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Gert couldn't actually believe that she'd agreed to this fiasco. It was not the party so much because she would have gone to that one way or the other. It was something of an interesting social experiment, which Gert had missed being able to take part in after the world had fallen. The outfit was what she should have protested, though, for the simple reason that it was inane and annoying. Not only that but it had managed to roll a few of her insecurities all up into one pink package. It had been hard to say no, though. She was still on her good behavior, after all.
Not wearing her glasses meant that she had effectively sealed off most of her observational skills unless she wanted to manifest Old Lace and let the dinosaur feed her information. It was a viable option, but she had decided against it. Chase would, of course, answer any questions she asked, but he wouldn't see exactly what she was looking for in the scene.
Gert was picking through the alcohol trying to decide what sort of poison Quinn would indulge in. One arm was wrapped around her waist in an attempt to hide what the midriff didn't. If it proved necessary to throw out a barrage of "likes" and hair flipping, she was going to need a drink.