Re: quicklog: connie and cris awkward blind date
[Cris had been dancing longer than he'd been walking, huh? Sounds funny, but it's true. He'd get bounced along on laps, or taken to the table to stand on it like a stage in miniature, him holding onto fingers to keep himself upright, 'cause that was the kinda thing that happened when your ma was a dance instructor and your sisters tended toward overexcitement and you were all Cuban. The only people Cris had ever met who didn't like dancing were gringos.—He wondered brief who'd thought using reggae was a good choice for a game where you didn't dance, you stomped, huh? Seemed almost blasphemous. But, he didn't say nothing about it. The music had a different meaning for Connie, he could see that. She seemed a lil bit better as the beat went on.
She was right though. This wasn't dancing. But, even without his sensea rhythm, Cris was a cop too, and after that, an athlete. He had good controla his body, even if all he was doing was stamping his foot down real hard on an arrow.—He shot Connie an incredulous look.] What's wrong with it if it is? [He smiled at her, then he shrugged.] Nah. Dancin's 'bout more than that. [Stomp, stomp.] It's expression, huh? [He missed an arrow, this all being a lot less interpretive than following directions (literally), and lifted his brows.] Sometimes it's just showin' off. [A huff.] You didn't like the school dances?