"That's what people like us are here for! Do you know how many of those assholes I've scared off?" She reaches behind her back and pulls a gun out of its holster lazily, almost fumbling for it. "Don't worry, it's not... it's not loaded, the bullets don't work here, but people who think they can just run around and say shit about refugees and spray graffiti all over people's houses... they're just... they're all cowards, you know?"

The Emerald who'd arrived here wouldn't be saying these kinds of things. She feels borderline heroic, or she's felt that way for a while, and obviously she's not a hero and never could be. So it's weird. But right now, this Emerald doesn't care.

"The refugees aren't hurting anyone. They're running away from the worst thing they've ever lived through. And you know what?" And she holsters the gun and leans in and she's going to try to put an arm around this other girl's shoulder. Personal space? What's that? "They lived. They're here. They survived. So if we can't go out there and kick Dorchacht ass, we gotta... we gotta make sure that they feel safe here insead."