(Untitled)

[remindmeof_me]

Shephard's gonna be in Poland, or what used to be Poland, real damn soon. He's got a helicopter to fly and then a lot of hell to raise (once he gets past the throwing up part, which has unfortunately become pretty much ritual for him whenever he touches down successfully). He's just tidying up a thing or two before heading out, and by 'a thing or

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[donthidemycigs]

As far as Dr. Augustine is generally concerned, "don't" is the only conscionable answer to willingly approaching and speaking to anyone dressed in military fatigues. Especially ones with his kind of hobby. She's assuming the meticulous care he's taking with those teeth isn't meant to preserve them for scientific study.

At least he isn't polishing his gun.

She carries a coffee mug (whether or not it's actually filled with coffee is beside the point) to a table neighboring Shephard's, and pulls her smokes from her pocket. It gives her a chance to take a closer look at those canines.

[remindmeof_me]

Shephard's idea of preserving things for scientific study usually involves dissecting them out in the field and poking them until they ooze something he recognizes. Not that he would pass up someone else's research on critters' anatomy and physiology, if it was good and meant he didn't have to figure out what the hell the big yellow wiggly thing next to the lungs was.

Right now, he's making absolutely sure that every nook and cranny of the teeth are as clean as he can get them without causing damage or using chemicals, so there's some toothpicks and lint-free cloths involved. With elk teeth, you sometimes get one that's best just preserved whole and mounted somehow. With the right kind of bone, sometimes carving is the best use. The way he sees it, he needs to know these things properly before he starts doing anything to them beyond a good thorough cleaning.

He might notice the smell of tobacco if Grace has already lit up, but otherwise he's not likely to. Concentration. It's a thing.

[donthidemycigs]

Grace is proficient at fishing out a cigarette and having it lit halfway to her lips. She's not accustomed to waiting for things, and she's had a lot of time to practice.

She sits down gracelessly -- which she supposes is one of life's little jokes -- and studies Shephard between puffs and slow sips from her mug. She's pretty sure she's going to regret this, so having as much nicotine, caffeine, and any other -ine that could be in that mug running through her bloodstream as possible will hopefully make this a whole lot less painful.

"Craft project from home? Or is this place a hell of a lot more interesting than I thought?"

[remindmeof_me]

"Ain't from home, exactly, but these ain't from here." Shephard sets one of the teeth aside and glances up.

And blinks a few times, because while he is so far from geeky that his idea of a good scifi movie is Alien Vs. Predator, he has at least seen some clips from the original Alien.

He'll be okay in a moment, honest.

[hallelujahpilot]

"That from Earth or Pandora?" Chacon asks at last. She'd been watching him clean for a minute or two, weighing up conversation in her mind.

She's really not sure what she feels about him and Tsu'tey becoming such good friends, given the circumstances.

[remindmeof_me]

"Pandora," Shephard says. "Ain't seen a deer on Earth since that fucker in a suit thawed me out, which is a real goddamn shame."

[hallelujahpilot]

"One of the hexpedes?" Then, remembering that Tsu'tey would have said the Na'vi, she adds, "yerik?"

[remindmeof_me]

"Bingo," says Shephard, looking up from his work. "Arrow through the lungs. Tsu'tey's got the meat, I got the hide'n teeth."