Ivory Hill had spent the majority of her adult life running. Throughout her twenties and the first part of her thirties it was from bombs and bullets. Now, at thirty six years old Ivory was running from something that she could never truly escape fr...
Ivory put the bowl of black paint down on the table of Site Twenty Six. "Do you actually know what you're doing?"
"Sure I do." Jake bluffed, wheeling himself over to the edge of the table. "Sit down." He ran a hand through his closely cropped brown hair.
Ivory sank down opposite him, tightening her bandana so that it no longer sagged down.
"I think it's meant to be on your..." Jake trailed off, dipping his fingertips into the paint. He cupped his clean hand under the woman's chin, holding her face still as he pressed a painted thumb against her skin.
"Are you sure you're doing this right?"
"Have some faith in me Vee," Jake swiped his fingers down the left side of her forehead and down the bridge of her nose then repeated the movement on the right side, creating a slightly curved triangle. The man sat back, examining Ivory's face. "Huh. That came out better than I thought."
"Thanks." Ivory blew her hair out of her eyes.
"You can touch your face once it's dry, the Na'vi made it so it won't smudge. It's a bitch to wash off."
"What do they make it from?"
"You don't want to know," Jake said quickly.
Trudy shoved the door open with her foot and stepped into the room, her arms laden with clothes.
"Baby be careful you're dropping everything." Norm bent down with difficulty, struggling not to drop the clothes that he already held as he went to pick up a sock.
Trudy shrugged, dumping her clothes on the table. "Wanna help me fold?" She looked between Jake and Ivory hopefully.
"Are you really doing laundry now?" Ivory picked up a crumpled T-shirt and shook it out.
Norm added his clothes to the pile. "What time do we leave?"
"We ride at dawn, bitches!" Jake picked up a pair of jeans that had fallen on the arm of his wheelchair and tossed them back onto the pile.
Ivory rolled her eyes. "He means eight."
"I washed your clothes for you." Trudy passed Ivory one of her tank tops.
"Thanks, now I can die smelling like cherry blossom."
"We were out of that detergent, we're all going to die smelling like an ocean breeze." Trudy corrected.
The dark haired woman shrugged her shoulders. "I do enjoy swimming."
Norm deftly folded a pair of jeans. "If they bring out a new Disney film and I'm not around to see it I'm going to be pissed."
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Grace slipped into the lab a little before ten holding two steaming mugs of coffee. "Here." She put one down beside Ivory who was bent over a map.
The woman didn't look up.
Grace reached down and rubbed her thumb over the scar on Ivory's cheek.
"Huh?" The woman didn't take her eyes away from the sheet of paper in front of her.
"Coffee." Grace explained, putting her own mug down on the table.
"Oh, thanks." Ivory shrugged off Grace's hoodie and hung it over the back of the chair.
Grace's brow creased as she caught sight of the yellow paint that covered Ivory's right arm. "Did you ask for that colour?"
"No." Ivory tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, refusing to meet the redhead's eyes.
"Do you know what it means?" Grace demanded, her voice rising.
"Yes." Ivory's tone was defiant.
"Ivy you can't just-"
"First part of military training- complete the mission or die trying. You knew the risks when I agreed to fight Grace and you can't stop me."
"When you agreed to I thought I'd be fighting too." Grace said quietly.
Ivory brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Complete the mission or die trying is a non negotiable."
"That isn't a reasonable argument Ivy."
"Grace I don't want to die knowing the last conversation we had was an argument." Ivory said earnestly.
"You've written yourself off already?" Grace squeezed her eyes shut, worried that if she kept them open she wouldn't be able to stop the tears from falling.
"We both know that Trudy, Jake Norm and I are all fucked, plans or not we're going to end up dying."
Grace opened her eyes and folded her arms, glaring at her girlfriend. "I'm coming with you, end of. You know that there's nothing you can do to stop me."
