[She knows she should talk to him. She knows he needs to know. She knows she can't avoid him. More importantly, she knows that she wants to talk to him, which is... odd. It's like a nagging urge in the back of her head. She's gotten used to being around him.
She doesn't even mind, except that she knows he's not going to like what she has to say. He's going to get all worried, going to try to stop her, or worse, try to help her-
Well. she'll worry about that when it comes.
This time, she's secured a dessert more familiar and palatable to her- a box of fruit mochi and tea cakes, one of the relatively few foods that resemble those from home- but she's still made sure to keep some lemon ones in there for him.
She hesitates, but knocks on his door.]
We've often rewound the clock (Locked to Aang/@all_the_aangles)
[She knows where she has to go. She knows what has to be done. But she hates it- despises it, even. She feels like a failure. She feels like-
Well, she feels like many things.
She struggles to keep control as she flies to find him, the Noctaere phoenix form dissolving around her as she struggles to keep it restrained. She comes for a landing, but the flames vanish before she can land properly, and she winds up crashing roughly into the foliage. It begins to erupt into flames around her, licks of blue fire still erupting from around her skin, heat radiating from her body.
Her eyes are no longer amber-gold, instead glowing a vivid, unnatural blue as she fixes him with her intense stare.]
Av-
[No.]
Aang. I need your help.
[She tries to sound collected, calm, but it's a losing battle. Panicked, gritting her teeth in pain, eyes wild, voice uneven. The blue fire sputters erratically around her with each breath.]
[These days, he's taken to living in a small cabin, far out away from others. It seems...best, somehow. The days are getting darker, and his abilities might, if misapplied, make them darker still.]
[Caution is called for. And a semblance of normalcy, if he can manage it.]
[But it turns out that Azula can always surprise him. Not just with her arrival. Not just with the state of her, but with pleading. He rushes from his cabin, running to her side.]
[She takes a step back as he approaches, instinctively warding him away.]
I-
[Another flare of blue fire rushes over her body, and she hisses in pain.]
T-tried to help. He w-went Noctaere. Couldn't- couldn't stop him. Not without-
[...He doesn't know who you mean, you're babbling, this isn't helpful, just-
She winces at another flare, her eyes glowing more brightly before she screws them closed, hissing a few ragged breaths to force herself to speak steadily.]
I need you to... take my bending. Before I... turn again.
[There's a frustration that turns to rage, and it wells off of her in a wave of heat. The foliage around her begins to smolder and smoke again, sparks beginning to form in the dry twigs and leaves and threatening to ignite.
She takes another breath, tries to calm the swell of anger and frustration and terror.]
Last time I went Noctaere, I- [Another hiss of pained breath, but she grits her teeth and keeps talking.] I transformed into a phoenix. I- hurt people.
[She hates this. She knows it's necessary, knows it's the only way, but she hates it nonetheless.]
It was my firebending that- that made me so- [This time, she can't quite restrain a grunt of struggle.] dangerous. You need to-
[She doesn't manage to finish the statement, as another wave of heat begins to ignite the smoldering leaves around her and she doubles over in pain.]
[First things first, the fire. He pushes quickly back to his feet, moving his hands to pull water from the cabin's nearby well, throwing it into the air over them - and then shifting to heat it with a gust of fire of his own - so in the end what begins to fall down is a gentle, warm rain - a few moments of relief. A few moments to think.]
[He moves back to her side, risking putting a hand out, onto her shoulder.]
Azula - I don't...I don't want to - don't make me do that, you can beat this, you can make it.
[The sudden fall of rain seems to mitigate the fire spreading from her body, as well, though it also seems to steam and hiss as it hits her. Her shoulder is almost painfully hot to touch even through the fabric of her torn and singed tunic.
She stares at him for a moment- horror and frustration warring with sheer bewilderment in her eyes- and then they're all cut off by another surge of pain.]
This isn't the time for your goody-goody sentimentality, you fool!
[Her fists clench so hard that her arms shake, teeth gritting, just to try and focus her, keep her grounded enough to talk.]
You haven't seen it- what I... was, what these... things are-
[Another wave of fire wafts out of her but is quickly quenched by the rain.]
... I can't h-hurt him again. You c-can't let me hurt him again.
Oddly as I typed 'instincts', the Red Green episode did a word game...for 'Instincts'.
[He knows what it looks like. He's seen it. He's seen his own hands raise up, and destroy an entire fleet. He knows, Azula.]
[He knows. And the look in his eyes will communicate that clearly - he has seen so much, and knows what he is capable of, every day. But she's in pain, and this is a crisis, and he can't...he doesn't...and it would be...simple, wouldn't it? A solution that would make her...harmless.]
[It's a desperately seductive thought. To bury one nightmare with another. So quick, so easy. So wrong.]
[He closes his eyes, instincts warring with each other. And finally, one of them wins. He pulls her closer, actually giving her something akin to a hug, a moment of companionship for what has to come next.]
Azula. I need to you to listen to me. And believe me, like you never have before. This is a part of you, so you can control it. I can help you.
[The insistence takes her by surprise, and that moment of eye contact is- surprising.
She remembers, then, what the reflection of him had been like. The Avatar State, completely uncontrolled, a force of nature that he'd had to protect her from.
...maybe he did understand. All the more reason that he should take this seriously. If even he was capable of losing control like that, then why wouldn't he just-
...just...
What?
When he pulls her closer, slips his arm around her, heedless of the heat and the pain and the inescapable reality of who she is, it admittedly stills her mind entirely for a moment. The flames seem to flicker and fade, and the heat radiating from her fades as she simply stares ahead in shock.]
...you can help me by-
[And that sudden contrarian snappishness is accompanied by another wave of heat and pain, and the next word is lost in a strangled noise of pain as she suddenly grabs him back- not so much to reciprocate the contact as simply to grab something while the pain washes through her.
[Heat and pain he can deal with. Flame he can master, draw into him and away from her, away from harm.]
I know it hurts. I know you're afraid, panicking. It's like you're coming apart at the seams, all the threads that...make you you fraying all at once. That you're becoming something else, something you aren't.
But it's like the Avatar State...if it comes from us, it is a part of us, like our bending. We can control it. You can do this, Azula. I believe in you.
[That alone might be difficult enough for her to accept. But he has to move on, there's no more time to explain.]
As best you can, start to breathe deeply. Breathe in as much as you possibly can, then all the way out, empty your lungs until you feel like there's nothing else. Then breathe in again. Listen to my voice, I'll be your rhythm....
[And he starts to do the same himself, the simple commands to breathe in, and breathe out coming with a slow, steady beat.]
[She tries to keep herself centered enough to listen, to follow what he's saying. And then he suggests... breathing exercises? Seriously? She's clinging by a thread and he wants her to do breathing drills like a first-year firebending student-
Her train of thought is interrupted by another surge of pain. Rrrgh. Breathing exercises it is. The benefit is, she's done them before, though not quite the same way. She starts to alter her breathing to match his, though it's obviously forced and ragged, occasionally interrupted by another wave of discomfort.]
Firebenders do this... to draw in power. Are you sure this is... w-wise?
You have to unlearn what you've learned. You're going to be more than just a firebender before today is done. You need to use it for calm - it will bring your heartbeat down, let you focus.
You're going to need to open your mind. I'm going to help, I promise - but you have to trust me. Close your eyes, keep breathing - and think back. I want you to find a moment when your world, your life, was calm.
[He has to hope there were, at least, a few moments. Some quiet evening, perhaps, as a child. A night on a beach, the waves lapping.]
Somewhere without war. Without pain. Without a battle to be fought. Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...breathe out...
[He shifts position as he says this last, centering his own energies - for what must be done next is not to be done lightly.]
[Her instinctive response, every part of her mind screaming in unison to reject what he's saying. It's all she can do to keep control of her mind, of her thoughts. She's trying to wrestle them into submission through discipline and force of will. Relaxing means releasing that control, letting go, would mean she-
Well. At least if anybody could stop her, it would be him.]
... Just be ready if I turn.
[She closes her eyes, continues to follow his breathing, and tries to think.
Her first thought is of Shealtiel- there were countless tiny moments together since the moment they met where the stress seemed to dull and fade, but it was always there, this dim clenching in her gut in reaction to the tiniest things, restrained and suppressed through force of will. The moments with Nanashi, before he left, were the same- always this faint current of rage and fear, so slight she hadn't even known what it was at the time.
...she's never thought about this before. It's always seemed a pointless distraction. But she really can't seem to remember the last time she-
She stares at her brother across the beach, his stance defensive, ready. For a moment there's stillness, and then they both spring into action at once. His attack is faster, but lower, and she leaps over it, lands behind him, and tosses out her handful of streamers at his back. Zuko collapses dramatically to the sand with a cry- "No, curse you, foul dragon!" They both laugh.
The anger and terror and tension do seem to diminish a little, though the feeling that replaces them isn't... relaxation, exactly, it's something lower, like an dull ache she can't quite explain. It's not pleasant. Actually she thinks she hates it. But it's not tension, it's not panic, so it will have to do. She focuses on the memory, on the breathing, and tries to be back there, where there's no threat, no fight, no Noctaere inside her fighting to come free.]
[It will take him a moment to summon up the energies for what has to come next. He moves, silently and gracefully, placing his hand on her forehead. He breathes in, carefully, and when his eyes open again, they aren't exactly his anymore - and it's as if he is lit from something within, a bluish-sort of white.]
[And from a place of peace, the energy of the Avatar flowing through him, he puts his thumb against her forehead and lets that energy flow.]
[If she is dealing with that storm within, this is the force marching back the other way - Energybending, the special hallmark of the Avatar. What it will feel like is entirely hers to know - it will be different for everyone else. But the energy that flows into her is like water washing away obstacles - clearing her chi, straightening the lines of flow of all their gnarls and turns.]
[A moment of perfect, complete clarity. For him, it comes with peace. For her...for her they will have to see.]
[Her first impulse is reflexive fear and anger- that he's going to strip her bending from her anyway. Her immediate thought, once actual thought kicks in, is that he tricked her- and then that he didn't need to trick her. And then that she wouldn't trust herself, in his place. After the initial moment of conflict and resistance, however, there's a wash of relief.
At least he's finally doing what she asked.
She's already trying to stop fighting to control herself and instead focusing on the more open memory, on releasing the tension and fear and anger, so it's not as difficult as she expects to submit to Aang's energy bending, to let go of the urge to fight him or resist.]
[Only it doesn't feel like she expected, like something being stolen from her, like the power that had been such a huge part of her being since she was a small child being stripped from her body and spirit. She had imagined it would feel painful, empty, like loss, like losing an eye or a limb.
But instead, all that seems to clear away is the turmoil. The seizing terror in her muscles. The hideous clench of rage and frustration in her gut. The tension in her whole being, even now, to regain control of herself, of her power, of her energy. It all feels like it simply fades from her.
The blue light flickers away from her eyes, leaving them their usual amber-gold once again. The heat drains from her skin, leaving her pale and shaky but no longer radiating flame. The smoldering flicker of flame washing out from her body fades and stops. Her skin is cold, not just for a firebender but in general.
And for a moment, it's still. Completely still, like she's too emotionally drained to feel anything at all.
It worked. Whatever he did- whether it took her bending or not- it worked. The smoldering nostilium inside her was gone.]
[Her entire body sags in relief first, like she's just had unbearable weight taken from her shoulders.
She opens her mouth to speak, but she's so suddenly weightless inside that it's difficult to figure out what to even think, much less to say.]
Th... thank you...
[It's a start. Well, it's not really a start, is it, considering everything that came before, everything that-
He rises to the air before her, consumed with tapping into the Avatar State, too overwhelmed with the power surging through him to even consider the potential threats, just like everybody else in the room. All too easy. He's even got his back to her. It's the matter of mere moments to gather her lightning and strike him down, and the overwhelming aura of his energy goes dark in an instant. He plummets like a rock. Another enemy, another victory. For her, for Father, for the Fire Nation...
... The memory comes unbidden into her mind. She takes a shuddering breath, tries to put it out of her mind, but somehow the defensive reflex that would allow her to smother it isn't there, purged with all the rage and pain and fear, and all that's left is the stark reality of the memory.]
I-
[She tries again, but it sticks in her throat. She can't talk. She can barely even breathe from the sudden crush of guilt, of shame.]
[She tries to focus on the memory of Ember Island again, but it doesn't help- it's like the memory itself is raw, like she's experiencing it again for the first time, and all it manages to accomplish is a desperate pang of loneliness, and another fresh wave of guilt. Zuko. How many times had she tried to- and he'd still- he'd always- she had no right to want him to be there for her, but he'd done it anyway. He probably would now, if he'd been there, if he'd known-
The breathing becomes more erratic. She tries to think of something else, something that doesn't destabilize her so much, but instead all that comes to mind is more people she wishes could be there now. Nanashi. Shealtiel. Spirits, Shealtiel. The memories bring with them another flood, pangs of loneliness, of regret, of things she had refused to admit to them- to herself. Things she'd done to them that she'd known they would never forgive her for, only they had.
The plain face of the peasant woman looks up into her eyes, not afraid or resentful of the insane girl trying to kill her, but mournful, overwhelmed with pity- no, not pity, but sympathy, she realizes, sympathy and regret. "If what you say is true," she says, "If I am your mother, I'm sorry I didn't love you enough."
She tries- desperately- to stop it from happening, at least from happening in front of him, but she can't. She can't stop the sudden break in her breathing, can't suppress the sudden sob that forces its way through clenched teeth, can't stop the tears that suddenly flood her eyes as she sinks to her knees and starts crying.]
[He can only guess at what is going through her head right now. Once she had been...well, a bogeyman, really. A force to be feared, not really a person, not fully. A force of trauma and death - eclipsed only by the sheer weight on his emotions that had come of the responsibility of the Avatar.]
[He would, forever, remember the moment the lightning struck him.]
[But the world didn't stop there, memory didn't mean the moment was crystal. Time, spirits he knew this so well, always marched on. For better, and for worse. In many ways he himself was a man out of time. A memory of what was in what is - but nothing stood still.]
[His opinion of Azula hadn't, certainly. It took time, and it wasn't easy, but knowledge and witnessing told him she was...not the force that he feared. That she had been shaped and honed and her teeth sharpened against the world and it wasn't fair. These days, while he would despise Ozai for what he was as long as he drew breath - what he had done to his children was something all the more loathsome.]
[Out of that, comes sympathy. Understanding. Care. And as the nightmare recedes around them, as the light fades, he kneels in front of her again.]
[And gently folds her into a hug.]
It's going to be alright. You're going to be ok, Azula.
[She's too enmeshed in the sudden uncontrollable breakdown to notice his reaction at first, too lost in the shame, the remorse, the mortification of utterly losing control, the uncontrollable tide of grief for things she'd been trying to ignore for years.
So when she suddenly feels his arms around her, it's... shocking, to say the least. So much so that it seems to shock her abruptly from her weeping.
Why would he- why would- he, of all people- after everything-
The pause only lasts a moment before a fresh stab of shame pulls another sob from her. The humiliation and shame at the utter loss of control and weakness that would normally compel her to control herself now only seem to make it worse, and without thinking she slips her arms around him, clutching him closer, as if he were all that still held her upright.]
I'm sorry...
[She sounds like a bawling child. She feels like one. It only makes her feel worse, feel even more like she's inflicting this pathetic spectacle on him.]
I- I c-can't- I'm s-sorry...
[It sounds even more feeble and shaky the second time, and she gives up on words after that.]
[It takes her a long time to pull herself together. Too long. It's like whatever he did broke a dam and now she can't seem to repair it, and the tears don't subside until she's too emotionally drained to manage any more.
Finally, she lets go of him and slumps back to the ground, hissing a shuddering breath and mopping at her eyes, though she's got no hope of regaining any lost dignity in the process.]
... What-
[No. No. Too shaky, too feeble, too obviously repulsive with the aftermath of her uncontrolled episode, she has a limit. She draws another breath to focus herself and clears her throat before she tries again.]
What did you do to me?
[She didn't know what losing her bending would feel like, but she hadn't expected that. There was no reason for it to still the Nostilium entirely, no cause for that revolting breakdown not to result in her turning, and now she's beginning to suspect that maybe- just maybe- the sentimental fool had actually told her the truth and done something else entirely.]
[He sits down opposite her, cross-legged, wishing he had at least some tissues on hand to offer her. Instead, he just waits until she speaks again, then nods with a sigh.]
I cleared your chi. It's...it's called energybending, it's the opposite of taking away someone's bending, in a way. It's a way of letting your energy flow, free of all obstruction, all the gnarls and the like we throw in the way. I think it's a...truth, in a way. A truth of the Avatar. And now, for you.
[She wipes impatiently at her eyes with her sleeves- her tunic is ruined anyway, torn up in whatever conflict she was involved in and burned by both her fire and that of her opponent.]
Why would the truth make me sob incoherently all over you?
[... The nasty comment aside, she holds up a hand in her lap and calls a mote of flame. It's... shaky, the normal deep blue replaced by a flickering bluish-orange, as if even her fire was shaken by what she'd been through.
She stares at it for a few moments, then clenches her fist closed again and the fire goes out.]
Because it's not my truth I'm getting to show you.
[He folded himself into his usual meditative pose, watching her.]
And only you can tell yourself the why, Azula. Though I have some guesses. All of which you'd call me a sentimental idiot for, so I'm not gonna say 'em.
[... She wants to object to that, but she really has no grounds to do it.
She stares into her lap, awkwardly running her hand over her opposite arm. An old, well-worn scar that resembles some sort of messy bite mark is visible in the crook of her elbow, the discoloration showing through her torn sleeve.]
And if I was... unusually inclined to entertain sentimental idiocy, what might you guess?
That you want more than the life you've been given.
[He chuckles a bit.]
Which is something everybody wants. But I think...I think you went to something very deep, very buried. And that's what beat back the darkness. When you turned deep inside, what did you see?
I think you know that, too. I think that everything I've seen is...well, a sister who wants the family, the warmth and love of her brother. This doesn't exactly change my mind.
[He chuckles.]
Goopy, I know. But great things to want. In a way, I envy you. I've never had a sibling.
How do you know what you're not capable of? Have you lived a long life, seen all that there is to see? Done all that you can do?
And Zuko has a big heart. I'm sure there's room.
[All of it said with absolute certainty. Not the wisdom of the Avatar - but rather that of the airbenders, in a way. They who meditated, who thought, rather than governed.]
[He turns her head to face him, then moves it to her shoulder, so she can see his sincerity.]
Maybe it's time you start to think what Azula would want, rather than what Ozai would want. You've never gotten to be yourself, I see that now. But your life can start, right now. Right here.
You don't know what you're capable of. You've never given yourself the chance to try.
The unknown can be scary, believe me I know that. But if anybody can rise to this challenge...
Your dream is not in vain... (Locked to Unnamed/@zomboii) cw: Gross corpses and stuff
[This... is not the village. Not at all. If anything, this looks more like the city where she'd been trapped two years earlier, if something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. The houses and lots are bigger, but the skyscrapers in the distance are about the same, and the superficial distinctions are far less meaningful than the obvious neglect and disrepair that's consumed everything.
And something about this seems terribly familiar.
There's a sudden darkening of her mood. This place is dangerous. This place could kill her if she wasn't careful. She remembers that every 'person' here was anything but- mindless corpses that would only see her as a source of fresh meat. All but one, at least- she tries not to think about that.
She recalls also that last time she was here, she lacked her firebending. The rules of the dream. Of course, this might not be a dream, per se.
She brings up her hand and conjures a blue flame to her palm. Interesting. But useful. She recalls that the creatures were vulnerable to fire, and might be averse to it with a minimum of threat to her. The one, at least, had been terrified of it- Focus, Azula.
Her thoughts are interrupted by a low, rumbling groan near her, one that raises to something with unnatural and piercing pitch and intensity. She turns to see a creature shambling toward her, and she hears the shuffling and groaning around her: Every other corpse in the area moving toward the sound, toward the promise of food.
She thrusts the flame toward the creature, but it simply stumbles through the flame, not even noticing that it's ignited. With all of its fuel dampened with muck and the fluids of decay, the fire does little before it's smothered.
Ah.
New plan, then. She swipes out with a cutting arc of flame, and the creature's leg drops from its body. It tumbles to the ground. Then she calls the flame again- both to attack any more creatures that surprise her and to light her way- and sprints away from the fallen creature, trusting its immobilized noises to draw predators away from her. She doesn't stop running until she's well out of sight of the now-gathering throng. Fortunately, none of the creatures seem to notice her- the noises the immobilized corpse was making attracted far more attention from the mindless creatures.
She rounds a corner, hoping that her path has been cleared. And instead, she sees one of the creatures. One that doesn't even seem to notice the commotion that drew all of its scattered fellows toward their fallen compatriot. One that hasn't noticed her presence yet, either.
One that she recognizes.]
...Nanashi?
[Hastily, she clenches her fist to douse the flame, hopefully before he sees it. She knows he can't hear her. Should she sign to him? Would he even recognize her? Would he remember sign language?
... had he been alone in this awful world for over a year?
The thought stabs at her, and she tries to ignore it, but she can't help but stare at him all the same.]
[ There is indeed one that doesn't seem to notice the calls the way the others do. One corpse that's in much better shape than the rest: his hair looks...washed? And brushed. His clothes are still threadbare in some places but the shoes on his feet look new(ish). He's wearing a jacket that matches the weather. There's dirt on his hands, but not on his face--he's remarkably well-kept compared to his peers.
Little hold-overs from his time spent dreaming of a wonderful, fantastic world where people noticed him and every day was some new grand adventure.
Nanashi might not notice the noises his fellow undead makes, but that's because he's a little preoccupied with what looks like the remains of a book. At least--he was until he catches movement out of the corner of his eye and looks up. What he expects to see is that one of the undead has wandered into the room.
What he does not expect is someone that shouldn't be here. Someone he knows. Someone-- ]
--Auh!?
[ --he's wanted to see more than anything else since coming back home. Sorry book, you're getting dropped. Nanashi scrambles to his feet, wanting to rush over to her but caught because this...is impossible. Right?
[For a moment, she tempers her expectations. People forget their time when they go home, and only sometimes remember it when they come back. Right?
Except- wait. He still looks so much like Nanashi. He looks... clean. Well-kempt. And he's... reading? He only learned to read in Reverein. He's still him. And he still visibly stares in shock when he sees her. He recognizes her. Right? He-
She swallows, hastily tries to remember her sign language. Oh, individual letters were always the hardest, and he'd never picked a sign name-
'N-A-N-A-S-H-I'
It's the only thing she can think to do, to tell him she remembers- to make sure he remembers.]
The signs come out so fast and haphazard it's almost impossible to make them out, because the second he's done making them he's bolting over to her as...fast as he's ever able to run. Which isn't at all--in fact, he only makes it two steps before he trips over himself, snaps his head up and makes a started auuhh, uouhh! and hurries back to his feet.
Em,barrassment?? There's no time for embarrassment, blue flame is here and there's excitement and a black-brown nosebleed all over his face. ]
[She immediately surges forward to try to help him as he falls over, and it's not until he hastily scrambles back to his feet on stiff and sluggish limbs that she remembers that he can't feel pain.
She feels a bit silly.
Though she's admittedly somewhat distracted by the blood that erupts from his nose. He can still bleed? Fascinating.-]
[And the thought is interrupted by him launching himself at her again, those clumsy arms flying around her in an earnest hug, his face smearing blood into her neck.
[She opts, instead, to just accept the inevitable mess- she's done grosser things on his behalf, after all, she has particularly repulsive memories of raw chicken livers- and instead allows herself to slip her arms around him.
She knew she'd missed him, but it still surprised her how nice it felt.]
[ He's like this and will always be like this. His joy in seeing Azula outweighs all the lessons Shigeru took great pains to teach him on personal cleanliness--but also he doesn't feel pain, so he hasn't even realized he's making a mess of her. The excited, nonsensical sounds he makes don't cease either.
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The impossible will take a little while (Locked to Shealtiel/@lemoncandy) (Backdated to the 21st)
She doesn't even mind, except that she knows he's not going to like what she has to say. He's going to get all worried, going to try to stop her, or worse, try to help her-
Well. she'll worry about that when it comes.
This time, she's secured a dessert more familiar and palatable to her- a box of fruit mochi and tea cakes, one of the relatively few foods that resemble those from home- but she's still made sure to keep some lemon ones in there for him.
She hesitates, but knocks on his door.]
We've often rewound the clock (Locked to Aang/@all_the_aangles)
Well, she feels like many things.
She struggles to keep control as she flies to find him, the Noctaere phoenix form dissolving around her as she struggles to keep it restrained. She comes for a landing, but the flames vanish before she can land properly, and she winds up crashing roughly into the foliage. It begins to erupt into flames around her, licks of blue fire still erupting from around her skin, heat radiating from her body.
Her eyes are no longer amber-gold, instead glowing a vivid, unnatural blue as she fixes him with her intense stare.]
Av-
[No.]
Aang. I need your help.
[She tries to sound collected, calm, but it's a losing battle. Panicked, gritting her teeth in pain, eyes wild, voice uneven. The blue fire sputters erratically around her with each breath.]
Please.
no subject
[Caution is called for. And a semblance of normalcy, if he can manage it.]
[But it turns out that Azula can always surprise him. Not just with her arrival. Not just with the state of her, but with pleading. He rushes from his cabin, running to her side.]
Azula - what happened?!
no subject
I-
[Another flare of blue fire rushes over her body, and she hisses in pain.]
T-tried to help. He w-went Noctaere. Couldn't- couldn't stop him. Not without-
[...He doesn't know who you mean, you're babbling, this isn't helpful, just-
She winces at another flare, her eyes glowing more brightly before she screws them closed, hissing a few ragged breaths to force herself to speak steadily.]
I need you to... take my bending. Before I... turn again.
no subject
[And then...and then she asks that of him, and he reeled back, stumbling backwards, hands scrabbling at the grass.]
You want me to what?!
[Azula can always surprise him. This time, with the resurrection of a nightmare.]
no subject
[There's a frustration that turns to rage, and it wells off of her in a wave of heat. The foliage around her begins to smolder and smoke again, sparks beginning to form in the dry twigs and leaves and threatening to ignite.
She takes another breath, tries to calm the swell of anger and frustration and terror.]
Last time I went Noctaere, I- [Another hiss of pained breath, but she grits her teeth and keeps talking.] I transformed into a phoenix. I- hurt people.
[She hates this. She knows it's necessary, knows it's the only way, but she hates it nonetheless.]
It was my firebending that- that made me so- [This time, she can't quite restrain a grunt of struggle.] dangerous. You need to-
[She doesn't manage to finish the statement, as another wave of heat begins to ignite the smoldering leaves around her and she doubles over in pain.]
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[He moves back to her side, risking putting a hand out, onto her shoulder.]
Azula - I don't...I don't want to - don't make me do that, you can beat this, you can make it.
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She stares at him for a moment- horror and frustration warring with sheer bewilderment in her eyes- and then they're all cut off by another surge of pain.]
This isn't the time for your goody-goody sentimentality, you fool!
[Her fists clench so hard that her arms shake, teeth gritting, just to try and focus her, keep her grounded enough to talk.]
You haven't seen it- what I... was, what these... things are-
[Another wave of fire wafts out of her but is quickly quenched by the rain.]
... I can't h-hurt him again. You c-can't let me hurt him again.
Oddly as I typed 'instincts', the Red Green episode did a word game...for 'Instincts'.
[He knows what it looks like. He's seen it. He's seen his own hands raise up, and destroy an entire fleet. He knows, Azula.]
[He knows. And the look in his eyes will communicate that clearly - he has seen so much, and knows what he is capable of, every day. But she's in pain, and this is a crisis, and he can't...he doesn't...and it would be...simple, wouldn't it? A solution that would make her...harmless.]
[It's a desperately seductive thought. To bury one nightmare with another. So quick, so easy. So wrong.]
[He closes his eyes, instincts warring with each other. And finally, one of them wins. He pulls her closer, actually giving her something akin to a hug, a moment of companionship for what has to come next.]
Azula. I need to you to listen to me. And believe me, like you never have before. This is a part of you, so you can control it. I can help you.
What a mood whiplash
She remembers, then, what the reflection of him had been like. The Avatar State, completely uncontrolled, a force of nature that he'd had to protect her from.
...maybe he did understand. All the more reason that he should take this seriously. If even he was capable of losing control like that, then why wouldn't he just-
...just...
What?
When he pulls her closer, slips his arm around her, heedless of the heat and the pain and the inescapable reality of who she is, it admittedly stills her mind entirely for a moment. The flames seem to flicker and fade, and the heat radiating from her fades as she simply stares ahead in shock.]
...you can help me by-
[And that sudden contrarian snappishness is accompanied by another wave of heat and pain, and the next word is lost in a strangled noise of pain as she suddenly grabs him back- not so much to reciprocate the contact as simply to grab something while the pain washes through her.
It passes after a moment.]
... Fine. We- we can try.
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I know it hurts. I know you're afraid, panicking. It's like you're coming apart at the seams, all the threads that...make you you fraying all at once. That you're becoming something else, something you aren't.
But it's like the Avatar State...if it comes from us, it is a part of us, like our bending. We can control it. You can do this, Azula. I believe in you.
[That alone might be difficult enough for her to accept. But he has to move on, there's no more time to explain.]
As best you can, start to breathe deeply. Breathe in as much as you possibly can, then all the way out, empty your lungs until you feel like there's nothing else. Then breathe in again. Listen to my voice, I'll be your rhythm....
[And he starts to do the same himself, the simple commands to breathe in, and breathe out coming with a slow, steady beat.]
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Her train of thought is interrupted by another surge of pain. Rrrgh. Breathing exercises it is. The benefit is, she's done them before, though not quite the same way. She starts to alter her breathing to match his, though it's obviously forced and ragged, occasionally interrupted by another wave of discomfort.]
Firebenders do this... to draw in power. Are you sure this is... w-wise?
Borrowing the obvious line...
You're going to need to open your mind. I'm going to help, I promise - but you have to trust me. Close your eyes, keep breathing - and think back. I want you to find a moment when your world, your life, was calm.
[He has to hope there were, at least, a few moments. Some quiet evening, perhaps, as a child. A night on a beach, the waves lapping.]
Somewhere without war. Without pain. Without a battle to be fought. Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...breathe out...
[He shifts position as he says this last, centering his own energies - for what must be done next is not to be done lightly.]
BRINGING THIS BACK.
Well. At least if anybody could stop her, it would be him.]
... Just be ready if I turn.
[She closes her eyes, continues to follow his breathing, and tries to think.
Her first thought is of Shealtiel- there were countless tiny moments together since the moment they met where the stress seemed to dull and fade, but it was always there, this dim clenching in her gut in reaction to the tiniest things, restrained and suppressed through force of will. The moments with Nanashi, before he left, were the same- always this faint current of rage and fear, so slight she hadn't even known what it was at the time.
...she's never thought about this before. It's always seemed a pointless distraction. But she really can't seem to remember the last time she-
She stares at her brother across the beach, his stance defensive, ready. For a moment there's stillness, and then they both spring into action at once. His attack is faster, but lower, and she leaps over it, lands behind him, and tosses out her handful of streamers at his back. Zuko collapses dramatically to the sand with a cry- "No, curse you, foul dragon!" They both laugh.
The anger and terror and tension do seem to diminish a little, though the feeling that replaces them isn't... relaxation, exactly, it's something lower, like an dull ache she can't quite explain. It's not pleasant. Actually she thinks she hates it. But it's not tension, it's not panic, so it will have to do. She focuses on the memory, on the breathing, and tries to be back there, where there's no threat, no fight, no Noctaere inside her fighting to come free.]
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[And from a place of peace, the energy of the Avatar flowing through him, he puts his thumb against her forehead and lets that energy flow.]
[If she is dealing with that storm within, this is the force marching back the other way - Energybending, the special hallmark of the Avatar. What it will feel like is entirely hers to know - it will be different for everyone else. But the energy that flows into her is like water washing away obstacles - clearing her chi, straightening the lines of flow of all their gnarls and turns.]
[A moment of perfect, complete clarity. For him, it comes with peace. For her...for her they will have to see.]
1/4 SORRY ABOUT THIS IT'S A LONG ONE
At least he's finally doing what she asked.
She's already trying to stop fighting to control herself and instead focusing on the more open memory, on releasing the tension and fear and anger, so it's not as difficult as she expects to submit to Aang's energy bending, to let go of the urge to fight him or resist.]
2/4
But instead, all that seems to clear away is the turmoil. The seizing terror in her muscles. The hideous clench of rage and frustration in her gut. The tension in her whole being, even now, to regain control of herself, of her power, of her energy. It all feels like it simply fades from her.
The blue light flickers away from her eyes, leaving them their usual amber-gold once again. The heat drains from her skin, leaving her pale and shaky but no longer radiating flame. The smoldering flicker of flame washing out from her body fades and stops. Her skin is cold, not just for a firebender but in general.
And for a moment, it's still. Completely still, like she's too emotionally drained to feel anything at all.
It worked. Whatever he did- whether it took her bending or not- it worked. The smoldering nostilium inside her was gone.]
3/4
She opens her mouth to speak, but she's so suddenly weightless inside that it's difficult to figure out what to even think, much less to say.]
Th... thank you...
[It's a start. Well, it's not really a start, is it, considering everything that came before, everything that-
He rises to the air before her, consumed with tapping into the Avatar State, too overwhelmed with the power surging through him to even consider the potential threats, just like everybody else in the room. All too easy. He's even got his back to her. It's the matter of mere moments to gather her lightning and strike him down, and the overwhelming aura of his energy goes dark in an instant. He plummets like a rock. Another enemy, another victory. For her, for Father, for the Fire Nation...
... The memory comes unbidden into her mind. She takes a shuddering breath, tries to put it out of her mind, but somehow the defensive reflex that would allow her to smother it isn't there, purged with all the rage and pain and fear, and all that's left is the stark reality of the memory.]
I-
[She tries again, but it sticks in her throat. She can't talk. She can barely even breathe from the sudden crush of guilt, of shame.]
4/4
The breathing becomes more erratic. She tries to think of something else, something that doesn't destabilize her so much, but instead all that comes to mind is more people she wishes could be there now. Nanashi. Shealtiel. Spirits, Shealtiel. The memories bring with them another flood, pangs of loneliness, of regret, of things she had refused to admit to them- to herself. Things she'd done to them that she'd known they would never forgive her for, only they had.
The plain face of the peasant woman looks up into her eyes, not afraid or resentful of the insane girl trying to kill her, but mournful, overwhelmed with pity- no, not pity, but sympathy, she realizes, sympathy and regret. "If what you say is true," she says, "If I am your mother, I'm sorry I didn't love you enough."
She tries- desperately- to stop it from happening, at least from happening in front of him, but she can't. She can't stop the sudden break in her breathing, can't suppress the sudden sob that forces its way through clenched teeth, can't stop the tears that suddenly flood her eyes as she sinks to her knees and starts crying.]
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[He would, forever, remember the moment the lightning struck him.]
[But the world didn't stop there, memory didn't mean the moment was crystal. Time, spirits he knew this so well, always marched on. For better, and for worse. In many ways he himself was a man out of time. A memory of what was in what is - but nothing stood still.]
[His opinion of Azula hadn't, certainly. It took time, and it wasn't easy, but knowledge and witnessing told him she was...not the force that he feared. That she had been shaped and honed and her teeth sharpened against the world and it wasn't fair. These days, while he would despise Ozai for what he was as long as he drew breath - what he had done to his children was something all the more loathsome.]
[Out of that, comes sympathy. Understanding. Care. And as the nightmare recedes around them, as the light fades, he kneels in front of her again.]
[And gently folds her into a hug.]
It's going to be alright. You're going to be ok, Azula.
WHOO LAD SHE IS GETTING SOME STUFF OUT
So when she suddenly feels his arms around her, it's... shocking, to say the least. So much so that it seems to shock her abruptly from her weeping.
Why would he- why would- he, of all people- after everything-
The pause only lasts a moment before a fresh stab of shame pulls another sob from her. The humiliation and shame at the utter loss of control and weakness that would normally compel her to control herself now only seem to make it worse, and without thinking she slips her arms around him, clutching him closer, as if he were all that still held her upright.]
I'm sorry...
[She sounds like a bawling child. She feels like one. It only makes her feel worse, feel even more like she's inflicting this pathetic spectacle on him.]
I- I c-can't- I'm s-sorry...
[It sounds even more feeble and shaky the second time, and she gives up on words after that.]
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It's alright, Azula. Let it out. Let it all out.
[He smiles, just a little. One of sympathy, and comfort.]
It's going to be fine, I promise.
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Finally, she lets go of him and slumps back to the ground, hissing a shuddering breath and mopping at her eyes, though she's got no hope of regaining any lost dignity in the process.]
... What-
[No. No. Too shaky, too feeble, too obviously repulsive with the aftermath of her uncontrolled episode, she has a limit. She draws another breath to focus herself and clears her throat before she tries again.]
What did you do to me?
[She didn't know what losing her bending would feel like, but she hadn't expected that. There was no reason for it to still the Nostilium entirely, no cause for that revolting breakdown not to result in her turning, and now she's beginning to suspect that maybe- just maybe- the sentimental fool had actually told her the truth and done something else entirely.]
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I cleared your chi. It's...it's called energybending, it's the opposite of taking away someone's bending, in a way. It's a way of letting your energy flow, free of all obstruction, all the gnarls and the like we throw in the way. I think it's a...truth, in a way. A truth of the Avatar. And now, for you.
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Why would the truth make me sob incoherently all over you?
[... The nasty comment aside, she holds up a hand in her lap and calls a mote of flame. It's... shaky, the normal deep blue replaced by a flickering bluish-orange, as if even her fire was shaken by what she'd been through.
She stares at it for a few moments, then clenches her fist closed again and the fire goes out.]
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[He folded himself into his usual meditative pose, watching her.]
And only you can tell yourself the why, Azula. Though I have some guesses. All of which you'd call me a sentimental idiot for, so I'm not gonna say 'em.
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She stares into her lap, awkwardly running her hand over her opposite arm. An old, well-worn scar that resembles some sort of messy bite mark is visible in the crook of her elbow, the discoloration showing through her torn sleeve.]
And if I was... unusually inclined to entertain sentimental idiocy, what might you guess?
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[He chuckles a bit.]
Which is something everybody wants. But I think...I think you went to something very deep, very buried. And that's what beat back the darkness. When you turned deep inside, what did you see?
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[... She shifts, uncomfortable, shoulders hunching slightly.]
It was just some trivial memory. Insignificant.
[... okay, no. No, she wants his input, wants an answer, she's going to have to-]
My brother and I. As children. Back before we-
[Her voice gets quiet suddenly- ashamed. It's an odd tone for her.]
Well, you know what we became.
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[He offers a gentle smile.]
I think you know that, too. I think that everything I've seen is...well, a sister who wants the family, the warmth and love of her brother. This doesn't exactly change my mind.
[He chuckles.]
Goopy, I know. But great things to want. In a way, I envy you. I've never had a sibling.
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Don't be ridiculous. You of all people know I'm not capable-
[She doesn't even get the word out before her voice quavers and fails her. Again, the infuriating weakness, the complete lack of control.
... Over that? Why would-
She huffs and tries again.]
... He's got another sibling already. You know that.
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How do you know what you're not capable of? Have you lived a long life, seen all that there is to see? Done all that you can do?
And Zuko has a big heart. I'm sure there's room.
[All of it said with absolute certainty. Not the wisdom of the Avatar - but rather that of the airbenders, in a way. They who meditated, who thought, rather than governed.]
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[She snaps it out suddenly, and the admission stuns even her a little- but she realizes it's true, and there's a stab of shame in it.]
I've tried to kill him more times than I can count. He has forgiven me every single time, the useless weakling.
[She folds her arms defensively, hunching down in a distinctly childish posture. It's distinctly unlike her.]
I'm not... like him. Like Mother. I never have been. I've always... always been like-
[Like Ozai, she can't bring herself to say. Like her father. She glances at the ground.]
... That's how I know what I'm not capable of.
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Maybe it's time you start to think what Azula would want, rather than what Ozai would want. You've never gotten to be yourself, I see that now. But your life can start, right now. Right here.
You don't know what you're capable of. You've never given yourself the chance to try.
The unknown can be scary, believe me I know that. But if anybody can rise to this challenge...
Your dream is not in vain... (Locked to Unnamed/@zomboii) cw: Gross corpses and stuff
And something about this seems terribly familiar.
There's a sudden darkening of her mood. This place is dangerous. This place could kill her if she wasn't careful. She remembers that every 'person' here was anything but- mindless corpses that would only see her as a source of fresh meat. All but one, at least- she tries not to think about that.
She recalls also that last time she was here, she lacked her firebending. The rules of the dream. Of course, this might not be a dream, per se.
She brings up her hand and conjures a blue flame to her palm. Interesting. But useful. She recalls that the creatures were vulnerable to fire, and might be averse to it with a minimum of threat to her. The one, at least, had been terrified of it- Focus, Azula.
Her thoughts are interrupted by a low, rumbling groan near her, one that raises to something with unnatural and piercing pitch and intensity. She turns to see a creature shambling toward her, and she hears the shuffling and groaning around her: Every other corpse in the area moving toward the sound, toward the promise of food.
She thrusts the flame toward the creature, but it simply stumbles through the flame, not even noticing that it's ignited. With all of its fuel dampened with muck and the fluids of decay, the fire does little before it's smothered.
Ah.
New plan, then. She swipes out with a cutting arc of flame, and the creature's leg drops from its body. It tumbles to the ground. Then she calls the flame again- both to attack any more creatures that surprise her and to light her way- and sprints away from the fallen creature, trusting its immobilized noises to draw predators away from her. She doesn't stop running until she's well out of sight of the now-gathering throng. Fortunately, none of the creatures seem to notice her- the noises the immobilized corpse was making attracted far more attention from the mindless creatures.
She rounds a corner, hoping that her path has been cleared. And instead, she sees one of the creatures. One that doesn't even seem to notice the commotion that drew all of its scattered fellows toward their fallen compatriot. One that hasn't noticed her presence yet, either.
One that she recognizes.]
...Nanashi?
[Hastily, she clenches her fist to douse the flame, hopefully before he sees it. She knows he can't hear her. Should she sign to him? Would he even recognize her? Would he remember sign language?
... had he been alone in this awful world for over a year?
The thought stabs at her, and she tries to ignore it, but she can't help but stare at him all the same.]
not me 800 years late or anything!!
Little hold-overs from his time spent dreaming of a wonderful, fantastic world where people noticed him and every day was some new grand adventure.
Nanashi might not notice the noises his fellow undead makes, but that's because he's a little preoccupied with what looks like the remains of a book. At least--he was until he catches movement out of the corner of his eye and looks up. What he expects to see is that one of the undead has wandered into the room.
What he does not expect is someone that shouldn't be here. Someone he knows. Someone-- ]
--Auh!?
[ --he's wanted to see more than anything else since coming back home. Sorry book, you're getting dropped. Nanashi scrambles to his feet, wanting to rush over to her but caught because this...is impossible. Right?
Right?? ]
YOU ARE GOOD FAM
Except- wait. He still looks so much like Nanashi. He looks... clean. Well-kempt. And he's... reading? He only learned to read in Reverein. He's still him. And he still visibly stares in shock when he sees her. He recognizes her. Right? He-
She swallows, hastily tries to remember her sign language. Oh, individual letters were always the hardest, and he'd never picked a sign name-
'N-A-N-A-S-H-I'
It's the only thing she can think to do, to tell him she remembers- to make sure he remembers.]
GRIPS YOU
The signs come out so fast and haphazard it's almost impossible to make them out, because the second he's done making them he's bolting over to her as...fast as he's ever able to run. Which isn't at all--in fact, he only makes it two steps before he trips over himself, snaps his head up and makes a started auuhh, uouhh! and hurries back to his feet.
Em,barrassment?? There's no time for embarrassment, blue flame is here and there's excitement
and a black-brown nosebleedall over his face. ]Auh...!
1/5
She feels a bit silly.
Though she's admittedly somewhat distracted by the blood that erupts from his nose. He can still bleed? Fascinating.-]
2/5
Is-
Is he- is he serious?]
3/5
And he's getting that disgusting coagulated blood all over her clothing. Ugh. Ugh, why was he like this?]
4/5
She finds that she... missed it. More than she'd realized. That utter lack of concern, of hesitation, of shame.
He was always like this. It was his most endearing quality. It was the way the ridiculous fool had so quickly-]
5/5
She knew she'd missed him, but it still surprised her how nice it felt.]
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She may...want to shush him. Just in case.
after a little more hugging. ]