As Emma continues to pour the Abraxo cleaner in to discarded tin cans, she shakes her head.<span style="color: blue">“ Let that be a lesson to you. Reading is bad. “ </span>She is kidding of course,as the only reason she learned to wire explosives in the first place was from countless tattered books. Emma understood explosives, as they were often like people.  Combine two caustic personalities together and watch the fireworks, but ease the two together..and who knows what might happen. Shit..look at her an Loretta. Two bullheaded jaded pain in the ass wastelanders, pushed together in the right way and..well. Who knew what would happen with them in the long run.  At least with chemicals she knew how they'd react, this was as solid a reason as any in the convicts mind to favor explosives over people. She could control when a bomb went off...not when a person would turn on her , or try to kill her.<br/><br/>She can understand Lorettas defense of Bright, but it doesn’t make it go down any easier.<span style="color: blue">“That’s bullshit tho..about bright .” </span>She  stops what she’s doing and looks at her friend.  For the first time in the entire time Loretta had known Emma she looked offended.<span style="color: blue"> “Don't excuse his attitude. I’ma a lot of shit,” </span>She slurs her words, “<span style="color: blue">But I ain’t no fuckin’ bigot.” </span>She puts the box of soap down, and turns to the thick gauge wire. She pulls a pocket knife out of her belt , and starts to strip the wires.<span style="color: blue"> “I mean..I show up with you,and I’m putting my ass on the line rightnow. I ain’t sleepin’ or –THAT- drunk, I’m tryin ta help an that ….moon-flyin fuck is gonna give ME attitude!?” </span><br/><br/>Emma starts to pull individual lengths of wire out, twists them, and melts the edges of the plastic together with a lighter. She then plunges the wires into each can while she starts to pack sand from the ground on top of them. This was Emma’s ‘art’ or as close to one as she came.  She looks up to Loretta while she’s taking the excess cans and starting to fill those too with dirt and rocks.<span style="color: blue"> “I dunno..I mean. I hate people too but I didn’t hate yr ass when you tried to help me. “</span>she smirks and lets a dopey smile cross her lips as she looks at her friend,<span style="color: blue">“You almost broke my damn knee cap, and still conclusion not drawn! I mean i still lov..er...I like you alright. I mean ta' say i put up with yr' snoring ass.”  </span>She  tries to cover her mistep, but the liquor has already made her look a fool. She  tries to change the subject,<span style="color: blue"> “I guess everyone isn’t as fuckin’ awesome as I am. If the Vatican were still around I'd suggest they canonize me. Our lady of perpetual ker-splodie..”</span><br/><br/>She continues to work silently  in the evening air.  She looks around the empty field, the legion fires can be seen off in the distance.   This was a hell of a ‘strategic advantage’ –as in , it wasn’t.   She wished sometimes Fanya, or Sue and Becca had stayed with them on their adventures. Hell , even Ranger-fuck would be helpful in this situation.  There’s a heavy solemn weight to the night air, and for the first time since New Vegas , Emma is scared.<span style="color: blue">“We likely ain’t making it out of this. Are we? Two against an army, I mean even fr' us those are shit odds.” </span>She slurs a bit while she draws little symbols into the dirt.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>