A/N: Like Jean-Paul, Regan, and Manuel, Amara is an X-Men comic character. I've never read very much with her, but whenever she appeared, she was always kind of snobby. And then there was that awakward moment where she murdered a teammate and never faced any kind of retribution for her actions.
These characters also feature in another one of my stories, "Speechless", if you're interested.
The Gottesman Hall of Planet Earth contained one of the most outstanding collections of geological specimens ever displayed in an exhibition hall. The majority of the pieces had been collected from expeditions in various distant locations, from Indonesian volcanoes to the Sahara Desert in West Africa. Each trip included working with local experts to uncover the most geologically significant rocks. Every specimen and model was chosen to illustrate an important aspect of Earth's dynamic story.
Amara Aquilla was not pleased to be there.
"I can't think of a more pointless outing," she complained to her friend Rogue, who was dressed in her usual reasonably fashionable clothing, only palette swapped so every article was black. This, combined with her very pale complexion, caused her rich auburn hair to stand out in stark contrast to the lack of color on her person.
However, Amara noticed with a surge of jealousy, none of this detracted from Rogue's overall attractiveness. She shook her head in an attempt to sway her envy, but stumbled as she walked and she grabbed Rogue's bare arm for balance.
Rogue steadied her and although she said nothing, Amara's cheeks burned with embarrassment.
The room was very slightly dimmed for the numerous video and computer monitor displays that were present in the hall along with the expected glass cases of rocks, but Amara was far from relaxed at the lack of bright lights. She felt angry, cheated out of a good time by being forced to trudge from exhibit to exhibit with no respite or likely immediate end.
"I'd never thought I'd say something like this," Amara declared, sweeping her long curtain of sleek black hair over one shoulder, "but Regan was lucky that she caught mono and was sent home for three weeks. I wish that I didn't have to deal with this, but at least I don't have to deal with that insufferable Jubilation Lee at the moment. God, she is such a whiny ingrate."
"She's very loud," was Rogue's only contribution.
To be truthful Amara was surprised that Rogue was able to go so many hours without speaking and yet her voice was never raspy from disuse; instead, it remained balanced and smooth, but barely any emotion was present to keep it from being a creepy monotone. "I hate the way she and that Kitty Pryde girl have all of the teachers wrapped around their fingers. They're nothing more than middle class, but they can get away with almost anything. I bet even if they were to walk out on this field trip and leave the museum, they wouldn't even be punished."
"Katie Pryde is overemotional," Rogue replied, no emotion inflected in her tone.
"Kitty, not 'Katie,'" Amara corrected absently.
"I don't care."
"Rogue, if I left the museum, would you come with me?"
Cold green eyes focused upon her. "You want to leave." It was a statement, not a question.
Willfully, Amara held her friend's gaze, determined to not show her uneasiness at the taller girl's eerie stare. "I'm wasting my time here. If I don't have to learn the material in school and take a test on it, then it's of no importance to me."
"All of us have to write an essay about what we learned here for Mr. Summers's class," Rogue said flatly.
"You'll help me write it," Amara said dismissively. "You always do."
Rogue didn't reply to this, her gaze traveling over the computers and exhibits surrounding them. People passed by them, their chaperone and group of students were moving on, but neither girl paid them any attention; Amara was focused on Rogue, whose alert, cold eyes were studying a brochure she had selected at the museum entrance. She now glanced up from it to watch as their group filed out of the room, returning her gaze to the paper in case one of them glanced in their direction. Though Rogue didn't look happy to be at the museum, Amara had noticed that her friend rarely looked anything to be anywhere.
"Ms. Ghazikhanian will discover that we're gone," she said finally. "She'll call the other teachers and we'll be given detention. And worse, we'll be lectured by various authority figures."
Amara cast a disdainful glance at Ms. Ghazikhanian's retreating back. "Please. That slut will be too busy throwing herself at the nearest guy to pay any attention to the students in her group and if she does see that we're missing, she won't care. That woman is so irresponsible that I don't know how she ever became a teacher." She looked at her friend. "Whose mutations do you have stored away, ready to use?"
Those unsettling green eyes met Amara's own and she resisted the urge to blink and look away. "Mr. Proudstar's, Mr. Summers's, Katie's, and Shola's."
Amara smirked. "Don't tell me you weren't planning some excursion of your own, Rogue. Not with that kind of firepower at your fingertips."
Rogue remained silent, and Amara knew her well enough to recognize her taciturnity as stubbornness.
Turning on her heel, Amara began walking away. "Come on," she said over her shoulder, "I want to get out of this mausoleum as fast as possible."
A/N: Reviews and input are always greatly appreciated. And by the way: if an Xavier Institute teacher should catch one group ditching, who should the kids be and who the teacher be? Tell me what you think.