Post by Naomi Darvah on Jan 5, 2010 11:42:48 GMT -5
Name: Naomi Angelique Darvah
Age: thirty two (including six years of cryosleep)
Secret Word: sent
Gender: female
Sexuality: whatever works—but she usually sticks with men
Race: human
Occupation: Xenomicrobiologist (also if it were possible she could help when Avatar training, since I see we don't have anyone currently filling that position)
Human Physical Description:
Long limbed and slender Naomi’s frame seems to distantly mirror that of the inhabitants on Pandora. She’s fair skinned but always manages the barest whisper of a tan due to her extended stays in the harvesting areas of the ship, its false sunlight affecting her as if she were on her home planet. Naomi takes great care in her physical fitness and because of this her musculature is extremely toned-despite her less than physically taxing occupation, the woman can easily out pace most of her colleagues with little effort. Her shoulders are defined and most of her features have a softened angular look about them—while she can be describe as attractive she makes no effort to purposely draw stares.
Naomi’s hair is rarely worn down, and she can most often be caught sporting tight regal buns, or messy pony-tails if she plans on spending several consecutive hours exercising her grasp on the native tongue of the Na’vi. On the very odd occasion that she wears her hair down one can plainly see just how long and curled it really is. Underneath the lights of the ship, her hair gives off the strange appearance of a copper glint. When in actuality, it is a red tinted, charred oak color, almost to dark to really be called brown in most situations. Her eyes—although they are a warm amber flecked brown are often shadowed by thick darkened lashes, near constant lack of sleep.
She can more often than not be seen sporting dress slacks, of various shades of black and gray, and shined ballet flats. The woman makes a habit of forgoing the wearing of any type of heel, given the click-clacking grates on her nerves. While she prefers to wear clothing typical of those who spend more than her fair share in the laboratory she seems to have an aversion to wearing lab coats—and makes a habit of replacing said coat with similar colored button-down long sleeves, or blouses. Noami dresses as though she believes business clothing to be causal and lounge wear to be used only for special occasions. Aside from a small silver bracelet with one tarnished charm on it—she wears no jewelry.
Avatar Physical Description:
Although Naomi had anticipated being assigned an Avatar of her very own—she was hesitant about how it would look, having both her DNA and the DNA of the Na’vi—because of this when she received the photographs of what her avatar looked like she would hid them in an envelope without looking. Through a few of the scientist she knew and worked with-gradually using their own words she pieced together what her Avatar looked like.
”I don’t know how to describe it,” Doctor Sorian confessed, before he continued, ”it’s a strange blend of human and alien—all limbs have been increasingly elongated and narrowed—which given how tall you were to begin with, your Avatar will be of formidable size I’m sure.”
The young research assistant clasped her hands together, and gave a slight bemused smile,”You’ll definitely turn heads with that cyan colored skin, and your markings, almost like you borrowed some tiger’s stripes and laid them over your entire body. I’m not great with colors but I’d say they look cobalt to me. The eyes are rounded, large and very feline-even though they are a stark shade of yellow; they shimmer and go well with your skin.”
”Yes well…I’m just a simple medical officer, but there are some definite changes to your anatomy—in fact with the exception of the slight twist and curl of your hair-like fibers, I don’t see much of you in your Avatar. Tall, slender pointed ears, elongated canines, a protruding cat-like nose; you don’t look like you Naomi. Did you know your…what was the word they had for it, ah yes, Queue is a soft glowing magenta color? It’s fascinating…and your tail, I’m fairly certain it will nearly drag the ground if you’re not careful with it.”
”Love listen…this trip, are you sure you want to go through with it—they’ve got plenty of linguists I’m sure.” Marcus—the man who’d shared her bed longer than any other seemed sad as her smiled, he knew she wouldn’t changed her mind, he knew how she’d hate him asking her to stay—she wasn’t that kind of woman after all. He sighed before he continued, ”Ya look sexy—weird but sexy, I mean…I didn’t really think I could go for a woman in blue—let alone a woman that towers over me by several feet,” he shot her a playful grin and she couldn’t help but smile. ”You may be taller, sleeker, have hair down to the back of that cute alien ass of yours—but your still Naomi…don’t forget that, you do languages, not fighting…you remember that doll and come back to me.” She shook her head and smiled, promised him in a hushed voice she’d be safe, that she would come back—but even as they kissed and spent their last night together she knew it was a lie, and if Marcus knew anything about her, he’d known it too.
Personality:
Exacting and cynical, tend to be the words of choice when describing Naomi’s personality. However to make the statement and leave it at that seems unjustified. The woman has her personality short-comings, tedium, cynicism and sarcasm being a few. However Naomi is unnaturally gifted when it comes to perception and intuition—although she makes no immediate effort to share her understanding of peoples of her planet, as well as the Na’vi. She does find it rather easy to empathize with both. She’s an unsung genius when it comes to being able to handle and diffuse arguments—even if she herself starts them from time to time. Naomi is calm, slow to speak and slow to anger, unless that is someone has interrupted her studying.
She considers her duties on board, the and off of the ship to be of the utmost importance. As such she’ll often let lesser activities, such as socializing or even eating, and sleeping take a back burner. Due to her penchant for spending countless hours holed away in a small study pouring over translation data, dialectal notation and innumerable books on Na’vi behavior and etiquette-she’s earned herself the title of anti-social. Anti-social, being the nicer of the two tiles, the second being work-o-holic. That being said it is no surprise that Naomi is married to her work. She often thinks of spending time doing other things, as infidelity. Which, could explain why she is so often takes any chance to leave her books and work elsewhere, with a wry smile.
Despite her intensity, her habit of disappearing from large groups in favor of expanding her knowledge she knows how to have fun. On earth-even with her personality quirks she was quite a well known wild cat among her small circle of friends. Known for her addition to flirting and phobia of long term commitment, Naomi could almost seem to live duel lives. One stoic, cynical and secretly understanding, and the other wild, carefree and lust driven, enough of a different to question a diagnoses for schizophrenia, or at least that’s what she’d been told jokingly several times by colleagues would have become friends. So far on board the ship she’s managed to keep her wild lifestyle low-key and buried under her work, but at twenty six it seems doubtful that the leopard will be able to hide her spots for long.
Talents:
Linguist//Self-trait
From early on in her academic career Naomi had to learn languages—being a native of Russia, it was expected she be able to have a working knowledge of several dialects even within her own countries borders. While attending grade school she was taught English and even at a young age developed a zeal and desire to continue to learn them. It wasn’t until early in her college year had she had the opportunity to learn languages that stretched beyond the world she called home. Xenolinguistics was what she ended up minoring in and obtaining a duel degree in. While Naomi is qualified to act as a translator for various members on her ship—her true purpose for being on the Green Mother is for translating between the native Na’vi and the scientists both for diplomatic reasons as well as scientific.
Diplomacy//Self-trait
While she rarely advertises this skill—Naomi does have an uncanny ability of being able to diffuse stressful and tense situations. Being a person who relies heavily on the spoken word—she can be very soothing and charismatic when she feels it is needed. While she is certain that the treaty between the Na’vi and Green Mother, will probably hold—she has been practicing this skill, just in case anything negative should happen.
Adaptability//Self-trait/Avatar trait
Being calm and collected—as Naomi generally is, lends her great strength when it comes to adapting to her changing surrounds. As a translator—she was honed the skill of thinking on her feet, being able to judge a situation and translate the meaning accordingly. While in her Avatar state this trait has expressed itself in her ability to move with grace and easy in her new form. She rarely struggles when she calls upon her body for speed, strength or stamina—and while others are often disoriented after they make a connection with their Avatars—Naomi can immediately act and react well in hers.
History:
The ink had barely dried on her diploma, before Naomi’s mind hastily forced her to run over the last few years of her life. After the subsequent fallout of the RDA and their failure on the planet Pandora—what little economy the world had left seemed to be cracking and withering away at it’s foundation. Her home country as well as many others struggling to survive in the crisis’s wake were barely holding together-if it hadn’t been for her parents occupations Naomi—like many would have ended up destitute and homeless. Being the daughter of a highly decorated General and a sweet spirited if not pushy If it weren’t for her parents far reaching connections not to mention her exemplary transfer exam scores, the Russian native may never have had the chance to stand at the steps of this school Doctorate in hand. She itched to phone her father, her father who was no doubt busy with his newly married trophy wife. Before she was able to navigate the billowing fabric of a graduation gown for her cell, a gruff looking man clad in a crisp business suit stood stoically before her. If she were easier to scare off, she might have tried to turn and walk the other way, in stead she just tried to side step the behemoth and be on her way.
Through the rasps of what seemed like a lifetime or two of yelling—the man cleared his throat roughly, eyeing the woman carefully before speaking indirectly to her.
“Darvah, Naomi?”
The question made her pause, no normal human tried to start a conversation like you’d alphabetize books on a self, Poe,Edgar Allen, she scoffed. Either this man took elaborate measures to waster her time—or he--. Her train of thought was abruptly disrupted when he spoke, emotionlessly, as if he couldn’t figure out whether or not he should have kept talking. Hesitantly she raised a brow and warily replied—most due in part to the fact that he refused to let her pass.
“Yeah—that’d be me…now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll—“
“Darvah, born in Moscow Russia, daughter of a four star General Tovish Darvah, and Milla Darvah-former head of Education at one of Moscow’s finest secondary schools.”
Her bravado wavered as she listened to a complete stranger tick of her entire history like it was a list of groceries he needed to pick up from the store. Her birth in one of the better hospitals in town, the death of her younger brother, and the retirement of her father shortly after her mother was diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor. He’d failed to mention small tidbits in-between the major events—like how her mother was denied the chance to be a debutante in high society and how much she insisted in giving Naomi the chance (or forced it on her, whatever worked). He’d failed to speak on the fact that both her mother and her father skirted around telling their daughter her mother was dying until she’d had to find out herself at the ripe age of seventeen. Failed to talk about the hell she and her father went through those many years at the hospital—failed to talk about how he father turned to the bottle shortly after she’d been accepted into a foreign University half-way across the globe because of some well though of test scores.
Her brows furrowed, and her nose crinkled slightly—evidence of her annoyance, her frustration, her deep desire to keep old wounds from reopening. She’d come half-way around the world to get away from the memories of her mother. She came to the States on scholarship—and was determined to try and be the person her mother always told her she was, even if the young girl seemed to rebel and disappoint purposefully.
The suit rudely interrupted her eternal flashback for a second time when he continued to speak, “Graduated at the top of your class—double major in Xenomicrobiology and Linguistics—Doctorate in the former, minor in the latter…you’ve been quite the hard working woman—I wonder what it was you planned to do with that?”
Naomi found her emotions jump from irritation to worry. Now what would make a cleanly suited man—who spoke more like a robot than a human-suddenly sound so interested? Even though the moon had recently been colonized—new life from distant planets and the search and study thereof was a burgeoning field—a field many were not allowed into, let alone succeeded in—hence the double major—Language was intended to be her fallback. When the mission to Pandora failed it seemed many that had their hopes set toward the endless possibilities of space—decided to pull out in favor of something safer. Naomi—like many others chose to ride the fall out of RDA and silently hope for a second chance somewhere else, while most reacquainted themselves with the dreaded “fall-back,” plan—some remained hopefully optimistic. When she’d finally graduated with her Doctorate in Xenomicrobiology -there were only the barest of whispers of another mission to Pandora. She’d figured it to be just a cruel rumor circulated by fellow classmates and students who were studying to graduate into less futuristic fields.
He motioned hurried toward a parked vehicle near the bottom of the steps, it was sleek—looked newly cleaned and completely out of place. When she didn’t budge the man cleared his throat again, “Ms. Darvah, there is someone who’d like to speak without, but given the subject matter—he’d prefer to be in a somewhat less…crowded place.”
Again she didn’t move, and for the briefest of moments the man seemed to be at a loss as to what to do. If he wasn’t so animatronic-like she’d swear he was nervous. A slight chuckle came from behind her—a woman who seemed dressed for a movie shoot stepped in front of the board shouldered man, still seeming uneasy.
“Well, Jeffery why don’t you just black bag her and get it over with?” His eyes widened slightly—which must have meant he was pretty surprised at her comment. She didn’t say anything to him after that, instead the woman—who seemed to be well into her late forties smiled, and put hand out for a quick shake.
“Hello you must be Naomi—may I call you Naomi?” “Great and you can call me Janice, and now that we are on a first name basis—I have a business proposition for you.”
“The Green Mother, is a state of the earth ship capable of carrying a small select crew of 200 souls to a Planet know as Pandora—Yes I know you’ve heard of it before-but I can assure you we are in no way affiliated with RDA.” The woman across from her gently folded her hands onto her lap—a steaming mug of tea still setting untouched in front of her, she was staring intently at an applicant across from her—Darvah something—He’d neglected to ask for her first name, but after briefly skimming her file he already knew it was a done deal—Janice wanted her, end of story—all they needed was a signature on the dotted line, and what Xenomicrobiologist was going to pass up a chance to actually use their degree? Beside the compensation for the journey was nothing to look passed either. He gave the girl another quick once over through a one-way mirror into the room, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking—but Janice hadn’t even gotten warmed up yet.
“My company and I have taken an interest in what you have to offer our team Ms. Darvah—You’d be working with fellow scientists from all over the globe—all the best of their fields, Naomi,” the woman leaned slightly forward—she enjoyed this part of the speech, and no scientist or doctor worth their salt seemed to be able to resist. “Naomi, you’d be on the forefront of ground breaking research—this team could find a cure for some of the deadliest diseases…something that may even cure cancer.”
She’d read the girl’s history cover to cover—and knew instantly she couldn’t say no, Janice couldn’t read minds, but she didn’t have to, the girl in front of her just couldn’t say no. With a quick flick of a pen the company had found their microbiologist. Sure they had scientists from botany to zoology, but they didn’t have someone that could unlock the secrets of the microbes on Pandora. Every good corporate woman knew that it was bad business to overlook the small things.
The heel clad woman left her newest team member to pour over the paperwork with one of the company's many lawyers—as well as one of the team’s already employed scientists—after all they’d need DNA for her Avatar, now wouldn’t they?
“So Janice—you got another one…and you didn’t even have to wave the checkbook this time, my my have you been practicing in the mirror?”
“Even if I did, a lady never tells David.”
“So, you told her about the Avatar—and she agreed, does she even know about what lives on Pandora?”
“More or less, and besides, we have training and security for when they go hunting for samples. Why are you accusing me of not being honest with my staff?”
The woman raised her eyebrows daringly—but the slender, lab coated man didn’t speak. Her gaze flicked back to the woman, who was generously donating a blood sample—Janice smiled wryly.
David crossed his arms, clearly not as impressed,” What makes you think she’s worth the cost of an Avatar—it isn’t like we can grow them on trees,” smugly he raised a brow. It was the truth—the company only have enough for a little over a handful—and not just anyone got to gallivant around Pandora once they got there—if they even got to gallivant on the planet at all.
“Because, I’m confident about this one—she’s driven, eager, and she’s determined to find something even if it’s dangerous, even if it puts her life on the line.”
The man still didn’t seem convinced, but thought better of questioning his boss about it again.
“Oh I forgot to mention…good job on this one, it almost makes up for the last batch of pathetic applicants you wasted my time with…now get back to work—we’ve got a ship to fill.”
RP Sample: Please see Tey'lu or Nizana for an rp sample, thank you
Age: thirty two (including six years of cryosleep)
Secret Word: sent
Gender: female
Sexuality: whatever works—but she usually sticks with men
Race: human
Occupation: Xenomicrobiologist (also if it were possible she could help when Avatar training, since I see we don't have anyone currently filling that position)
Human Physical Description:
Long limbed and slender Naomi’s frame seems to distantly mirror that of the inhabitants on Pandora. She’s fair skinned but always manages the barest whisper of a tan due to her extended stays in the harvesting areas of the ship, its false sunlight affecting her as if she were on her home planet. Naomi takes great care in her physical fitness and because of this her musculature is extremely toned-despite her less than physically taxing occupation, the woman can easily out pace most of her colleagues with little effort. Her shoulders are defined and most of her features have a softened angular look about them—while she can be describe as attractive she makes no effort to purposely draw stares.
Naomi’s hair is rarely worn down, and she can most often be caught sporting tight regal buns, or messy pony-tails if she plans on spending several consecutive hours exercising her grasp on the native tongue of the Na’vi. On the very odd occasion that she wears her hair down one can plainly see just how long and curled it really is. Underneath the lights of the ship, her hair gives off the strange appearance of a copper glint. When in actuality, it is a red tinted, charred oak color, almost to dark to really be called brown in most situations. Her eyes—although they are a warm amber flecked brown are often shadowed by thick darkened lashes, near constant lack of sleep.
She can more often than not be seen sporting dress slacks, of various shades of black and gray, and shined ballet flats. The woman makes a habit of forgoing the wearing of any type of heel, given the click-clacking grates on her nerves. While she prefers to wear clothing typical of those who spend more than her fair share in the laboratory she seems to have an aversion to wearing lab coats—and makes a habit of replacing said coat with similar colored button-down long sleeves, or blouses. Noami dresses as though she believes business clothing to be causal and lounge wear to be used only for special occasions. Aside from a small silver bracelet with one tarnished charm on it—she wears no jewelry.
Avatar Physical Description:
Although Naomi had anticipated being assigned an Avatar of her very own—she was hesitant about how it would look, having both her DNA and the DNA of the Na’vi—because of this when she received the photographs of what her avatar looked like she would hid them in an envelope without looking. Through a few of the scientist she knew and worked with-gradually using their own words she pieced together what her Avatar looked like.
”I don’t know how to describe it,” Doctor Sorian confessed, before he continued, ”it’s a strange blend of human and alien—all limbs have been increasingly elongated and narrowed—which given how tall you were to begin with, your Avatar will be of formidable size I’m sure.”
The young research assistant clasped her hands together, and gave a slight bemused smile,”You’ll definitely turn heads with that cyan colored skin, and your markings, almost like you borrowed some tiger’s stripes and laid them over your entire body. I’m not great with colors but I’d say they look cobalt to me. The eyes are rounded, large and very feline-even though they are a stark shade of yellow; they shimmer and go well with your skin.”
”Yes well…I’m just a simple medical officer, but there are some definite changes to your anatomy—in fact with the exception of the slight twist and curl of your hair-like fibers, I don’t see much of you in your Avatar. Tall, slender pointed ears, elongated canines, a protruding cat-like nose; you don’t look like you Naomi. Did you know your…what was the word they had for it, ah yes, Queue is a soft glowing magenta color? It’s fascinating…and your tail, I’m fairly certain it will nearly drag the ground if you’re not careful with it.”
”Love listen…this trip, are you sure you want to go through with it—they’ve got plenty of linguists I’m sure.” Marcus—the man who’d shared her bed longer than any other seemed sad as her smiled, he knew she wouldn’t changed her mind, he knew how she’d hate him asking her to stay—she wasn’t that kind of woman after all. He sighed before he continued, ”Ya look sexy—weird but sexy, I mean…I didn’t really think I could go for a woman in blue—let alone a woman that towers over me by several feet,” he shot her a playful grin and she couldn’t help but smile. ”You may be taller, sleeker, have hair down to the back of that cute alien ass of yours—but your still Naomi…don’t forget that, you do languages, not fighting…you remember that doll and come back to me.” She shook her head and smiled, promised him in a hushed voice she’d be safe, that she would come back—but even as they kissed and spent their last night together she knew it was a lie, and if Marcus knew anything about her, he’d known it too.
Personality:
Exacting and cynical, tend to be the words of choice when describing Naomi’s personality. However to make the statement and leave it at that seems unjustified. The woman has her personality short-comings, tedium, cynicism and sarcasm being a few. However Naomi is unnaturally gifted when it comes to perception and intuition—although she makes no immediate effort to share her understanding of peoples of her planet, as well as the Na’vi. She does find it rather easy to empathize with both. She’s an unsung genius when it comes to being able to handle and diffuse arguments—even if she herself starts them from time to time. Naomi is calm, slow to speak and slow to anger, unless that is someone has interrupted her studying.
She considers her duties on board, the and off of the ship to be of the utmost importance. As such she’ll often let lesser activities, such as socializing or even eating, and sleeping take a back burner. Due to her penchant for spending countless hours holed away in a small study pouring over translation data, dialectal notation and innumerable books on Na’vi behavior and etiquette-she’s earned herself the title of anti-social. Anti-social, being the nicer of the two tiles, the second being work-o-holic. That being said it is no surprise that Naomi is married to her work. She often thinks of spending time doing other things, as infidelity. Which, could explain why she is so often takes any chance to leave her books and work elsewhere, with a wry smile.
Despite her intensity, her habit of disappearing from large groups in favor of expanding her knowledge she knows how to have fun. On earth-even with her personality quirks she was quite a well known wild cat among her small circle of friends. Known for her addition to flirting and phobia of long term commitment, Naomi could almost seem to live duel lives. One stoic, cynical and secretly understanding, and the other wild, carefree and lust driven, enough of a different to question a diagnoses for schizophrenia, or at least that’s what she’d been told jokingly several times by colleagues would have become friends. So far on board the ship she’s managed to keep her wild lifestyle low-key and buried under her work, but at twenty six it seems doubtful that the leopard will be able to hide her spots for long.
Talents:
Linguist//Self-trait
From early on in her academic career Naomi had to learn languages—being a native of Russia, it was expected she be able to have a working knowledge of several dialects even within her own countries borders. While attending grade school she was taught English and even at a young age developed a zeal and desire to continue to learn them. It wasn’t until early in her college year had she had the opportunity to learn languages that stretched beyond the world she called home. Xenolinguistics was what she ended up minoring in and obtaining a duel degree in. While Naomi is qualified to act as a translator for various members on her ship—her true purpose for being on the Green Mother is for translating between the native Na’vi and the scientists both for diplomatic reasons as well as scientific.
Diplomacy//Self-trait
While she rarely advertises this skill—Naomi does have an uncanny ability of being able to diffuse stressful and tense situations. Being a person who relies heavily on the spoken word—she can be very soothing and charismatic when she feels it is needed. While she is certain that the treaty between the Na’vi and Green Mother, will probably hold—she has been practicing this skill, just in case anything negative should happen.
Adaptability//Self-trait/Avatar trait
Being calm and collected—as Naomi generally is, lends her great strength when it comes to adapting to her changing surrounds. As a translator—she was honed the skill of thinking on her feet, being able to judge a situation and translate the meaning accordingly. While in her Avatar state this trait has expressed itself in her ability to move with grace and easy in her new form. She rarely struggles when she calls upon her body for speed, strength or stamina—and while others are often disoriented after they make a connection with their Avatars—Naomi can immediately act and react well in hers.
History:
The ink had barely dried on her diploma, before Naomi’s mind hastily forced her to run over the last few years of her life. After the subsequent fallout of the RDA and their failure on the planet Pandora—what little economy the world had left seemed to be cracking and withering away at it’s foundation. Her home country as well as many others struggling to survive in the crisis’s wake were barely holding together-if it hadn’t been for her parents occupations Naomi—like many would have ended up destitute and homeless. Being the daughter of a highly decorated General and a sweet spirited if not pushy If it weren’t for her parents far reaching connections not to mention her exemplary transfer exam scores, the Russian native may never have had the chance to stand at the steps of this school Doctorate in hand. She itched to phone her father, her father who was no doubt busy with his newly married trophy wife. Before she was able to navigate the billowing fabric of a graduation gown for her cell, a gruff looking man clad in a crisp business suit stood stoically before her. If she were easier to scare off, she might have tried to turn and walk the other way, in stead she just tried to side step the behemoth and be on her way.
Through the rasps of what seemed like a lifetime or two of yelling—the man cleared his throat roughly, eyeing the woman carefully before speaking indirectly to her.
“Darvah, Naomi?”
The question made her pause, no normal human tried to start a conversation like you’d alphabetize books on a self, Poe,Edgar Allen, she scoffed. Either this man took elaborate measures to waster her time—or he--. Her train of thought was abruptly disrupted when he spoke, emotionlessly, as if he couldn’t figure out whether or not he should have kept talking. Hesitantly she raised a brow and warily replied—most due in part to the fact that he refused to let her pass.
“Yeah—that’d be me…now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll—“
“Darvah, born in Moscow Russia, daughter of a four star General Tovish Darvah, and Milla Darvah-former head of Education at one of Moscow’s finest secondary schools.”
Her bravado wavered as she listened to a complete stranger tick of her entire history like it was a list of groceries he needed to pick up from the store. Her birth in one of the better hospitals in town, the death of her younger brother, and the retirement of her father shortly after her mother was diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor. He’d failed to mention small tidbits in-between the major events—like how her mother was denied the chance to be a debutante in high society and how much she insisted in giving Naomi the chance (or forced it on her, whatever worked). He’d failed to speak on the fact that both her mother and her father skirted around telling their daughter her mother was dying until she’d had to find out herself at the ripe age of seventeen. Failed to talk about the hell she and her father went through those many years at the hospital—failed to talk about how he father turned to the bottle shortly after she’d been accepted into a foreign University half-way across the globe because of some well though of test scores.
Her brows furrowed, and her nose crinkled slightly—evidence of her annoyance, her frustration, her deep desire to keep old wounds from reopening. She’d come half-way around the world to get away from the memories of her mother. She came to the States on scholarship—and was determined to try and be the person her mother always told her she was, even if the young girl seemed to rebel and disappoint purposefully.
The suit rudely interrupted her eternal flashback for a second time when he continued to speak, “Graduated at the top of your class—double major in Xenomicrobiology and Linguistics—Doctorate in the former, minor in the latter…you’ve been quite the hard working woman—I wonder what it was you planned to do with that?”
Naomi found her emotions jump from irritation to worry. Now what would make a cleanly suited man—who spoke more like a robot than a human-suddenly sound so interested? Even though the moon had recently been colonized—new life from distant planets and the search and study thereof was a burgeoning field—a field many were not allowed into, let alone succeeded in—hence the double major—Language was intended to be her fallback. When the mission to Pandora failed it seemed many that had their hopes set toward the endless possibilities of space—decided to pull out in favor of something safer. Naomi—like many others chose to ride the fall out of RDA and silently hope for a second chance somewhere else, while most reacquainted themselves with the dreaded “fall-back,” plan—some remained hopefully optimistic. When she’d finally graduated with her Doctorate in Xenomicrobiology -there were only the barest of whispers of another mission to Pandora. She’d figured it to be just a cruel rumor circulated by fellow classmates and students who were studying to graduate into less futuristic fields.
He motioned hurried toward a parked vehicle near the bottom of the steps, it was sleek—looked newly cleaned and completely out of place. When she didn’t budge the man cleared his throat again, “Ms. Darvah, there is someone who’d like to speak without, but given the subject matter—he’d prefer to be in a somewhat less…crowded place.”
Again she didn’t move, and for the briefest of moments the man seemed to be at a loss as to what to do. If he wasn’t so animatronic-like she’d swear he was nervous. A slight chuckle came from behind her—a woman who seemed dressed for a movie shoot stepped in front of the board shouldered man, still seeming uneasy.
“Well, Jeffery why don’t you just black bag her and get it over with?” His eyes widened slightly—which must have meant he was pretty surprised at her comment. She didn’t say anything to him after that, instead the woman—who seemed to be well into her late forties smiled, and put hand out for a quick shake.
“Hello you must be Naomi—may I call you Naomi?” “Great and you can call me Janice, and now that we are on a first name basis—I have a business proposition for you.”
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“The Green Mother, is a state of the earth ship capable of carrying a small select crew of 200 souls to a Planet know as Pandora—Yes I know you’ve heard of it before-but I can assure you we are in no way affiliated with RDA.” The woman across from her gently folded her hands onto her lap—a steaming mug of tea still setting untouched in front of her, she was staring intently at an applicant across from her—Darvah something—He’d neglected to ask for her first name, but after briefly skimming her file he already knew it was a done deal—Janice wanted her, end of story—all they needed was a signature on the dotted line, and what Xenomicrobiologist was going to pass up a chance to actually use their degree? Beside the compensation for the journey was nothing to look passed either. He gave the girl another quick once over through a one-way mirror into the room, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking—but Janice hadn’t even gotten warmed up yet.
“My company and I have taken an interest in what you have to offer our team Ms. Darvah—You’d be working with fellow scientists from all over the globe—all the best of their fields, Naomi,” the woman leaned slightly forward—she enjoyed this part of the speech, and no scientist or doctor worth their salt seemed to be able to resist. “Naomi, you’d be on the forefront of ground breaking research—this team could find a cure for some of the deadliest diseases…something that may even cure cancer.”
She’d read the girl’s history cover to cover—and knew instantly she couldn’t say no, Janice couldn’t read minds, but she didn’t have to, the girl in front of her just couldn’t say no. With a quick flick of a pen the company had found their microbiologist. Sure they had scientists from botany to zoology, but they didn’t have someone that could unlock the secrets of the microbes on Pandora. Every good corporate woman knew that it was bad business to overlook the small things.
The heel clad woman left her newest team member to pour over the paperwork with one of the company's many lawyers—as well as one of the team’s already employed scientists—after all they’d need DNA for her Avatar, now wouldn’t they?
“So Janice—you got another one…and you didn’t even have to wave the checkbook this time, my my have you been practicing in the mirror?”
“Even if I did, a lady never tells David.”
“So, you told her about the Avatar—and she agreed, does she even know about what lives on Pandora?”
“More or less, and besides, we have training and security for when they go hunting for samples. Why are you accusing me of not being honest with my staff?”
The woman raised her eyebrows daringly—but the slender, lab coated man didn’t speak. Her gaze flicked back to the woman, who was generously donating a blood sample—Janice smiled wryly.
David crossed his arms, clearly not as impressed,” What makes you think she’s worth the cost of an Avatar—it isn’t like we can grow them on trees,” smugly he raised a brow. It was the truth—the company only have enough for a little over a handful—and not just anyone got to gallivant around Pandora once they got there—if they even got to gallivant on the planet at all.
“Because, I’m confident about this one—she’s driven, eager, and she’s determined to find something even if it’s dangerous, even if it puts her life on the line.”
The man still didn’t seem convinced, but thought better of questioning his boss about it again.
“Oh I forgot to mention…good job on this one, it almost makes up for the last batch of pathetic applicants you wasted my time with…now get back to work—we’ve got a ship to fill.”
RP Sample: Please see Tey'lu or Nizana for an rp sample, thank you
