"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Violent-Medic
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Clarice started bouncing a little the moment that they were back on the floor. Music was good. Dancing was even better, even if she couldn't dance well.

She took Conrad's hand the moment it was offered, giving him a shrug at the same time.

“Not really. Like I said. He's kind of a dick. I suppose there's bigger dicks. No pun intended. I think Kizi could do better, but… well, I'll wait until a time that isn't a dance to say that. There are better times to argue, right?”

Clarice tilted her head as she bopped along to the music. She'd thought she was on a similar wavelength about Beaks—Conrad hadn't seemed exactly enthusiastic about the Bond comments—but maybe she'd been off with it. Weirder things had happened.

“I mean, if you want to go back we can. Though maybe after a dance or two. Be a bit weird to just 180 immediately.”
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Tiny Vessels · At the Dance