[To her first comment, Cain elicits a small snort of laughter. He'll have to take her word for that, although it's yet to deter him from wanting to try it. The foxtrot. Since she's made the comment already, and it's clear dancing holds some value — in knowledge, familiarity, or otherwise — to Peggy. So he'll let it rest for now, but he won't forget to pester her later. Or at least do his own research into how it works.]

Even us. Fuckin' bizarre, I mean, I've flown in spaceships and been on space stations but never had something like this in my body. [He reaches up to tap the healed scar at the back of his here where the implant is tunneled inside.] Or the blue thing in our chests, whatever it is.

[He knows someone once tried to cut it out and was not successful. Whether it's a piece of scientific engineering or actual magic, he's not the person to ask.

From somewhere inside, he hears his name called. It soon builds into a drunken chant of Cooltalk invitees who have noticed his marked absence. Cain sighs, takes back the vape pen, and rubs his face.]

Should get back. Already feels like I need another drink.