The wine stains crimson on Caspar's pale blue blazer, eliciting a sharp frown from the already irritated Cylon. "Sure you didn't," he snaps, automatically pulling out his pocket square and dabbing at the soaked fabric.

"Hairy freak," he mutters to himself before raising his gaze. "You okay, Adia? He didn't get any of that on you, did he?"

...Adia?

She's gone. In the brief moment he checked on his suit, a group of party-goers cut between them, separating the couple. "Adia!" he calls out, alarmed. He pushes past people indiscriminately, searching the crowd for her flowery mask or the soft gray cardigan she had wrapped around her, but spots neither. Only those damn satyrs and an endless stream of masked strangers.

"Adia! Adia, where are you?"

~*~

"Excuse me. Excuse me, please!" Adia's words fall on deaf ears as she swept up with the flow of the crowd. She can't even reach for her PINpoint, afraid that it will be knocked out of her hands. Since when did the festival get so loud, so rambunctious? It makes her heart race as she searches for a way out of the swarm of people and satyrs alike.

Fortune strikes when she spots an open path. Uncaring where it leads, she takes it, hoping that with a little space and quiet, she'll be able to think about what to do next. She could try to text Caspar, or one of her friends who isn't at the festival, but perhaps the best thing to do is simply teleport home and then --

The path ends abruptly and she stumbles against some stairs. Looking up, she realizes that she has walked right up to the entrance of the Pantheon.