【🔧】— “Now you wouldn’t be goin’ ‘round casually tossin’ ‘round a perfectly good, perfectly important, and perfectly expensive high-tech piece of equipment now, would ya?” Mr. House’s human lackey asked, safely holding the Platinum Chip in her cold metal fist of a prosthetic.

      The words came off a lot colder than intended, the cyborg meaning in jest, but there was still some seriousness in those words. Mr. House invested everything into this small, coin-sized chip, it was only natural to scold someone who would be so careless with it.

      “Now that you’ve gotten what th’ boss has asked fer,” she held the chip between her fingers, extending it towards the courier for her to take back. “I highly suggest taking it back t’ him, you are, after all, th’ only one allowed inside.” 

        The last bit she tacked on sounded slightly bitter, and rightly so. She had dedicated her life to supporting the faceless ruler of New Vegas, only to be snubbed and put aside for this woman to become his sole human confidant. She wouldn’t question his decisions, however, not yet, anyway.

   Noodle cringes, feeling that same hot embarrassment from her childhood. Dani is not someone she thinks little of, even as the courier stands near half a foot over her, the woman easily instills trepidation in her. There is not much Noodle knows of her — she isn’t one to ask, thining an answer may not even come so easily — but the metal arm says enough to keep her on her toes. So it’s not shocking she mainly hears the scolding in that voice.

When the chip is presented for the taking, Noodle feels the pit of her stomach turn hallow. Flashes of the securitron behind Benny’s hidden wall flashing before her eyes. She remembers what he said, how there was more than House’s plans on the table, that a battle would soon be taking over. All for that little damned chip.

Noodle frowns, brows knitting together, and she knows it’s a childish expression. She pinches the chip between two fingers, setting her glare on it as she draws it closer to her chest.

“   Doesn’t sound like you’re happy about me having  to go take it in.  “  And she began to look over herself for a secure place to put it. Her eyes land on her chest, usually flat, but plumped up a tad with bra. It’s an idea, yet she doesn’t act on it yet.

    A hiss, then a groan from deep within her throat. Noodle glares at the bullet in her hand, damning the one who pulled the trigger. They got her good, but fortunately she had someone better by her side. Now she sits and grips her arm with the opposite hand, right below the wound that burns as her companion looks it over.