Tycho was fully out of mourning so was now able to enjoy the season in earnest without much judgement. For impropriety when it came to mourning, that was. He was sure people would still judge him for other things as they were wont to do. Tycho would be lying if he didn't have a sort of perverse delight in it.

He had decided to dress as a raven even though only Ford was liable to understand the deeper reason why. A black raven's mask adorned his face, it's jewels glinting under the flickering light of the jack-o-lanterns. As he arrived, someone stepped back onto his foot. And, well, he would recognize that body anywhere if he was being quite honest.

"Ford! I thought I would have to hunt through masks to find you," he said as if he wouldn't be able to pick out potential Fords by body, mannerisms and movements alone by now. "Are you all right?" Williams had been floating beside him but had shot off after one of his ghostly paramours immediately.