Isaint only gets the words out to Nitro and his last line to Goodnight because Goodnight is so angry that for a few seconds all she can do is stand and shake in impotent, blazing fury. His whole view on the infected- those that had to feed on blood at least- that they could either kill themselves or let themselves be killed, that survival made them monsters no matter how they managed it or whatever good they did...it is too much for Goodnight.
She hits him, right as he begins to turn away.
She doesn't trigger her shock gloves or put any magic behind the blow, and she's a small girl, but a wiry one and she's learned how to gether hips and shoulders into a blow. The backhanded slap is a good one, catching him right across the line of his jaw and in the wake of it, Goodnight's eyes are glowing, the purple contacts subsumed by an angry light the color of poisonous fruits.
"You bigoted, moralizing son of a bitch." Goodnight says. Her voice is curiously even, no screaming or crying or wringing of hands to be found. She could be a computer for all the inflection she's showing. "You would throw aside an entire life for one condition they cannot control, condemn them to die at the hands of black-and-white crusaders like yourself. Nevermind that they may feed on people that the world would be better off without, or that they can feed without killing if they find someone willing to offer themselves again and again." She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter what good they might do. Even Red Lang and Martin de Vries, good people both, good shadowrunners, would be nothing more than their infections to you." Her eyes dim as she gains control of herself. "You're no better than the Humanis scum that tried to wipe your kindred off the face of the earth when Goblinization was new. You disgust me."
She turns away before he can reply. Privately, she's really hoping he takes a swing at her in earnest. It would feel really, really good to clean his clock.
To the rigger with the slick ride, she bows deeply, her still-unzipped suit giving him an eyeful before she straightens. The angry expression is gone, and she dimples cutely as she takes him in. If he expects her to be upset by the flaming motif, he's going to be disappointed. The look suits him, making him more than slightly reminiscent of an old villain in a children's flatvid she saw about greek mythology once. Her voice is its warm, lovely self once more as she offers a hand to be shaken or kissed as he likes. "Goodnight, dear Nitro. Charmed to make your...singular acquaintance." She jerks her head to indicate Isaint. "My apologies for forcing you to watch that. He stumbled on a few of my more...personal issues."
Goodnight glances over the drones, then the weapons, and shrugs expansively, her grin turning a little wicked as she slowly zips her suit back up. "I don't mind. Even if I did, it isn't my place to tell you how to do your job. Frankly, I'm glad you are prepared. Wireless is going to be for drek down there in places, though, so keep in mind that you may be line-of-sight only. I'll try to warn you if we're about to hit a place like that."
She glances over at Melisa briefly and shakes her head. "If it were just us 'runners? Sure. But with civilians? I doubt it. Earl's Court is on the other side of the City, and that would be pushing too hard." Her expression turns contemplative, and then she nods. "Right now my plan is to get us as far as Hellbound Station or Shadows' Folly. The background count above both, coupled with their depth and the amount of strange drek around should hide us from Astral scrying long enough for the Doctor and his family to get some rest. We can move on to more pleasant accomodations tomorrow."
