Three Strikes [✓]

Destructive Tendencies

Warily, she looked towards Avril, only lifting her head slightly to get a clear look of her expression. Naomi furrowed her brow, scanning Avril's face and eyes for any sign of hatred or fear. There wasn't anything there. Well, no more than usual. Naomi straightened up, crossing her arms. "So...if you know about my 'interesting' heritage, then why are you here?" she asked, tilting her head to one side curiously. Avril blinked, taken aback by the question. It was the first time Naomi saw her look even mildly startled by anything. She didn't answer the question, and Naomi clenched her jaw. In hindsight, maybe that wasn't the best way to ask her. If she wanted to be alone, that was a good way to drive someone off. Quickly, she added, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way...er...kinda. But, why are you here? I thought McKinsey gave you the day off for fixing up the Cyclops planes."

"He did." Avril said simply. She nodded towards Naomi's plane, her smirk returning and her eyes glinting in a mischievous sort of way. "But that doesn't mean I have to take it."

"I'm a little confused," Naomi admitted. A day off at the penal base was a blessing and all of them jumped at any opportunity they got for rest, so the fact that Avril turned down a day that McKinsey willingly gave her off was perplexing. "You turned down a day to just lay in bed and do nothing to come outside to fix up a bunch of lowlifes' planes?"

Avril forced a chuckle. "I mean, not much of a bed, really," she replied. "And I spend enough time in that cell as it is. I needed to stretch my legs and it's not like any of you keep your planes in good condition. Work's never done around here." With a soft grunt, she began to limp towards one side of the plane before coming back around again and stopping next to Naomi. "You smell that burnt smell?" Naomi took a deep breath and then nodded, screwing up her nose. It smelled like someone was trying to cook rubber and tar. It kind of burned and it surprised Naomi that she hadn't noticed it before. Avril grinned and clapped Naomi on her shoulder. "Well, that is why I'm here."

Naomi stared at her. "Uh, what?"

"Well, that burnt smell says something about your flying style," Avril explained with a surprising amount of patience as she began to look around the rear of the aircraft. Naomi wasn't used to Avril being so civil towards her. Avril continued, and Naomi listened to her intently. "You see, that smell comes from an engine being pushed to its limit. Now, I saw your flying earlier today and it mostly speaks for itself." The mechanic turned and crossed her arms, pausing to give her leg a break. "You're a hotdog."

"Excuse me?" Naomi let out a snort at the word Avril chose to use. She knew what it meant, at least with the context she had, but couldn't help but find the mental image that it provoked somewhat amusing. Naomi grinned, chuckling slightly. "I mean, I know what you mean, but 'hotdog'? Really? Couldn't you have used a better word?"

"No," Avril said, looking a little confused by Naomi's reaction. It was as if someone was told that they were a hotdog every day, even if they weren't talking about food. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, looking back at Naomi's plane. "As I was saying...you've already trashed one plane, and I don't want my hard work going to more waste than it already is. You keep up your ridiculous flying and I'm gonna have to keep a closer eye on you, dumbass." She looked at Naomi out of the corner of her eye before once again giving the plane her full attention. "Anyways. You need all the help you can get in the air, so I've decided to give your plane some of my magic touch."

Naomi nodded, not entirely sure what she should think. It seemed the oh-so-mighty Scrap Queen was coming down from her throne to mingle with the commoners. It was a bit of a harsh comparison, but Avril was extremely standoffish and Naomi wanted to know why — especially with Naomi's family history out in the open — Avril was suddenly so interested in helping her. She could understand Avril giving Tabloid a hand, since they'd formed some sort of a friendship (if you could call it that), but Naomi was another story. Although she was grateful, she was also suspicious of Avril's motives. "You know, it's not that I don't appreciate the offer," Naomi said slowly. "I really do appreciate it, but why do you want to help me?"