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all_the_aangles) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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
"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