*Daric scooted into the airlock and stood to the side as Ellen filed in beside him. One, two, he counted as the air stabilized between the dome and the outside. Placing his mask up as he stepped inside, the immediate impression was that everyone was wasted. He just laughed and looked back at Ellen, cocking his brow up.* "<em>Seems the only way through this drunken mob is to dance a waltz of our own. Shall we?</em>" *He had better lines, but this one seemed to fit the mood at the moment. The man from earlier spun by with his bottle in a dancers embrace. Daric laughed and extended his hand to Ellen.* "<em>Maybe even a salsa or two could whip us through the throng and to my decidedly less wet shirt even faster.</em>"