Sadly, sneaking into the masquerade ball had been the highlight of Halwyn's night, because after Kerr had drunkenly stumbled through the crowd and slammed into some pregnant lady, the crowd had started to disperse and he'd realized the event was effectively over. Unwilling to leave so soon after having arrived, he'd stayed for as long as he was served blood and there was someone to talk with. Eventually, though, he'd been cut off and instructed to depart through the room's main entrance by one of the waitstaff. Despite how prettily he'd pouted at the guy, he'd insisted the party was over and it was time for him to leave... Like everyone else had nearly ten minutes ago. He'd looked around the room and found that he was indeed, one of the last guests remaining.
"Oh," he'd said, crestfallen, and the server had rolled his eyes at him - as if to say 'yeah, you're the only loser who stuck around'. For that, he'd slammed his still full glass on the server's tray, then shoved past him, intentionally leaning his shoulder into him as he went. The server and his tray went flying. Petty, sure, but it made him feel better.
The pleased smile hidden behind his mask broadened into a grin as he made his way out of the ballroom and into the main part of the hotel, slipping past security detail as easily as he had when he first came in. Maybe it had to do with them being less observant since everyone going past them was leaving, but in his head, he attributed to his ninja-like skills.
He made it outside with no issue, and as he walked toward the Capital Building with stories of Kerr's humiliation and the murmurs of discontent he'd overheard waltzing through his head, he discarded first his mask, then his cloak. He would've tossed his shoes too, because they'd pinched his feet throughout the night and blisters hurt, regardless how quickly they healed, but so too did stepping on glass. And downtown, there were plenty of places to find broken glass.
So he arrived at his door with his shoes still on his feet and his hat at a decidedly jaunty angle, thinking about how he'd start the conversation with Lazarus. Of course, he wouldn't mention that the party had been lame. He'd talk about Kerr's embarrassment and mention all the free blood and dancing and beautiful costumes and... okay. He'd have to do a lot of elaborating if he wanted to convince the ancient he'd made a bad decision when he'd chose the couch over the party, but he was more than capable of-
His thoughts abruptly shifted, because he'd picked up a familiar earthy scent that nearly made him drop the key he'd just fished from his pocket. Sachi? It had to be, but it couldn't! She wasn't due for another... Wait. When was she due again? She'd been overseas for a painfully long time, but he'd lost track of the exact number of days she'd been gone. Two weeks? Two months? Was she back early? Well, regardless, he'd told her he'd pick her up from the airport. Why hadn't she texted or called him so he could do that? He absently patted his other pocket, expecting to find his phone there, but remembered it hadn't fit.
Well, fuck.
Apologies already on the tip of his tongue, he hurriedly opened the door and then made a beeline for the dryad half-breed as soon as he rested eyes on her. "Sachi! You're here!" He scooped her up and stepped back from the couch to swing her around in a circle (if her legs had been any longer, she would've smacked Lazarus in the face with her feet), the feather in his hat seeming like it might try to fly away. When he came to a stop, he clutched her to his chest rather than putting her back on the ground and craned his neck back to look at her searchingly. "I left my phone here 'cause it wouldn't fit and I didn't think you'd call anyway because it's early still, right? You're back early?"
