Only a slight brightening of the coal of Rez's smoke betrays her inhalation. Other than that, the Chopper doesn't manifest any surprise.<br/><br/>Grinning, she lazily reaches up to take the handroll from the corner of her mouth; meets Warner's eye; then looks back at the smoke in her hand. Around the room, black-feathered bikers tense.<br/><br/>"Naw. No fuckin' head shots." Rez tosses her long braid back over her shoulder, hands never coming near the chopped and channeled shotgun balanced across her thighs. Some of the Vultures glance her way at this pronouncement.<br/><br/>"I fuckin'<em>swear</em>, Marco. I expect good shit when I come t'your place t'buy, but only took two puffs a-this an' th'world aroun' me<em>already </em>got stupider." She chuckles darkly.<br/><br/>She plants both hands on the fifty-gallon barrels to either side of the stack of tires she'd been half-sitting on, pushes herself up to plant her rump back solidly atop the steel-belted radials. It's an appropriate throne for the queen of speed and fire. And she does it all without losing or touching the shotgun in her lap.<br/><br/>And she clearly expects submission as she leans forward, dismissively waving her left hand in Marco's direction. "It don' work that way: he<em>made</em>his offer. I make<em>mine</em>. Th'pup clearly don' know th'game, don' confuse'm with optional rules." The coal of her blunt dances in the dim air of Amanuel's workshop as she drums the fingertips of the hand clenching it atop one barrel.<br/><br/>Sounds half-empty.<br/><br/>The Vulture Queen studies Warner, watching him trying to track the shadows in the big concrete cathedral, all the shapes of strange equipment Amanuel has lying around, and the big bulks of the vehicles. It's a terrible place to walk into and hope to be able to cover everyone from the door. But perhaps Warner has managed it. "Ya bad bargainer, War-ner. Y'already owe me y<em>'life</em>, an' y'come in wavin'<em>that</em>," she motions her chin towards the gun in his hands, "...Aroun' like I'm gonna be impressed."<br/><br/>"But I know<em>you</em>. Y'soft. And y'offerin' promises, pretty dreams, f'r somethin' hard an'<em>real</em>. Y'ain't Truth Strong, ta make a believer outta me, an'even he knows how t'be hard. Ya got that metal in y'hands...<em>Pretty</em>metal. Y'do make me believe y'know where t'find pretty..." She smiles like a cat looking at a canary whose cage-door it's just figured out how to unlock. "But f'r all th'iron y'ever had, y'ain' got no<em>power</em>. There's plenty power here...But none f'r you. Shoot me? Shoot him? Shoot th' children of th' sun? Y'never get outta<em>this</em>place alive."<br/><br/>"So this's th'<em> third</em>deal M'gonna offer ya. Ya blew off th'first two deals, an' look what it brought ya to. Best<em>take</em>this'n. Ya'll never get better." Rez licks her lips. "Y'precious 'Betty' stays<em>here</em>f'now. Y'take summa my people. Y'go show'm what ya<em>got</em>. They know what I want. They come back an' say it's worth th'trade, then y'get your pretty lady<em>back</em>for th'asking. An', jus' so there's no hard feelings, when it's over and ya<em>proven</em>ya ain' lyin' through yer teeth, we'll take ya at y'r worth, stand beside ya an' keep ya alive as long as we can."<br/><br/>She straightens, leaning back slightly and head held high.<br/><br/>"I swear it on th'Hammer's hawg<em>an' </em>on the jacket of Sonny Barger. Sun'll take ya as his own an' ya won' even need t'wear black feathers. So let it be."<br/><br/>She looks at Warner thoughtfully, watching his eyes shift as he tries to parse the dimness. He's got his gun out, sure, but there are too many Dogs, too many Vultures (admittedly, one has a bloody nose), and she assumes Amanuel maintains the sanctity of his concrete chapel by<em>some</em>means.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Reading a Person: Warner...And she fails with a 5 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?v=0). Hit me!</div></div>