[center][h3][color=39b54a]Emily, or #2[/color][/h3] [/center]

Number Two flinched. Anyone socially inclined would be able to tell that she was hurt by Antoine's denial of her personhood.  Suddenly self-concsious, Number Two pulled her shirt down to cover her tattoos and not skin. That seemed like a bit of an escalation, she thought to herself. I was only teasing, right? Why do I care so much about what this moppy haired loser thinks? He's nothing to me. But it didn't matter, because she did care what he thought. So Number Two said nothing.

The brunette listened to the debriefing and when Antoine did his little power play, she clenched up again but only briefly, trying her best to conceal her emotions. 

[color=39b54a]"Well, your loss Antoine."[/color] She said, and convinced herself this was true. Compliant, she stepped into the car and closed the door. With a smile she gave a wave to the people as they drove by. They saw her, and assumed she was a woman. Sure, they were different in some ways, but alike in so many others.

Soon, they made it to the Silver Dollar, and seeing it brightened her mood. It was so delightfully tacky. She decided to shoot a little back at Antoine. Just a little, to make herself feel better. [color=39b54a]"Oh, Antoine, you're so pompous. This is great."[/color] Number Two was quick to go inside. 

She greeted the shop's owner and took a look around at all the gifts. Finding what she was looking for, Number Two donned an extraordinarily cheap cowboy hat. Placing it on her head, she leaned up against a wall and pulled the brim over her eyes. When Antoine looked at her next, she dramatically tipped the brim up with her index finger. [color=39b54a]"Howdy, partner." [/color] She managed to keep a straight face, squinting at Antoine like she had spent all her days wrangling cattle under the hot summer sun.