[center][h1][b][color=9354FF]Fritz "Ryn" Hendrix[/color][/b][/h1][color=9354FF]Time:[/color] Sola 28 1739; Nighttime Hours
[color=9354FF]Location:[/color] Castle Dining Room
[color=9354FF]Interaction(s)/Mention(s):[/color] [@FunnyGuy] [@Potter] [@samreaper] [@princess] [/center]
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[color=salmon]“You’re welcome to get in where you fit in if you find yourself bored! Duke Gideon’s section. We all know the Edwards family can throw a good party but they are rarely the lifeblood of it! Hahahahahahahaha!”[/color]

Ryn had not the foggiest notion whether that statement was true or false, but he favoured Duke Vikena with a courteous smile nonetheless. [color=9354FF]“Thank you for your gracious offer, Your Grace. It is rather a pity we have not been seated in closer proximity this evening. I should have greatly enjoyed the privilege of dining and conversing with all of you.”[/color]

As he spoke, a thought that had been patiently waiting in some corner of his mind suddenly stepped forward and cleared its throat. [color=9354FF]“What if we arrange to have dinner together sometime?”[/color] he suggested, addressing all three now. [color=9354FF]“Something a bit less…”[/color] he gestured vaguely at the elaborate banquet, [color=9354FF]“structured than this.”[/color]

It would be splendid, he thought, to become better acquainted in surroundings where one was not perpetually on guard against sudden arrest or brutal assault—whether they be cutting remarks, physical confrontation, or those subtle political maneuvers that left one’s standing in tatters. A drama-free meal.

One could hope.

[color=lightpink]“Very well, thank you and yourself?”[/color]

To Ms. Persephone’s verbal handshake, he replied, [color=9354FF]“Excellent! … But.”[/color] Ryn took a more casual tone. [color=9354FF]“You don’t need to force yourself to speak like that if you’d rather not, Olivia.”[/color]

Judging by the strength of his grip and need for secrecy, Ryn suspected Mr. Kazumin had neglected to mention what transpired earlier that day to Ms. Persephone and the duke. 

Either that or the man had a predilection for roughness. To each their own, Ryn supposed, though he preferred a gentler touch himself.

[color=9354FF]“Well, if you walked away with your head attached and appetite intact, I’d chalk that up as a victory.”[/color] He tried to picture how that conversation must have unfolded. When an opening presented itself, Ryn asked. [color=9354FF]“What did His Majesty want with you?”[/color]

—[i]Fireflies.[/i] Ryn’s expression softened at the charming name and sentiment behind it. Putting a name to their intrepid little band of truth-seekers made it feel like they were truly in this together; camaraderie forged in the face of darkness.

Of course, the pedantic voice in his head had to note that fireflies could not burn anything, despite the name.Their glow was a product of bioluminescence, a process in which a chemical reaction within the organism produces light without significant heat—a property known as ‘cold light.’

[i]An imaginary Peter scowled at him in disgust. “You couldn’t just let that go could you, Boss? No one gives a rat’s arse about hot or cold beetle bums.”

[color=9354FF]Fair point. Though technically speaking, it was the abdomen, not the rear, where the special lantern organ was located.[/color]

The lines on mind-Peter’s scowl deepened. “Boss. What did I [b]just[/b] say?”[/i]

[color=9354FF]“I think it’s brilliant.”[/color] Ryn said aloud, nodding at Mr. Kazumin’s handiwork. [color=9354FF]“An inspiring motto, too. ‘Fireflies seeking to burn the truth out.’ Very catchy.”[/color]

At least, he thought so until Mr. Kazumin let out a rather manic giggle, a glint of something wild sparking in his eyes. Ryn wondered if he had handed a pyromaniac black powder at the masquerade ball the Damiens hosted. 

[color=9354FF]“If no one is strongly opposed to it, I think we can make it official.”[/color] Which reminded him… His gaze drifted, searching. [color=9354FF]“Speaking of, did something happen to Lady Charlotte? She seemed upset.”[/color][/color]