@paralyziingfears x Negan
So, Ella had taken a shot at one of those so-called Savior, and now Emma had to do some damage control. It wasn't even a real gun, it was a pellet one, and the guy had barely gotten his arm scratched, but since she knew by their reputation how the Saviors may be vindictive unless some diplomacy was used, she had figured it was worth an attempt. Especially because, at the very least, she had been told they weren't beasts with women nor children, and Ella was a very visibly pregnant girl, so maybe they could still fix it. Even if she didn't want Ella to come, or any of the girls, a bunch of them had for once overturned her decision and followed her in their jeep, while she rode her bike to the Saviors' outpost, together with the guy-victim and the other Saviors of his group. He had surely communicated through his radio to the Negan guy already, but Emma still did the whole little show of getting off her bike and raising her hands in surrender, while the girls came out of their jeep ready to face consequences, huge gun strapped to her back and her long blond curls bouncing as she started to pace. "I need to speak to your leader," she told the whole group, "We made a mistake, we were just passing through, no intention of getting in any trouble at all, and we accidentally hurt one of your people. We thought he had bad intentions, total misunderstanding, but I wanna make up for it. Don't want this to turn into a fight. We are just us ladies here anyway, it ain't like we can go to war." She could, but her current intention was to use her looks and gender and the friendliest of behaviors to avoid trouble for the others. "If we can talk to the Neganest Negan, please, maybe we can sort this out?" The guy Ella had shot, and that Emma had thoroughly charmed, pointed at one specific man who was peeking through the lines of Saviors, spiked club and all, and Emma broke into a smile, giving Negan an once over, "Well damn, you are hot!" she blurted out, "Know what, maybe I do wanna fight," she offered in the most flirtatious, approving tone humanly possible.
"Oh God, this is how we die," one of her girls groaned behind her. "Shush, the leaders are talking," Emma grinned without turning back to her, one hand going to her hip as she still admired the guy. There was no pretending there: he was the most handsome man she had seen in a long while, which really helped. "Hello gorgeous, I'm Emma. Can we talk this out? I've got gin, if you ain't about to take a swing at me with the bat, that is."








