The Convict made her way to the shower quickly, not wanting to risk being 'weak' in the open with Loretta so very close. Once in the bathroom she disrobes , turns the shower on, and steps into the hot stream of water.  She rests her forehead against the tile walls that surround her. She replays the events of the dream over and over in her mind. -DID- she want Loretta in such a manner? Well quite clearly she did, but there was no way in hell the ghoul would<i>ever</i>be interested in scum like her. No no no...people like Emma did not deserve to loving embrace of those that were 'civilized' or 'decent' folk. Maybe that's why she felt so damn connected to the crazy little pink haired freak? Neither of them would -EVER- change enough to fit in with 'normal' society.<br/><br/>It didn't matter to Emma. She saw some fucked up camaraderie with the ghoul, admired her spirit. Would be damn hard not to feel something for her. Ghoul or not, it meant jack shit in her eyes. Some of the best people she'd ever met were ghouls. Loretta was only be a drop in the bucket.  Far as Emma was concerned there were two kinds of people in the world. The kind that did 'good' because that was the right thing to do, and those that did 'good' to further there own agenda. She sure as shit fell in to the second category, however in her eyes her 'agenda' was damn pious.  Ridding the world of the tyranny of organized factions would hopefully lead to a brighter wastelands altogether.  In Emma skewed view, NCR , and the Brotherhood were just as bad , and in often times far worse then the small Raider organizations.<br/><br/>They both wanted a 'better' world. Loretta was just far more ....realistic about it. Emma sighs and goes about cleaning her self, shaking the memories from her mind as her hand trails down her stomach in a way much like Loretta's did in her dream. She shakes her head roughly to push the images from her mind, steps out of the shower and grabs a towel.  She stares at her self in the mirror for a moment as she dries off.  Even in her eyes she's getting skinny. She cringes as her eyes make contact with the scarred skin of the right half of her body. God-damnit did she -hate- the scars.  The rope burn on her neck was damn near the worst, the ones around her wrists, a close second, and the entire bubbling mess of flesh from her right cheek downwards was a low third.  It wasn't that she was...self conscious visually, or had some hackney idea of 'beauty' . She knew she was fugly,  and that was alright by her.  But ..the reminders weren't fun .<br/><br/>She warps her self in the over sized towel , runs a hand through her now limp mohawked hair, and opens the door.<span style="color: blue">"I'ma raid yr' closet again."</span>She insists as she pads quickly towards the closet- shockingly modest around the ghoul.  She hopes that isn't misread as ..something else. She'd hate for Loretta to think she was uninterested simply because she tried to show a bit of modesty.   She goes trudging through the closet,<span style="color: blue"> "I'll trade ya whatever i take fr' whats in my room... Just..don't feel like going back in there.." </span>But she -had- to for the caps.   Emma picks out a pair of thick leather and rubber boots, thick olive green 'military' issue pants, and tight fitting tank top , and a combat vest, and exits the closet, rubbing her limp hair with her towel.<span style="color: blue">"So um...where the hell do we go to grab a bite?"</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>