Okay, so, I'm going to try something I've always thought of doing but never had the guts to do. Well, two things. One is writing ANs and another is working with Avatar. Please be nice, I'm using every bit of research I have. If I mess up, someone sounds kinda ooc, or I put in the dead (without warning of them living in here), please tell me so I can correct it. Please read and enjoy!
The weightless thing was to be expected, as the scientists all around woke up drivers, soldiers, and scientists. There's a mirror in my locker, the one marked as M. Vega. As I pull out my bag and stare into he mirror, the familiar stranger stares back. Sh actually looks beautiful, running a brush through silky dark auburn hair, her eyes the color of living grass. This can't be me. Definitely not me.
"First day on the job and I already feel like shit," I muttered to myself, sticking to the walls as I made my way towards the hanger our way in would be in. They had a bit of control over the gravity, so at least I wouldn't feel like my stomach is in my throat.
There's a sea of people around, squeezing and suffocating me. I'm not normally claustrophobic, but this is changing that. There's this one woman, blonde, blue eyed, and dressed in military fatigues. I'll have to remember to stay away from her. Besides, she's chatting up a storm with a man who looks like he doesn't even give a flying fuck. God, if I'm ever stuck with her, I'll probably try to drown her out with a bottle of beer. If they even keep alcohol on Pandora. God I hope they do. Like so many before me, I drink away the pain I feel while my brother is in Jamaica. Of course, it's only emotional pain. Mostly regret for letting him go in. Hell, I've been asleep for so long. Is he even still alive?
Someone's tapping foot brought me out of my thinking. Parker Selfridge. A tie and suit and a huge ego bigger than the sun. This is the second time I've met him. And that first was when he was telling us, only a year after he got back, was him saying that I and anyone else who'd been in the Avatar program training would have to do it all over again. A few veterans from the last trip are going in again too. All bases were evacuated due to the natives becoming more and more hostile. They even attacked a team apparently. The main base, somewhere near Hell's Gate, will not be used again. Instead, We'll be in Grave's Bog for however long it takes.
Despite the Tipani clan being closer and this base originally being used for research of Sturmbeast migration patters, We're here to befriend the Omaticaya clan and take hold of the unobtainium deposit below their home tree.
"Hey, Parker, tell me, why did you let 'fly-bitten savages drive you and everyone else off base?" I asked him lightly, using his term for the Na'vi. Maybe I can get on his good side. Just maybe. "I mean, you had guns, you had bombs, and you were going up against bows and arrows!" Okay, that won't get me anywhere good.
"There had been a few traitors. Half of the program sided with the indigenous," he said, turning to face me. He brushed some hair away from my eye, and visibly stiffened before letting my hair fall back. I knew what he saw. The scar of a knife cutting above and below my eye. I had been about thirteen when that happened. Some school teachers are sweethearts. Others are psychopath rapists who hurt you if you cry for help. He tried to lean in and put a hand on my waist as if he was a charmer that could make me forget my question, but I pushed him back. That may have been ten years ago, but I still don't let men or women touch me at the waist or below.
"Touchy, are we?" he growled, looking me in the eye.
"I was raped once, not going back," I muttered.
Please r&r.
I do not own Avatar!