In her mind, she could not, would not, die. She did not accept it. She willingly railed against it at every turn. Yet here, she was unable to avoid its indelible grasp, for every single image of her was little more than another way that her life ended. She wanted to vomit. Truly, she did. This was not the thing she wished to see.

Yet, the moment she took another step, the room vanished, only to reveal the end of the maze yet no others in sight. She passed the portal.

Pale, short of breath, and heart pouding so fast that it threatened to leap from its cage, Riana Maren was grateful that death's spectre had not claimed her.

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