Nashota Locklear's trip to Jacksonville hadn't been a hard one. She was already in Florida, she hadn't left the state since shit hit the fan, but she also hadn't traveled far from where she lived, from her reservation. However, word got around surprisingly quick in the wasteland. When she heard about the job being offered, and the amount of credits that would be given upon completion, well, how could a lady pass up such a sweet offer? Granted, she wasn't that car savvy, and that would more than likely make her stand out against the rest. Though, that didn't mean she couldn't drive - she was a good driver. It was just under the hood that sometimes made her raise an eyebrow. She might have to get on someone's good side, preferably a mechanic's, just to assure she had someone who'd help her with Mal if the girl started having some issues. She knew the basics and, right now, she thought that was good enough.
She had been one of the first to arrive at the old hanger that had seen better days. She had been checking a few things out on her, nothing of true import, just killing some time, when Mercer caught her attention. She was underneath the hood of Mal at the time, and didn't emerge since she could hear him fine. When he mentioned he had been too drunk to read their dossiers, an amused snort came from her direction. Though, she had to agree with the man who said Mercer didn't seem like the guy to have dossiers. Writing down stuff just wasn't common practice anymore.
When presented with the two gifts from the war chest, the barbed wire bat had seemed to call to her. It was a pretty thing, and once she picked it up and swung it a little, she liked the feel, the balance, of it, so she claimed it. She also thought Mal would look pretty and dolled up with boarder spikes, and so, she chose those as well. To survive in the wasteland, one had to learn new tricks, new trades, and Nash had learned how to weld. So, not hesitating, she began to figure out a way to get the border spikes onto her car, and to stay on there. There wasn't too many to put up; just the right amount to place them exactly where she needed them. No car hoppers would be jumping onto her hood or back, that was for sure. With a small grin, she lightly touched one of the sharp tips of the spikes; ah, yes, Mal sure did look pretty like this. Some of the sunlight that streamed through a few cracks and holes in the ceiling of the hanger caught on her dusty body, highlighting all her bumps and bruises, dents and scratches, and Nash thought she was a beautiful sight.
She wasn't going to speak first. It wasn't that she was outright rude, or didn't give a shit about all this, but she didn't speak to very many people these days, and so she'd wait for some of the others to speak up. As she was working to secure the border spikes to her car, she listened to everyone's introduction. She rose an eyebrow at William- or, Glasser's, rather, exclamation at cutting his thumb, but she didn't make a comment. She did look up briefly at Roberts when she heard his accent; she couldn't exactly pinpoint where it was from. She had lived in this state all her life, on a reservation, and hadn't met very many people outside of that circle. Now that she acknowledged it, Glasser had an accent too. Again, she wasn't exactly sure from where. She didn't plan on asking right now, either. When the only other female spoke, she did look up, and grinned at her when a subtle nod was directed at her. Girl power, right? Nash almost rolled her eyes at her own thought as she turned back to her car and kept listening.
She didn't even glance at Ulysses and once silence filled the hanger again, she gave the softest of sighs and stood up from her kneeling position, having been rubbing at a dent on Mal just because she could, and straightened herself up. "I'm Nashota Locklear." her Native American accent was strong, considering she had learned her mother tongue first, long before English, honestly. "Nash." she added, because her first name could be hard to pronounce for some people. She glanced around, eyes stopping on Valentine. "Nice to see another beautiful lady," she mumbled, giving her a wink, before looking towards Ulysses. "Is Andy a stupid nickname?" she mused, though it was almost as if it was to herself, like she wasn't quite expecting an answer, before shrugging a bit. She slapped her hand onto Mal's hood, disturbing the dust there. "This is Malila... Mal, if you like. I don't have much to say about her besides she's a kick ass little thing." she grew quiet here, glancing around at everyone, before going back to her work, done with her introduction.
