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songerein2024-05-21 09:07 pm
all_the_aangles) wrote in songerein2024-05-21 09:07 pm
[Closed] Changing of the Times
Who: Aang and Azula
Which: Closed Log
Where: Wildlands
What: Aang is picking up a hobby. Azula is an early discoverer of this.
Warnings: None
One of the things he remembered most fondly about the Temple was what people did there. The place had always been alive - full of activity. The Air Nomads had certainly not been dull, that much was certain. The temple was ever and always bustling, flags fluttering everywhere - the smells and sights of artisans giving the high edifice a unique character.
And the longer he spent in this odd dreamland, the more he remembered it. Perhaps it was the child's view of it - but he remembered the joy. The longer he was away from his friends, the more it was something devoutly to be wished.
So he'd set up a space in the Wildlands, and gathered the necessary supplies. Namely, paint and sands. Plenty of sand.
The first few attempts took a good deal of time, and were...well, deeply flawed. Not that he minded. He smiled at each, come the end.
But he'd get better with each one. He remembered this. He looked at the colours, waiting for inspiration. Finally, it came - and he made an unusual selection.
Once again, he began.
Which: Closed Log
Where: Wildlands
What: Aang is picking up a hobby. Azula is an early discoverer of this.
Warnings: None
One of the things he remembered most fondly about the Temple was what people did there. The place had always been alive - full of activity. The Air Nomads had certainly not been dull, that much was certain. The temple was ever and always bustling, flags fluttering everywhere - the smells and sights of artisans giving the high edifice a unique character.
And the longer he spent in this odd dreamland, the more he remembered it. Perhaps it was the child's view of it - but he remembered the joy. The longer he was away from his friends, the more it was something devoutly to be wished.
So he'd set up a space in the Wildlands, and gathered the necessary supplies. Namely, paint and sands. Plenty of sand.
The first few attempts took a good deal of time, and were...well, deeply flawed. Not that he minded. He smiled at each, come the end.
But he'd get better with each one. He remembered this. He looked at the colours, waiting for inspiration. Finally, it came - and he made an unusual selection.
Once again, he began.
no subject
So she's running.
The first thing she notices is the fire. It doesn't seem normal- not a campfire, not any natural occurrence. Zuko was gone. Uncle barely even bothered firebending anymore, she hadn't seen him try since the Story Eater the year before. It could be somebody else with fire abilities, she supposes.
It's not until she's nearly reached the source of the fire that her mistake occurs to her. She'd only rarely seen it, but of course, of course the Avatar was still a firebender. And she's just nearly stumbled into him.
Her initial impulse is to leave, but as she's turning to slip away, she finds herself pausing briefly to glance at his work. It looks like... some sort of sculpted glass?
no subject
He blinks a few times, considering his response. She doesn't look...good, certainly.
"Oh, hey, uh...want some water?" He gestures at a nearby canteen. "Haven't used it yet. Just getting into some old habits, here."
He says that while holding a molten lump of glass suspended between his hands. Not quite earthbending, not quite waterbending, and yet both at the same time. But, like so much with the Avatar, there was much to be said for the place where things met.
no subject
"That won't be necessary."
It comes out harsh and snappish, and it surprises her how much that bothers her for some reason. Purposeless, she supposes. She stares down at the lump of molten glass again, frowning.
"It... wasn't my intention. To interrupt you."
It's not exactly an apology.
no subject
The last said with a bit of a rueful chuckle.
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It comes out defensive rather than dismissive. The comment... stings, which is vexing in its own right.
She should just end the conversation there, she thinks. Leave him in peace. Leave herself in peace. Either way, she's not at all certain what compels her to ask-
"Why bring this all the way out here, anyway? Surely there's a workspace closer to all the... people."
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"Sometimes the solitude helps. Let's me think through things. And it keeps it from being too many people coming by to ask questions."
He pauses, looking thoughtful.
"I think all our journeys together - Katara, Sokka, Toph and I - made me appreciate the space more."
no subject
Ugh, for once she doesn't want to be nasty and she can't seem to stop herself.
"Finding space to myself was never really a problem for me."
Aaaand that sounded bitter instead. Rrgh. She shouldn't have even said anything- it wasn't as if he had any reason to care anyway.
no subject
But her second comment - he nods.
"I've yet to meet any royalty who didn't feel alone most of the time. I imagine it must have been - is still worse for you."
Having been on the search for her mother, he does speak from some experience. On top of everything else.
no subject
Ugh, it's like a reflex, it slips out unbidden yet again. She grits her teeth, takes a breath, and forces a detached neutral expression- not even her typical smirk.
"I'm sure you'd agree, it's probably better for all parties if it... stays that way."
There's a moment of hesitation there, a moment where the composure slips slightly and reveals a glimpse of bitterness yet again, but she reassembles the dispassionate mask immediately.
no subject
Then there's the other statement and he stops, the glass growing a bit dimmer in his hands at the sudden cooling.
"And no, I don't think that. You don't deserve to suffer, or be forced to be alone. Nobody deserves that."
no subject
What?!
"Deserved has nothing to- surely, you of all people, can-"
Flustered. At a loss for words. She hates this... this failure of composure. This openness. It feels like exposing a weakness, especially when she speaks to Aang of all people. She takes another breath to recompose herself.
"My meaning, which I assumed was obvious, was that in all likelihood if I allowed myself to get close to somebody I would only hurt him."
Rrgh. She'd meant 'them,' but she decides that correcting the error would only draw attention to it.
no subject
He pauses a moment, not at all sure what to say.
"Well, that's..." he pauses. Then starts again. "That's the thing, there's always risk. But there's two people involved in these things - both are making a decision, right? Besides, the only way to reduce the risk is to experience, and learn. Any kind of relationship is a learning process."
He manages a smile, getting back to work.
"It's worth the risk, in the end. And just like learning bending. Starts off slow, and becomes something amazing."
no subject
"... I meant any interaction I have with people. I seem to have a knack for hurting those around me. Friends, relatives, potential allies-"
And that sounded like a feeble excuse and this was excruciating, and if a chasm to the Boiling Rock opened up between the two of them she would pitch herself headfirst into it.
"I'm just... better off avoiding people. I thought you of all people would agree with that."
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He shakes his head, really getting back to work.
"I'm too used to seeing you confident in yourself, I guess - but it's strange seeing you back down from a challenge. Everybody makes mistakes with people, Azula, everyone. You've just got to practice a little more than most people. And learn that being open and a bit vulnerable with others isn't a chance for them to stick a knife in."
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It feels unreal, even after over a year and a half.
"... surely the greater risk is that I would be the opportunist with the knife, if anybody was foolish enough to trust me."
And it's true, that confidence, well- that's been visibly eroded from her former untouchable persona. Even the faint posturing she'd done when Aang arrived last year, or the dismissiveness when she first ran into him today, are gone now. She just looks... tired. Tired and miserable.
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"I think it's pretty clear you've chosen flight over fight, this time."
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She takes a breath and composes herself again. She used to be so good at this, and now-
"Surely that's worth a little isolation. Why are we even talking about me right now?"
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He shakes his head.
"You can't run from this. From yourself. Believe me, I've tried it. Life catches up with you regardless. If you want to stop, you have to choose to stop. You have to choose to open yourself up to people. It won't be fast, it won't be easy, but...it's a choice that has to be made. And then you keep making it."
He finishes what he's doing, creating a small cloud of steam as he cools off his creation.
"You can do this. I know you have the will. I know it's easy to be...afraid. Of the consequences, of what can go wrong, however you want to put it. Believe me, I know."
He moved then, placing an object in her hands - the symbol for firebending, forged in orange-red glass.
"Just remember that fire might burn, but it also helps create. Nothing is just one thing. You aren't here just to hurt."
no subject
She stares at him for a long moment, the hostility and defensiveness fading from her face entirely. Her gaze drops down to the glass in her hands, then back up to him.
"... What?"
She was almost- almost- prepared to believe he felt obligated to get along with her out of some sort of moral principle, or perhaps that he even felt genuine pity for her.
But one thing she had no answer for, no explanation, was... this. Whatever this was. An expression of faith? Of confidence? Of encouragement?
"... A nauseatingly sentimental perspective."
Despite the sneer she forces into her voice, she still holds the sculpture slightly closer and more carefully as she says it.
no subject
But in the end, everybody deserved that chance - and he remembered well Zuko's hopes for his sister. And so, ignoring the itch down his spine, he nods, and just smiles.
"The best ones always seem that way until you try them," he replies. "But they grow on you. In you, really."
no subject
"You are the most nonsensical person."
She can't figure out if he genuinely wants to help her or if he really does know better but he insists on sincerely helping her out of principle. But either way, he was trying to help her, apparently in earnest.
And more bafflingly, he'd... succeeded. She did feel some... thing. She couldn't put a name to it, but it was positive. The little fool made her felt better. It was actually mildly infuriating.
She eyes the glass sculpture he handed her, if only by way of a distraction.
"... this is competently crafted."
It was sort of a compliment. It was sort of like gratitude. Sort of.
no subject