Nick's only here to observe tonight - no revolutionary activities planned, honest. As far as most people should suspect, she's just another ordinary citizen in a tux wandering through the crowds, chatting with people she knows from the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey, occasionally stopping for a dance, if asked. She's been meaning to check in on Hank anyway, but this loudmouth complaining about kids today is obnoxious as fuck and needs to be shut down, so she has exactly zero guilt about interrupting their conversation.

"Y'know," she says, placing a mask of saccharine-sweetness over the black domino she's already wearing, all smiles and her best customer service voice, "where I'm from, there was a great prophet by the name of Aaliyah who once famously said, 'age ain't nothing but a number.' Maybe think on that for a sec before you start runnin' your mouth again."

Verbal takedown complete, Nick turns to Hank. "I believe there is a refill calling my name at that other bar over there," she says, pointing to the station on the other end of the room. "Care to escort me?"