Emma winces sharply as the butt of the shotgun makes contact with her knee cap.<span style="color: blue">“The FUCK you do that for?”   </span><br/><br/>It’s almost comical as she knows she was instructed to ‘be quiet’.  However, Emma had  a real issue with authority.<span style="color: blue"> “You’re either a softy or yr’ fucking brilliant.” </span>Emma beams,<span style="color: blue">“I can scamper along slow as hell with a busted knee, but shoot it..and you’re carrying me.“ </span>She laughs, antagonizing her savior even more,<span style="color: blue"> “Now judging on yr skills with a car, and a gun, I’d say you’re likely rather dim. Cause' no ones that good a shot with an IQ bigger then their shoe size.  SO- I got my money placed on ‘yr soft’. Pays ten ‘ta one., how’m I doing?”</span>She waggles her eye brows .<br/>She would rub her knee if her hands were free.  She watches the ghoul drink from the canteen, her own throat parched from days of neglect and capture – with all the nonsense pouring out of her mouth, she simply could not ask/beg/demand a drink.  Emmas pride would likely be the death of her, and that was fine as far as she was concerned.<span style="color: blue"> “The Powder Gangers are a bunch of lying fucks. “</span>she starts,<span style="color: blue"> “You believe everything those assholes tell you? If so I ‘ve got some swamp land outside o’ fuckin Vegas I’d be willing to sell you. Cheap.” </span>She continues to mock, the blow to her knee only fueling the outpouring.<span style="color: blue">  “Guess it would do absolutely NO good to tell you the truth of the situation as mercs aren’t  really concerned  with silly little shit like ‘morality’ or right and wrong. But my ass is on the line and until you cut my fucking tongue out you're going to listen to every word I have to say.” </span><br/><br/>She turns waggling her wrists at her savior she tries to extend her wrist out, faint lettering is  visable.<span style="color: blue">  “Prisoner 8757. Was transferred to  NCR correctional facility two years ago.  Helped those stupid fucks get the explosives needed to overthrow the prison. “</span>she laughs,<span style="color: blue"> “Shocker that fuckin’ prisoners would lie and betray ya isn’t it?”   </span>She grumbles<span style="color: blue">, “I get screwed, I take my revenge. And they’re so pissy that I beat them at their own game, that yr’ here, with a pocket full of lies, and orders to catch the Turncoat.”</span>she shakes her head,<span style="color: blue"> “I can’t imagine what slander they fed you …Did I steal from em’ this time? Rape their horses and ride off on their collective mother!?” </span><br/><br/>She is clearly wound up, she’d spent months trying to escape the grasp of the powerful organization, only to continually be brought down by hired mercs<span style="color: blue">. “Ya’ ever  been the NCR correctional? Was a co-ed prison ya’ know.  Split of course. Next time yr’ there, ask yr’self  where ‘er all the women now?” </span>She laughs dismally, a caustic laugh that contains no actual humor in it.<br/><br/>Emma maneuvers in front of the strange woman who saved her, her brows furrowed, she swallows hard.<span style="color: blue"> “I ain’t going back there. Yr’ gonna have ta’ kill me er’ I’ll do it myself. I’m not. NOT going back to that.”</span>She doesn’t allude  to anything more happening, she doesn’t have to. Any idiot could draw a conclusion after that diatribe.<br/><br/>Emma turns once the gentleman Loretta motioned too reaches the pair.  Emma was..leery around most men. Considering this one had ‘questions’ for her..she just became more on edge.   She fought back the only way she knew how- with her scathing wit.<span style="color: blue">  “ HEYA ROOMY!”</span>She grins overly excited,<span style="color: blue"> “Touch me and I’ll fucking kill you!” </span>She chirps equally as happy. An odd statement from someone tied at the wrists.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>