Helena Henrietta Haddock III, known to most as "Hiccup" (nasty kindergarten incident—she doesn't talk about it) sits very still and quietly on the bleachers in front of the football field. She's got her calculus homework open on her lap, and is quickly working out as many problems as she can, before Coach Gobber notices she hasn't done the football teams attendance yet. It's not like either of them want her to be here, but she has too, because she needs academic involvement for college applications. If she was pretty or athletic, she could be a cheerleader, or play tennis, but she isn't, so she's here, avoiding placing tick marks next to the names of all the guys at practice.
Eventually, though, Gobber takes notice of her, and calls her down, scowling.
"'ave ya' done the attendance yet, lass?" he asks, Scottish accent coating the words. Hiccup, looking up from her homework, shakes her head.
"I'm just waiting to make sure everyone who's going to show, shows," she explains, offering up her most charming smile. Gobber rolls his eyes, but claps a heavy hand on her shoulder, hiding a smile. His other hand, along with his left leg, end in prosthetic hooks, specially designed for everyday use.
She sighs; this means she actually has to do the dumb attendance now. Last year, when Hiccup began looking at colleges, her father had decided he'd like to try his hand at actual parenting and got really involved with the college search. After pretending to consider some school Hiccup had expressed interest in, he'd picked Harvard, and the two of them looked through their application requirements.
Hiccup's course load was heavy on the sciences, and light on history and English, but she'd persuaded her father to leave it, telling him that she'd done that to assure the best possible GPA possible. Steven, or Stoic to the press, Haddock had his heart set on Hiccup being some sort of politician, despite the fact that was not sociable or charming, or possessed any quality that a good politician ought to have, really.
So, because of the Harvard Pre-law dream, Steven had arranged for some extracurricular boosts. He'd called in a favor from his best friend, Hiccup's godfather Gerard Gobber. Gobber was the pre-DBDI teacher and football coach at Berk High School, Hiccup's school and Steven's alma mater. Now, she was a glorified personal assistant who got athletic credit from walking around, dodging rouge footballs, and taking attendance.
Harvard, here she comes.
Of course, if anyone had bothered to ask what Hiccup wanted to do, she'd say study DBD at the DBD-Institute, like her father. But then, again, it wasn't like anyone cared all that much.
DBD was dragon border defense, the sector of government her father was responsible for. Hiccup knew all about it; she'd been learning about it since she was a little kid. She knew it was founded in 1809, right after the great dragon massacre, which left fourteen towns ravaged and close to twelve hundred people dead. She knew dragons were dangerous creatures, and that they needed to be kept on their sides of the planet. She knew the DBDI, dragon border defense institute, was the best school in North America to study dragons and learn how to keep them away from the general population.
Her father was adamant, though, that she would be attending Harvard to study law, and stay far from anything having to do with dragons. There must've been a reason for it, but Steven had never said. So, now she's here, clutching her stupid little clip board, squinting at the players.
Hiccup skirts around the edges of the field, staying out of the way of the players, and carefully noting who was here and who wasn't. Meanwhile, on the track, the cheerleaders are hard at work, shaking their pompoms and jumping around. Scarlett Jorgenson, the head cheerleader and Hiccups cousin, claps her hands and leads the other girls in a rousing rendition of "we've got spirit!" Among them is Fiona Ingerman, the tallest girl there. She's Swedish, and looks the part too. She has long blonde curls that fall to mid-back, and a frame like an athlete, strong and steady looking. Fiona see's Hiccup looking and flutters her fingers in a little wave. Hiccup waves back. The girls have been friends since they were little, when Fiona was deemed freakishly tall and Hiccup had earned her unfortunate nickname. They were quite close; they had to be, to survive public school together.
But, Fiona got pretty junior year, and lost all her baby fat. Now, she straddles the edge of popularity and loserdom. On paper, she ought to be very popular, but in real life, anyone who talked to her could see how big of a nerd she was. It was part of the reason she and Hiccup got along so well.
Scarlett bounces around, letting her absurdly short skirt swish around her thighs, giving every football player in sight a good look of her long, perfect legs. Her best friend, Tori Thorston follows her lead, bending over to pull her blonde hair into a high ponytail. On the field, the only boys not paying attention were running back Rory Thorston, twin brother of Tori, and Aaron Hofferson, star quarterback. It was pretty ironic, considering Scarlett was Aaron's girlfriend.
Aaron Hofferson was a strange sort of guy. He was cool because of his looks, athletic prowess, and high status girlfriend, but he acted like he didn't want any of that. He was sharp and standoffish, but somehow, it made people like him even more. Girls always fawned over him, and guys went out of their way to make him like them. He didn't really seem to care about anything really, except his sports. The guy played football, hockey, and baseball like his life depended on it. He was captain of every team, and scouts flocked from all over to watch him.
Hiccup didn't like him per say, but she admired his zeal for athletics and his intelligence. He was wicked smart, but it didn't burden his social status like it might anyone else's. In fact, he was one of the smartest kids in their class, second only to her. He's a shoe-in for the DBD program, along with his friends.
Either way, he was still nice to look at. Hiccup settles back in the stands, and works through more calculus, occasionally looking back up when someone yells. Eventually, after what feels like a million years, practice is over, and Hiccup can leave. She hands the attendance sheet to Gobber and hassles him about pre-DBDI a little before heading home, roaring away in her beat up, old jeep.
It's her mother's car, which is why she can't bear to let it go. She figures that's why her father lets her keep it, even if it's more duct tape than metal right now. It's awfully quiet at home, like it always is. Tonight, her father's at headquarters, mostly like monitoring borders and taking preemptive measures.
Hiccup meanders around, bored. She ended up getting her homework done during the practice, surprisingly. She stands outside her father's office, contemplating going in.
She's technically not allowed in there, but that's where all her father's books and dragon resources are. Hiccup looks around, paranoid, even though she knows her father's not home. It's a little messy in here, looking lived in. Books are spread all over the desk, covered in papers. There's a proposal for an expedition right on top of everything, drawing her eye. She sits gingerly in the big office chair and reads it.
It looks like her father wants to venture into dragon territory, to try and find their nest. From what they know currently, dragons hunt in groups, so there must be a central meeting place for them. It sounds dangerous, but incredibly cool. Hiccup's always wanted to see a dragon up close and personal, but she's never gotten the chance.
The current plan is to get into pre-DBDI, graduate top of her class, get into DBDI, and impress everyone. The details are a little fuzzy, but Hiccup figures she'll figure that out when she gets to it.
The book underneath the proposal is a general dragon encyclopedia. It's her favorite book in here, so she carefully extracts it, replacing it with Strike Class: A Breakdown of the Most Fearsome Dragons of Our Age.
She heads outside, workshop in the backyard. It was supposed to be a playhouse, but Hiccup's always been more interested building her little machines than playing house with her non-existent friends.
Currently, it's a mess of metal and blueprints. Right now, she's got plans for a hydro pressured net launcher, which calculates the velocity, force, and angle of the launch itself, depending the dragon. Theoretically, it should work, because she's "borrowed" the DBD dragon knowledge database and used it to program the machine. After that, it was simple calculations and a quick error-minimizing program. It should work, but she has no way of knowing, considering she's sorely lacking testing subjects.
"Helena!" Her father's voice scares her, and she jumps, knocking over a tray of nuts and bolts. The little metal bits scatter everywhere and she sighs, jogging back inside.
"Dad? What are you doing home?" She asks, slipping through the backdoor. Her father moves like a whirlwind, throwing things into his bag. The office door is open and there are papers everywhere.
"Stay inside. Get in the basement and stay there until I ask you to come out, understand?" Steven's not really looking at her, instead, busying himself with strapping a holster to himself. That can't be good.
"Why? Is there a dragon raid? What's going—"
"Do you understand?" Steven asks, more forcefully this time. Hiccup bobs her head yes, but rushes over to help nonetheless.
"Listen, I've come up with this cool new weapon, okay? It's like a net launcher, but you don't have to do any work! It calculates everything for you, you just have to hit a button. I have it set up so—"
"Helena, I don't have time for this! Basement! Stay!" With that, Steven rushes out the door, leaving his daughter dazed, and a little bit hurt. She watches her father leave, scowl blooming on her face.
There's a flash of light, grabbing Hiccup's attention. She rushes to the back door, face pressed against the glass. Something big flies out of her field of vision, and she trips over herself to get outside and get a good look.
There's an unearthly shrieking, jarring Hiccup, and she knows.
Nightfury.