"What the fuck is wrong with you?" She knew it probably wasn't a smart question to ask, but Marrowood had this weird habit of mixing her terror with indignant defiance. Maybe she did have a little bit of a death wish. Damn. "I get that your brain is basically silly putty right now Darth Vader, but there's one thing that you don't seem to be getting: Whatever freaky government hellhole you came out of doesn't exist anymore."
She hated being unsettled, almost as much as she hated being called on her shit. And here this asshole was, doing both. And dammit if she just couldn't let it go. "I'm not a secret agent, but guess what? Neither are you. Here, you're just a brainwashed infant with really impressive abs and no fucking sense of humor. So, what - you want to remind me that you're a scary son of a bitch? Congratulations; message sent. But pretty much everyone here is, so really? Not that impressed." And, okay - that was a major lie. She was both scared shitless and impressed. But she doubted Captain Dead Eyes would pick up on it.