<div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3rb4pAg651r7wrq1o1_250.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Chloe M. Mallory<br/><strong>Place within Hierarchy:</strong>Elizabeth's Talent<br/><strong>Role:</strong>Act/ Trapeze Artist<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Outside Erin's room --->moved to dining car<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>This (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=51680918)<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Erin, Open<br/><hr/><br/>Now, more than ever, Chloe was firm in her belief that Erin was the symbol of drama queens. Instead of merely showing gratitude that a person displayed concern for her wretched life, she lasted out like a rabid animal. The girl really needed to learn manners rather than always making a bunch of unnecessary noise at every second as a cry for attention. She took a step back when Erin invaded her space since it was one of her pet peeves. Having people she did not know well or disliked close to her made her feel claustrophobic and ill at ease.<br/><br/>“Well, we agree on one thing since I truly did not wish to spend another second in your company.” Her next statement caused a light laugh to escape her lips as understanding and sympathy shone in her bright blue eyes. “So is that the reason why you refuse to wear dresses? Allow me to enlighten you, Erin. Women of the fifties are to be admired not sweep under a carpet as if they are parasites. They were hardworking and stronger than they would appeared. And they managed to do it all in these dresses of blues and yellows. It was also a period where women, who you underestimate, fought for the rights of their sex and other races in frills and bows. So I feel pretty good looking like a woman from the fifties since they look much better than women like<em>you</em>who dare to look down your nose at them as if you were some type of perfect example of femininity."<em>When all you are is a disgrace.</em><br/><br/>She took a deep breath to calm herself as her body was nearly shaking with rage while her fingers tightened into little fists. “If you truly possessed any sense, you will understand women, even those like you, are being victimized without even being aware of it. So you can dress in those unflattering shorts and ridiculous excuse for a shirt, but the fact remains the same.” A frown marred Chloe’s features after being touched by the woman, and she promptly wiped away the offense. Erin's last words were meaningless to her. Then, the door was slammed in her face. A light tremor went down her body as she forced herself to appear calm rather than succumb to the desire to kick down the door.<br/><br/>"Idiot."<br/><br/>Quietly, she made her way down the hallway with fire dancing in her eyes. More than anything, she needed a comforting cup of tea. She did not look at anyone other than Jim when she entered the food car. With her breakfast ready for her, she sat down in the furthest seat from everyone else. If only she could have a paper to read this morning rather than the noise of the train.