OoM: Grace's school

[hallelujahpilot]

[slightly place-holdery]

Trudy likes dealing with Dr Louise Donnelly. She's more street than academy, which Trudy appreciates. But Louise is working the Na'vi near the coast, so today Trudy is just dropping her off.

Trudy doesn't even touch the ground, just hovers above it as Louise jumps out and runs out of the way. She turns and gives Trudy a cheerful salute, and then adjusts her pack slightly as she heads off. Once Louise is clear, Trudy raises Maya and turns in the air, heading back over the jungle.

Comments

[donthidemycigs]

"Deceptive, isn't it?"

It's bright out, and as they pull up and head back towards Hometree the ocean catches the light and glitters. Grace touches her throat where the comm link lays.

"Something so beautiful can be so deadly."

Getting Louise out here in time meant starting out at an ungodly hour. Village life starts early, and the Na'vi children will in all likelihood be waiting on Grace before they get to the school.

[hallelujahpilot]

"Lots of things that are pretty can kill you," Trudy says easily enough. "Just we got a bit of a problem of 'outer beauty reflects inner goodness', or some shit like that."

...that's way too philosophical given she's had enough sleep. Normally she only talks like that when she hasn't slept for the past three days.

[donthidemycigs]

Grace barks with laughter.

"So there are some people at Hell's Gate who are screwed out of every orifice," she snorts. "Ever heard of Foxglove? Extinct on Earth. It was a three foot tall plant, with little bell-like flowers. Popular at weddings."

Large golden eyes flick from the horizon to the back of Trudy's head.

"They were also called Witches Thimbles. You could kiss your heart goodbye if you ever tried eating one."

[hallelujahpilot]

That gets a cackle.

"Pretty damn fittin' then."

[donthidemycigs]

"No one said botany couldn't be poetic."

[hallelujahpilot]

"It's why I like it."

[donthidemycigs]

"I've noticed."

Samsons aren't great places for conversation, if you like quiet chats over dinner.

"You get that from your father?"

Grace has never been the quiet type.

[hallelujahpilot]

Neither has Trudy, when all is said and done.

"Nah, both."

[donthidemycigs]

"Both?"



Hm.

"Don't tell me your mother kept a garden."

[hallelujahpilot]

Beat.

"Define garden," Trudy says, keeping her tone even until she can gage where Grace's current sarcasm is coming from.

[donthidemycigs]

"You know that green stuff you occasionally see growing around in the dirt?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"One day, Doc? You're gonna stop assumin' that I don't anythin'. I look forward to this day."

Beat.

"My mom had a couple of pots around the place, or tried to. Not what you'd call a garden, I know. But she did grow things."

[donthidemycigs]

Grace laughs.

She's come to enjoy these heart-to-hearts of theirs.

"That's more than what you can find in the typical Terran household. Unless you count freeze-dried broccoli and black mold."

She watches the sea of green roll by beneath her feet.

"Hobby?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"She liked makin' things grow."

[donthidemycigs]

"And your father?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"Lives in the past. He studies how people used plants, rather than....trying to grow any now."

[donthidemycigs]

"There's a reason I picked botany over anthropology."

Aside from her scathing disdain for most of the people she knows (and knows of).

"It's hard to keep plants in the past. They're always growing, adapting, changing."

[hallelujahpilot]

There is a pause.

"Also, you'd...have to be at least curious about people. To study them."

Just, you know. As a thing.

[donthidemycigs]

Her grin is all the more sharp in this body, a cage of white dentine flashing from parted blue curtains.

"I'm curious about some people."

Amber irises flicker in Trudy's direction.

[hallelujahpilot]

It's a pity that Trudy can't see it.

"I'm sure they're flattered," she says, dry as dry.

[donthidemycigs]

"I'd like to think so."

And for the most part, she does.

"There's a clearing a little closer to the school than where you usually set down. It's not as easy to get to, but you can handle it."

[hallelujahpilot]

"Roger that," Trudy says, flying over her normal clearing. Where is-

Ah, yes. There.





She decides to view Augustine's faith in her abilities flattering.

[donthidemycigs]

And Grace doesn't want to carry her half a mile back to the samson in case there are any problems with Pandora along the way.

Details.


"Bingo. How's your Na'vi?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"Oel ngati kameie. Just. Pretend I'm doing the hand gesture."

[donthidemycigs]

"Not bad."

Better than not bad, in fact. Her accent is pretty damn good.

[hallelujahpilot]

"[I practice,]" she says, slipping back into Na'vi as she turns Maya's engine off. Then door up and she lightly jumps out onto the ground.

And yes, Grace, she has a rifle slung over her shoulder. She's a Marine, not on base. She's not leaving it behind.

[donthidemycigs]

She stretches her spindly legs out of the samson and lands softly, adjusting the bag slung over her shoulder. She's already laughing (serves you right, picking the Bonita with spirit), so it's with a brilliant smile and a quick once-over that she asks: "Can you balance with that thing on your back?"

[hallelujahpilot]

There is a pause, and Trudy looks up at her. There are raised eyebrows behind her filter-mask.

"It's. A standard infantry rifle, Doc. If I couldn't balance with one, they wouldn't even let me into bootcamp." Beat. "I've carried worse."

[donthidemycigs]

"I believe you have," she says, already picking her way into the brush. "Which is your business. Unless you bring it into my school; then it becomes my business."

Almond-shaped eyes turn on Trudy. "I don't think either of us wants that, so let's not beat a dead horse. Standard infantry rifle, fine. You take your precautions, I take mine."

[hallelujahpilot]

"Grace," she says, and then, "Augustine. The safety is on, and I will not let the children touch it. And I will not use it on them."

Pause.

"I give you my word on that."

[donthidemycigs]

Her ears twitch forward.



"All right."

It's almost a challenge. Prove it.

"Just so long as we're clear, the children are my first priority here. Oh, and they're watching every move you make, starting three minutes ago."

[hallelujahpilot]

She allows herself a slight smile as she starts to walk after Grace.

"Only three minutes? I was assuming they'd be watching my chopper first."

[donthidemycigs]

"Different beast, marine."

[hallelujahpilot]

More seriously, "I know."

[donthidemycigs]

Trudy shouldn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary while she scans the area. The forest is relatively quiet, and the Na'vi are exceptional at blending in.

It's not long before the growth parts to reveal the school. It's just a cabin, simple and rustic.

"Home sweet home."

[hallelujahpilot]

Simple. Rustic. Well-maintained and Trudy's lips twitch slightly as she notes all the pairs of golden eyes peering out from the windows and the door.

Speaking off the door, the first one out is a willowy adolescent girl, her face narrow and eyes sharp. Trudy notes the way she moves - oddly fluid and graceful, and entirely unlike the stride of a human or an Avatar - and the confidence in it.

Also, the knife at her hip. Yes, that gets noticed, too. Behind the first girl is a second - shorter, not as thin - and Trudy can't tell if she is younger or the same age.

"Graceaugustine," the first girl says. "I See you." The other girl nods, repeats the gesture, and both of them glance at Trudy.

"Fyape fko syaw ngar?" The first girl asks while the second glances at her, rolling her eyes slightly. Something in the expression screams 'sister' to Trudy.

"Oeru syaw Trudy Chacon." Beat. "Alameda'ite."

Well, hey. Formal is formal. And ranks would just get confusing, real fast.

[donthidemycigs]

"Oel ngati kameie, Sylwanin. Neytiri."

Grace lifts her head, glances briefly at Trudy, and holds up one hand.

"Poe mì tì'eylan za'u. It's all right."

The tallest girl glances sternly between Grace and Trudy. If the Skyperson's Na'vi has thrown her off, she doesn't let it show. The last few steps from the porch to the Avatar and her escort are taken purposefully, with almost a swaggering confidence. She cranes her neck in the direction of the metal ikran, ears pinned with suspicion.

"There are no more?"

"We are the only ones today," Grace says, grinning as more children start to appear. "Trudy Chacon is here to ensure my safety."

Sorry, Trudy; the sarcasm just slipped out.

"You are a warrior?" asks Sylwanin, ears perking. "Not karyu -- teacher? Tìftia kifkeyä..."

She looks to Grace for the English.

"Scientist. No, she's not a scientist."

[hallelujahpilot]

"Warrior," Trudy agrees. Her eyes flick from Sylwanin to her sister, to the other children. Some seem to be of age with Sylwanin and Neytiri, but most are younger. Some are even shorter than she is.

"And taronyu? Hunter?" Neytiri asks, following Sylwanin's gaze towards where Trudy left her Samson. "With the ikran?"

Ikran. Banshee. What- Oh

"No, not a hunter." Beat. "Warrior and pilot - I fly."

[donthidemycigs]

Sylwanin and Neytiri say nothing, staring at Trudy as if the explanation is senseless. They exchange looks.

"Sa'nok!"

Grace lowers herself to the level of some of the smaller Na'vi children, greeting each personally and warmly. They greet her with questions about the day's curriculum and last week's lessons -- as well as questions about the strange Skyperson, of course. Some have never seen one up close before.

"Why do you fly?" Neytiri eventually asks Trudy.

Sylwanin remains silent, pacing a proud circle around the marine.

[hallelujahpilot]

For the moment, Trudy filters out the children's chatter - she's still paying attention to the tone, but she doesn't understand enough to bother trying to pay attention to the words.

(she did, she'd be entertained about the queries regarding the rough curls in her ponytail)

More of her attention is on Sylwanin, and Trudy's sure that the tension running through her is visible to the young warrior. But other than that, she gives no sign that Sylwanin's pacing is making her on edge.

"Why?" She asks Neytiri, a little taken back.

"Yes. Why?"

"...do you?"

The girl nods, and her sudden smile lights up her face, turning her from severe and off-putting to recognizably young and happy. "I ride Seze."

"Okay," Trudy says. "Why?"

"Because I am hunter."

Trudy regards her for a moment, and then she suddenly smiles herself. "Yeah, but that's like me saying I fly because I am a flier. You ever just...fly, for the sheer hell of it? I mean." Beat. "For the...fun, or joy, of flying?"

Neytiri cocks her head, and Sylwanin pauses in her pacing, large yellow eyes flicking between her sister's face and the Skyperson's.

"Yes," Neytiri says. "It- feel free. And there is fun."

"Exactly," Trudy says quietly, her smile crooked and fierce, all at once. "That's why I fly."