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She's already thinking about tabula recta and autokey ciphers and other such fun, the card is nothing more than a passing fancy- but she flips it up and over and glances at the underside as she puts her glass down on the table.

It has a C worked into the back. Do you pick it up?

"Meet us there when you're ready. At this point, we might have half the party in on the fun." He half turned, and vanished, appearing elsewhere.

"I'm Pads.". He stuck out a hand, looking for a handshake.

"Well, it's good to see someone here knows what they're dealing with. But if nobody bothers to step out of the first room, well, most of the party has gone to waste!" She tipped her head forward, her voice lowering in pitch as it did when she spoke seriously. "And I so hate for my efforts to be wasted, darling."

Well. If she wanted to deliver veiled threats, she was doing rather well.

Their sleeves did not stop rustling. "I beg your pardon, and yours as well, whoever you are, but the fact that you're the one offering reinforcements isn't exactly inspiring trust."

An intervention was clearly called for here. That, of course, meant walking up to him and booping his nose. Or, well, his beak.

"I noticed you looking for companions - something about not wanting to walk out without an army, I believe? - and thought you might like a tick of assistance." Her smile was in no way comforting.

Their sleeves seemed to ruffle slightly, and they shifted back a few steps. "Uh, hello," they said, wondering what the Hostess was planning.

But they nodded, despite that. "Yeah... yeah, sure. I'll join you guys for your... um... exploring. Lead the way."

Oh, that was precious. She ambled over and poked Mister Turkey in the arm.

Springs stood near the refreshments table, crème brûlée in his hand, deep in thought.

He wondered how was it that he ended up eating desserts at an absolutely ungogly hour in this life. What did he do to have the right to enjoy such a rich treat at this time? It was all too overwhelming for him. He needed to find a place to sit down, to figure out what else he could do at this party, other than eating all the food in sight.

((Alright, I'm back. I was occupied for a bit. Time to see what else this party offers!))

The Musician looked around, and then back at her companions.

"I've seen ciphers like this before," she said, "but I could use some space to spread out papers for the decipherment. Could I get you to accompany me? I'd... rather not be sitting alone and distracted in a quiet corner."

She nodded towards a well-lit but only sparsely occupied corner of the room, and the tables therein.

"Considering the fact that she could resurrect us just as easily--who knows?" Once again, she sipped her cider by reflex and, once again, began coughing violently. "I'm the Crimson Woman, by the way," she croaked after her coughing fit was over.

To the Musician, he said, "I don't know! It's addressed to you."

Rod turned to look at the Crimson Woman as she spoke. "Gee, I hope not . . . You have a frighteningly good point. But the Hostess wouldn't do something like that, would she?"

"Wait, it this a murder mystery masquerade?" she interrupted. She glanced around the room, shifting from foot to foot. "Because considering the setting and the, er," she coughed, "authorial resources, shall we say, that we have at our disposal, utter realism isn't quite out of the question, if you know what I mean."

He tapped his cane on the ground. "Happy birthday, and hello." He took a glance at the table, hoping to find another card. Magic was always fun. Not seeing any, he turned to Sapphire. "The Ghast over there and I are planning a bit of exploring. Care to join us?"

"Are you sure you're all right?" The Musician asked, taking the note. She glanced at the code, and then back at Time.

"How mysterious," she said. "I don't suppose you happen to know what this is about?"

Scanning the crowd, she picked out the Garnet Ghast. Perfect! Taking the Cryptographer by the arm, she dragged him over with at least some semblance of grace.

"Yeah, hey, hi again—" He saw the Crimson Woman. "And hello, also, at you, hi there! Um. Okay. So, Musician! Um, you remember—okay, hang on. You, you dropped this, earlier. Okay? This is yours, that you dropped. By accident. And then I found it . . . by very accident, also . . . and kept it, but for you, because it was an accident, my taking, of the thing that is yours, that you dropped, wholly accidental. But now it's back, to you, yours again, where it should be, and always should have been, because you shouldn't have dropped it, that thing, that happened. So, here!" He held the slip of paper out to the Musician, watching the Crimson Woman out of the corner of his eye holes.

"Oh my gosh, this . . . the Musician was the person I was talking to when I . . . when I took the . . ." He mask-palmed. "This wasn't even for me! Thank you for the help, guys, but I need to get this back to the Musician. She's probably got her own puzzle she's trying to solve, and I got in the way . . ."

((Sheepishness is true out of character, also.))

"Very," they said, looking over their shoulder at the White Wolf. They put their phone away, wrote a quick translation on the scrap of paper with a pen they'd pulled out of a pocket, and showed it to the other two. "What do you make of this?"

"That being said, I'm afraid I don't know many of the people here. Could you introduce me to someone?".

"Interesting conversation?" The White Wolf settled into the group easily, leaning slightly on the cane. "We cracked the code once at least."

"Or, okay, never mind," she said as a gender-unspecific person pocketed both of them. She had a quick mental debate as to whether she should go after them or not, but ultimately decided against doing that in favor of more cake. "I'll see you around, then," she said to her clockwork companion, and wandered off into the midst of the party, nibbling absently on a cupcake.