Welcome to Gaia! ::

Emily turned her head slightly to look at Vandal as he spoke. Once again she was thankful that her helmet hid any sort of expression that she may have. Very thankful.

So... he didn't like women who were easy, and preferred to work for a one night stand. Yet... he spent the better part of the evening alone with Natalia in her room? She flirts with anything that walks through Cobblepot's office, let alone anything that wanders into her private quarters. She could only assume, especially after he tried to get HER to get in on their little fun, that they had been doing the dirty in there.

And now he was saying he didn't like... ugh. And he... well she was just going to take it as a compliment and leave it at that. She couldn't decide if this man reminded her too much of Blackstone... or if he wasn't enough like Blackstone.

"Unfortunately, THIS suit doesn't come with that feature." she replied as she began poking at the bottom of her helmet. "This one is made to gather information and get out. My other suit does come with a different set of camo programs." she said. The helmet clicked, and she slid it off of her head. Her honey-blonde hair falling out of it and across her shoulders. She ran a hand through her hair as she continued to speak and press more hidden buttons on her suit. "I did, however, have the back up plan to be seen in something other than the suit tonight if I absolutely needed to. If I got stuck in the Lounge, I was just going to find one of the blind spots and play it off as though I came back to the Lounge just to check in, then edit the security footage once I was out and back at my usual spot." she replied.

Her brown eyes flickered back over to Vandal after a moment's pause. "If... you don't mind me changing out of some of this while you drive."

Emily closed her eyes and turned her head back to face the front of the car. Better to close her eyes than to let him see her roll her eyes at him. Alright... not that much like Blackstone. He would have had a more... professional response. Oh hell, he wouldn't be driving to begin with. He'd have to be a little more professional about it.

Carefully, Emily began fiddling around with the arms of the suit. There were a few clicks, a whrrr, and a clasp finally came undone to allow the gloves of the suit to come off. She took off the gloves and laid them across her lap before moving to fiddle with the abdomen of the suit. She had a much easier and much quicker time unhooking what she needed without the gloves. A large, long pouch-like piece came off of the suit. She unfastened the end of it, and pulled out two articles of clothing. Several bandages fell out with them, partially to change what might be needed, and mostly for show if she did have to go in to the Lounge. She unhooked several other pieces of the top portion of the suit until it finally looked like a rather hard sports bra with an open back.

Carefully, she stuffed the pieces of the suit into the pouch, and fastened it back up after stuffing the bandages back into it as well. A strap unhooked from it, and attached to the other end, making it look like a long side back pack. Setting that on her lap, she went about putting on the black, bulky sweater that well hid the last bit of suit she was wearing under it.

Next came the jeans. They were large enough to hide the rest of her suit, but still look as though they functioned to simply be comfortable. The boots she could program to turn black... making them look like any other boots. As well as the belt that she would probably just put over the jeans to keep them up and against her suit.

She looked at the jeans for a moment, then took a quick glance over at Savage to make sure he was watching the road. Then with a small frown, she sat her bag on the floor and went about the awkward task of getting her jeans on over top of her suit... while sitting in the passenger seat of the car. Something that was hard enough to do alone in a parked car, let alone a moving on.

Oh, and there was still the whole 'don't lean your back against the seat for support' thing that she had to contend with as well. Quick and painful reminder of that once was all it took for her to make the task look like it was more difficult than it really should have been.

Emily gave another grunt as she finally managed to get the jeans up over her suit in the small seat. A slight grimace on her face due to the strain she had put on her back. "From the family I guess..." she replied, getting herself situated in the seat once more. "Dad was American, Mom was French... both were spies. Rather than quit their jobs and go into hiding or make me grow up in some safe house, they both had the same idea about raising me I guess. Lived with my mom for a few years while she got over maternal leave. Taught me basic self defense as soon as I had the strength and mentality to actually learn it. When she went back to work, I lived with my dad. He raised me in the organization and taught me how to protect myself and about fake identities. His friends taught me more... I had an interest in becoming like my parents, so they supported it however they could." she said. Her hands fiddled with the belt of her seat to get it up and over her jeans. Once finished, she pressed a few buttons, and the pink of the suit turned black. Fairly normal looking belt and boots.

Emily had the reaction Vandal had probably expected. Though... likely not for the reason he was expecting. Her brows knit together in thought, then she quickly looked over at the large man. "Few hundred years? What do you mean by that." she asked, her expression puzzled.

Internally she was hoping he had slipped or was... making a funny or something. Not. Another. Overly wealthy immortal with a few levels above her in terms of taking someone down. She didn't need anything else about this man to remind her of Blackstone or compare between the two. She did NOT need to be making mental conclusions or get herself distracted by the similarities between the two men. And she certainly didn't want to keep thinking of Blackstone while working for this man. For.... various reasons.

Emily stared at him for a moment, her eyes widening a fraction, but that was all the surprise she gave him. She turned her head back around towards the front of the car, and her expression became... frustrated. "No... he failed to mention that." she replied. Her tone holding a slight growl to it. "Suppose since today was only your second day to the Lounge, there was no need to go over such information."

Okay.. so, a LOT older than Blackstone. But still.

She paused a moment before replying to him to try and clear her thoughts. "Unfortunately..." she finally said. "That last boss I mentioned to you that I had that tried to kill me."

Actually, the way she woke up when she first came to this world, she was fairly certain he actually succeeded in killing her. She was blind in one eye for a few weeks afterwards, and she was pretty sure she had suffered from rigamortis when she woke up. Or... something like it. She just knew exactly what went down before she blacked out and woke up in this world. Being unable to move, her head hurt, could barely move her fingers or see for a few weeks...

Though that whole thing was a mix of being her fault, and ill-fated timing. She knew Blackstone had one hell of a temper when pushed, and he was in a bad mood when she decided to turn on him to save another agent. Who... died regardless of her help. And she followed soon after.

Emily gave a small sigh and looked to the ceiling of the car to think. "Most of the people who know he's well beyond his fifties know that he's from the fifteenth century." she replied, then pursed her lips a bit. "But... if you do a bit more digging, you'll find that he has recalled earlier points in history. Or at least the clothing style and events happening on the other end of the tracks, so to speak, would place him at an earlier time period. Same as his estranged wife. Both of them can recall earlier times, but neither of them have ever claimed to be anything past the fifteenth century. I figure with the way they gained their immortality... the fifteenth century was the only time they had a solid event they could date back to. Probably lost track of time or how many years went by before then. I wouldn't place them before the Middle Ages though." she said, then looked back down at the road. More specifically the hotel building they were pulling up to.

She might as well be honest with him on what she could. It was the reason Cobblepot trusted her... he knew her for being honest with him at all times. Which made it easier for her to lie to him when she needed to. He would have no reason to believe her to be lying. And if he did, he would know that she had a damn good reason to because it would be "out of character" for her.

Perhaps if she was just honest with this man with as much as she could, she could lie her way out of something she had absolutely no intention of sharing.