lemoncandy | ic inbox (songerein)

[This is ridiculous. This is ridiculous and she feels ridiculous doing it.

She'd actually gotten a little cake. She didn't even like sweets, it just... seemed like the thing to do. Was there a thing to do?

Of course not, nobody celebrates this.

She ignores the thought, though it's not the first time it's crossed her mind since she got the stupid cake. This entire affair feels ridiculous, really. She climbs up to the door to his treehouse and lingers for a moment. What is the point of this?

For a moment, memories of the encounter with Ozai darken her thoughts. The argument with Shealtiel. The fight with Zuko. The moment Zuko had-

Rrgh. Enough, Azula. She ignores the intrusive thoughts and forces the neutral mask onto her face as she knocks on the door.]

( Much like the first time they had met, Shealtiel had been in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. Unlike the first time they met, however, there was no flooding, no vomiting (somehow), and a little more preening. His wings had to be taken care of, no matter how much he hated one side of them, and though he still had the urge to vomit over the sight of them, the lemon candy in his mouth was doing well to hold that back.

The knocks at the door surprises him, and he jumps a little, turning over his shoulder to look towards the front of the tree house. Someone... visiting? He's not sure that anyone knew where he lived, except for...

...

Hurriedly, he pulls on a shirt (backwards, but it's simple and black and how was he supposed to know?), and then hesitates only a moment before opening the door. The wait was a little longer than normal.

It is Azula, and he immediately feels nervous, or tense. She's been ignoring him pretty blatantly, after all... So why is she here? Past incidents make him assume the worst, but he has to push that aside. He talks around his candy. )

Hi. ( Ah. Oof. He'd wanted that to come out a little smoother. ) I mean, uh, what...'s up?

[She notes his dress and appearance. The slovenly attire and backward shirt are... well, she did surprise him at home, she supposes. The tension in his body as soon as he sees her...

Nothing. It's nothing.

For her part, she's dressed meticulously, but that's... sort of always been true of her, let's face it.]

It seemed appropriate to celebrate the occasion.

[She thrusts the cake forward into his hands, and he might pick up on a faint hint of the smell of lemon coming from it It's not large or unwieldy, but it is elaborately decorated, something summery and floral- in no world is Azula going to give anybody a cake that's less than perfect, especially when she can just get a baker to do the hard work for her. It almost feels normal, that distribution of labor.

She doesn't even particularly like cake. It's the principle of the thing.

After the cake is in his hands, she brushes past him and steps inside the door as if she'd been invited. Behind her, in front of the door, is a large box. She doesn't mention or draw attention to it.]

( The... occasion? As Shealtiel takes the cake, his mind is filled with confused and anxious racing thoughts. What occasion? Did he forget something? What is he forgetting??

Then the box comes into view as Azula brushes past him, and he does a few double takes between her and the box before moving to set the cake down in his kitchen. )

I, uh— thanks? ( He's so confused, but he's trying to catch up. His place isn't sloppy, necessarily, but there are empty bottles near the couch, various books scattered around and his bed is wrinkled from recent use. )

What's with the box out there? You're just going to walk in without even mentioning it? ( Without even... asking?! He can't even be mad when it's Azula, though, and he can't say he really understands that reaction in himself, either. )

Does one need to mention the obvious? It's a pretty big box.

[She sounds awfully proud of herself.]

I had faith.

[She eyes him for a moment, notes the bewilderment and confusion. Was he just surprised that she noticed? That she would even care? Or had he not realized the significance?

...somehow she can't muster up proper anger for either slight, even though on another day she might. No doubt he'll put it together when he sees what she brought him, after all. Instead, she simply heads over to his kitchen and starts rummaging for utensils and plates that she considers adequate.]

( It's not his birthday yet... Not even in the weird calendar of this place, from what he can tell. If it's Summer, it's getting closer, but?

Shealtiel quietly thinks through her words like it's a test, glancing back at her shuffling through his kitchen once more before he steps outside. Gently, a hand touches the top of the box and nudges it slightly, like he's trying to decide its weight. And after a moment, he pulls it inside and shuts the door properly.

From there, he'll see to quietly investigating the box before just finally trying to pry it open with his own hands. What is box!! )

[The box isn't enormous, but it's heavy for its size, and once he opens it, it's easy to see why.

Inside is a very familiar tool chest. Attached, a very familiar note.

TO PREVENT FUTURE INCOMPETENCE

By the time he's opened the box, she's returned with the plates, forks, and a knife. She... attempted to make matching happen, with limited success.]

I had a bauble to spare, and today seemed as good a day as any to spend it on.

[Clearly very, very pleased with herself. It doesn't even seem performative- and it's not, really. The doubts and the disdain for this entire affair feel as if they've faded, and she's bordering on sincerely happy.]

( Shealtiel takes the note between his thumb and forefinger, listening to Azula’s words as realization sets in. Has it really… been a whole year? Did that really matter to Azula?

Turning to look at her, it seemed so. Shealtiel’s expression softens slightly, though it’s mixed with a sort of humor that’s meant to be teasing. )

I’ll have you know I haven’t flooded this treehouse even once.

( It was the shitty bathroom!! He swears!! But he takes the toolkit along with the note and sets it out of the way for now, trying to ignore the complicated way his emotions mix.

There’s still always underlying fear. )

Has it been that long already?

[There's a moment where he looks at her, when she meets his eyes and there's a pang of... something. She's not sure. The smile fades and she glances down, setting out plates and slicing the cake. She'll stomach a piece for his sake, after all, it would be weird if she didn't.

When she answers his question, her voice is quieter and more serious.]

July twenty-first

[... After a moment, her expression shifts back to its more typical smug mask again.]

Not that this calendar ever made much sense to me, but I'm fairly certain it's been a year.

( July 21. He'll remember that now, now that he's all too aware of time and how long he can be stuck in a strange place. He takes a seat quietly, staring at the plates she's selected. He's not sure how she managed to find anything quite as close as she did (even if they're not exactly matching) but the effort is definitely noticed.

It's like a panic in the back of his mind, this kindness. Questions flood in, like why would she care, and what is there to celebrate about meeting a failure of an angel, but... There's a warmth, too. He's grateful. There are just a lot of complicated feelings here he's trying to unpack quietly. )

...I thought you were ignoring me.

( He finally brings that up, taking the fork with his left hand and turning it over a few times. )

You're not mad at me after all?

[She tries to just deny it and move on, tries to ignore the sudden reaction to that, but inevitably she loses the battle to the intrusive memories. The argument. The betrayal. The hurt. She'd been surprised by how much it hurt. And... something else, something she couldn't identify, something that prickled like thorns inside her whenever she thought about it- she'd made a mistake, of course, but it hardly mattered, she fixed the error, she always did, it wasn't as if-

After faltering for a fraction of a moment in her work, she quickly insists,]

Don't be ridiculous.

[And then serves a portion of cake and hands it to him. It was fine. It'd go back to how it was a few moments ago. Just-

She serves herself a piece- smaller, she's never cared for sweets and she lacks his fondness for lemon.]

( Huh. She was definitely mad at him before, there's no denying it, right? But now she's not? Shealtiel doesn't really get it, but there's something fond in his expression as he watches her. By now, his candy is finished and the stick is set aside so he can focus on this yummy cake, instead! He absolutely notices her piece is smaller.

There's a lot lining up here to indicate... she likes him? In some way? They are friends? He's gone back and forth with himself on whether or not he should be allowing himself to think that way.

He sticks his fork into the cake, scooping up a piece. )

I never took you as the type to remember dates. Happy... friendiversary? ( He says it in the same breath as a little laugh, and shoves his fork into his mouth before she can react to that. It helps him feel like he doesn't have to face his cheesy line immediately, too. )

Most people are surprised by the things I remember.

[There. Safe. A boast about her capabilities. And a distraction from that.. unabashed happiness. Something about it sends a stab of panic through her gut. She ignores it, instead gingerly taking a bite of her own cake.

-"I hope... we can get along despite this."

...Sweet. Too sweet. The lemon taste was supposed to be subtle, the bakery had insisted it would be, but the sweetness makes it overpowering- at least to her.

- Her hand lashes out, roughly grasping the front of his shirt with a shaking hand, glaring up at him through tears.
- "But if you're saying I don't owe you anything, then it sounds like we're friends, doesn't it?"
- She doesn't remember making the decision to gently lean against him, pressing her side against his as she cries, but it happens all the same.

Then again, he'd liked the popcorn when they first arrived, and she thought that was awful.

- "Thanks for taking me here, Azula."

Rrgh. She used to have such perfect control of her mind. Of her emotions. She used to be free of such ridiculous weaknesses.

- She's rambling, delirious in her madness, snapping at a phantom only she can see, "He abandoned me!" She sees the confusion and hurt on his face as soon as she says it. Stupid. Clumsy. A foolish lapse.
- "You picked the wrong human to prey on."

She ignores the memories, the vivid images and sounds in her mind, almost as intrusive as the full-blown hallucinations-

- The beast's jaws clamp shut inches from her, and she feels rather than hears the word, enraged, filled with hate and accusation: Monster

Shut up. She takes another bite. The flavor doesn't improve with the second taste.

-"Do you not trust me?"

Hopefully he was enjoying it at least. She eyes his expression to try and figure it out for herself.

-She eyes the note with narrowed eyes, venomous feelings of suspicion and frustrated disappointment rising in her chest. "If you have solutions," she says, voice filled with quiet irritation, " rather than simply objections, you can join me and discuss them."

The next time the fork hits the plate just a little too hard, louder than she expected. A cursory glance at least confirms that nothing was damaged, but... ]

Do you like it? You always enjoyed those lemon... things, so it seemed suitable.

Yah! 'S greahff!

( His mouth is full of cake as he says it, and he's nearly entirely done with his first piece by the time she asks. He clearly likes it. Lemon is his favorite, it's helping with his nausea from earlier even further, and he's fairly pleased about being remembered in any capacity. If he ignores the scary feelings that come with it, then...

It kind of feels nice!

Swallowing his mouthful and remembering his company is someone he usually tries to at least appear presentable around, he sets his fork down to slow himself. )

Lemon is great with helping nausea ease up, and I love the sour sweet taste of it. It... doesn't seem like you like it, though?

( The fork slam and her own hardly touched cake tells him this much. He feels a little bad for that. )

I would have liked anything you got for me, you know.

[Ugh, of course he noticed. Of course she was ruining this. Of course this was the one thing she couldn't-

Enough, Azula.]

You know me, there's very little here that meets my standards.

[There. It's fine. Play it off as a joke. At least he was enjoying it, anyway. It's fine. She can-]

... you were right.

[It slips out quietly, and she immediately regrets it. Not helpful. Not good. A stab of panic shoots through her, and she tries to think of some way to cover for it, but nothing comes to her mind.]

( That... must be a sentence he's never heard before in his life. No, he's sure of it. No matter how right he's been, who has ever told him this? He pauses, fork hanging stupidly from his mouth for a moment before he pulls it out. )

...Huh?

( Right... about what? )

[She hisses a deep breath. She should just... brush past it. Shouldn't have brought it up. Should choke down some more of this horrible cake. She should-]

...about Father.

[She's not sure why, not sure what's compelling her to keep saying it even though it feels like swallowing molten lead, but she can't seem to stop herself. She averts her gaze, setting her plate of barely-touched cake aside.]

You were right.

( ... He knows how rare it is for Azula to admit anyone else is right, so for a moment he pauses, trying to gather his thoughts. He doesn't want to carelessly snap out words like he usually does— what if she takes it wrong and ignores him again? )

...I doubt it's easy to stand up to someone who you're supposed to look up to for guidance. It's okay.

[... Easy. The very idea that 'easy' was relevant rubs her wrong. It feels like an insult.]

It wasn't really him.

[The admission brings back a flood of relevant memories. The day he left for the Earth kingdom. Their brief conversation in the Capital prison. The nightmare about losing her bending.

Seeing him on the battlefield outside Reverein. The confrontation with Zuko. The choice she'd made. The way he had-]

He was an agent of the Story Eater. I should have known-

[You knew, she thinks bitterly. You knew what he was. Liar. Monster. She lets out a sigh, and her normally composed posture seems to sag as her gaze falls.]

Anyway. I'm... sorry.

( His expression softens further, and he even smiles faintly, pointing his empty fork in her direction. )

...Thanks, Azula. I thought you were avoiding me all this time because you were mad.

( But was it actually because she was struggling to say sorry...? Maybe? )

But that's in the past now, right? It turned out fine.

I stopped him before he damaged anything of value.

[... Anything except Zuko. Not that she valued- she knows what she meant. Rrgh. Stop being ridiculous, Azula.

Her vision was suddenly blurring, and she couldn't place why. Inadequate sleep, maybe. That must be it.

She turns back up toward Shealtiel, opening her mouth as if to say something else, but... when she sees his expression, she completely forgets it. A stab of something unpleasant shoots through her. Her arms pull defensively around her, and she winds up closing her mouth and staring at the cake instead.]

( Shealtiel isn't sure what he's picking up on, but he knows there's something off. He keeps his smile, though it does naturally fade a little, and after another bite of cake he leans on the table a bit. )

Are you... okay?

( It feels like a weird question in the middle of all this, so he tries to clarify a little further. )

I mean, you seem really on edge. ( Despite bringing a cake... her body language and everything. )

[Rrgh, she's ruining this. Another stab of panic goes through her, and her fingers clench slightly against her sleeves before she snaps-]

I'm fine.

[....no. No. Making it worse. Of course you're making it worse. All you ever do is- Stop it, stop it, shut up-

She wrenches her hands back down into her lap, trying to relax, or at least to look relaxed-]

It was... uncharacteristically sloppy of me. I should be better. That's all.

[It wasn't even a lie, really. Except in the ways that matter. She tries to ignore the thought.]

( It's not that he doesn't understand her thoughts. Maybe it's that he understands too well. He's worried about assuming too much, about not fully understanding Azula even if he feels like he does. He hates when people assume they get him when they couldn't possibly, so the last thing he wants to do is the same...

But. They're friends. He's thinking harder for that reason. )

At least you're uncharacteristically sloppy. I feel like I'm always sloppy.

( It's a half-hearted attempt at a joke, and after a breathy laugh, he decides this may not be enough and elaborates further. )

Anyway, I don't think it's about being "better" or not. You're just yourself. Maybe we don't really have to try to be perfect all the time.

[She very nearly gives the reflexive dismissal such suggestions would normally receive, but it occurs to her that it would be... counterproductive. Ruining things again- shut up, shut up-

'Maybe we don't really have to try to be perfect all the time.'

She realizes she's staring. She's not sure why, there's just a pang of... something. Something familiar. It reminds her of Nanashi.

The sudden stab of panic gets more intense. For a moment, she has the urge- inexplicable though it is- to flee. Why on Earth would-

No. Control. She manages, after slightly too long, to summon her usual smug detachment.]

Of course we don't have to, but I choose not to settle for less.

['Nothing here for me,' she signs, and without hesitating he responds 'you have me.'

Then why did he leave? You know why. Stop it. Stop thinking about-]

( Why do those words make him so uncomfortable? He feels... angry. At Azula? For Azula? It's a bit of both, and his fingers curl tighter around his fork. He's using his left hand, he realizes, and the fork drops to his plate just as quickly. )

Stop.

( The words are tense, and when he looks to Azula again, his eyes are rather intense. His emotions always have a way of truly overflowing from them, and it's no different now. Pained, upset, but still so questioning. )

Stop... talking about yourself like that. I don't know what your actual father or your story-fake-father said to you, but you've only ever been patient with me. I'm the one who shouldn't—

( A pause, a breath. )

...You made a mistake. But someone preyed on you. That part isn't your fault, so stop talking about it like it is.

I'm not-

[She starts to snap, but something in her voice hitches. Stop it. Control yourself. Stop ruining this and control-]

I'm not some... helpless victim.

[It at least comes out less hostile. But it's true. It's always been true. She knows what her father was. It wasn't him. She knows he doesn't do love anyway. It wasn't him. Not that she ever needed it- It. -or wanted it- Wasn't. in the first place. Him. Rrgh. Not useful. Not helpful. She had his favor. That was all she needed. All she wanted. To be the best. To be worthy. Not that it mattered, because it wasn't really him.

The panic doesn't go away, but there's a sudden stab of rage. Of- hurt. Of hurt. Why did thinking about this hurt so badly? Why did it hurt Why did he hurt her He didn't mean to- He did this. He didn't. You did. You deserve it. Shut up. You need to eliminate the weakness. Shut up shut up That's it. Do what you always do. Monster. SHUT UP-

There's a sudden peal of thunder from outside, and she doubles over in pain, not the stabbing panic, not the clenching rage, not the pang of something she can't even identify, something more real, physical, visceral, like a hot knife in her ribcage, it hurts it hurts why did he hurt me he didn't do this-]

M-make it-

[The sentence is cut off with a hissing gasp of pain.]

Azula?

( The crashing thunder outside barely registers, feeling more like an emphasis of his heart in this moment. She looks like she's in pain? Why? What happened? Is she actually hurt and hiding it?

He stands, chair pushing back slightly as he leans over the table towards her, hand reaching out to touch her shoulder. )

What's wrong? Are you hurt?

[Make it stop make it stop-

Her skin is hot to touch- almost painfully so. She feels the hand on her shoulder, and her initial impulse is to pull away, to chastise him, but each heartbeat makes the burning agony more intense, and she lets out a strangled cry of pain through clenched teeth, her arm clutching his as she doubles over again-

She manages not to yell, instead muffling it to a harsh, strained whimper. She's not even conscious that she lurches forward and grabs Shealtiel's shoulder the instant the joint snaps back into place, only realizing once the pain begins to subside that she's clinging to him rather roughly-

Still making him take care of your damage. Some thing never change. Shut up. You don't need him. Shut up.

She struggles to straighten herself, to let go, let go, stop being weak- but she can't manage the strength- and you'll take it out on him, you always do, until he leaves again- shut up make it stop-]

I'm- [She hisses in pain again as another burning pang shoots through her-] I'm fine. I just- n-need air.

[She's barely able to choke it out through clenched teeth, and as she looks up at him, the normal amber-gold color of her eyes has been replaced by an unnatural shade of blue. She pushes him away- with surprising roughness- and quickly scrambles to the door, fumbling to let herself outside.]

Wha?!

( It's a struggle for Shealtiel to grasp what's happening, let alone to move his body physically after her. She felt feverish? Or...

The blue eyes catch him off guard, and he's stunned for a moment before racing after her. He doesn't feel fast enough, he's definitely not fast enough, but he tries, and he's left speechless in response to her fleeing like that.

He wanted to help... No, he still does want to help. )

Azula!

[She can control this. She can beat this. She's Azula. She will control this-

Being a monster is the one thing you could never control.

Rrgh. She'd even take the maddening visions of her mother over this, at least those didn't make it impossible to think. Or maybe that was just the pain. She couldn't even tell. She leans against the treehouse for a moment, and it leaves a handprint burnt into the wall.

She blinks, staring down at her hand-

The dreamscape gets darker, the air thicker and heavier, the fool- she doesn't recall his name- is prying, pressing, oh so concerned, and it's all she can do to keep from lashing out at him. A faint smoldering vapor of heat begins to rise from her fingertips, and she clenches her fist to hide it, ignoring the stinging pain in her palm-

That was a nightmare. This wasn't a nightmare. Was it? The only nightmare here is you. Shut. Up. You know who's causing this. You have to eliminate the weakness. shut up shut up SHUT UP-]

I'm not some-

[She grits her teeth and doubles over again as another wave of burning pain floods through her.]

Some helpless child, you fool.

( Why...? What did he do wrong? She came over to celebrate their meeting, so why was she getting so angry with him out of nowhere? Shealtiel's mind races as he steps out to find her, eyes centering in on that burnt handprint now in his treehouse wall. )

I know you're not!

( He's been in those shoes, feeling like he was being treated as helpless, or like a child. For a moment, he pictures Luciferen, and it makes his chest tighten in pain. No. It's different. He's not being like him at all. He's never tried to force Azula one way or another, he's always been open to listening to her, even now...! )

But you look like you're in pain, and you just left a handprint on my wall! Am I supposed to pretend that's normal?!

You're not supposed-

[She lets out another gasp of pain, and her voice is oddly distorted when she speaks again.]

To do anything.

[Her breathing is ragged, and small flickers of blue fire occasionally seem to emerge with each exhale.]

J-just... go back... ins-

[This time, the wave of pain drives her to her knees, and she can't even manage a sound.

That's it. Drive him away, just like all the rest. Stop. Please just- At least alone you can't ruin anything.]

I'm not going to just leave you like this!

( He doesn't-- no, he can't even say that he doesn't understand why she's pushing him away. Of course he understands. He's been there himself. He steps closer, hand reaching out, but he hesitates on going much further than that. She clearly isn't appreciating the contact, and he knows he wouldn't appreciate further pushing in that direction.

But it doesn't mean he can just leave. )

What's... happening with your fire?

I don't know!

[She doesn't actually scream it at him, but her voice is uncharacteristically harsh nonetheless, and it's accompanied by another flicker of fire on her breath.

Does he think he can save you? She grits her teeth, tries to stand, immediately collapses from the pain again. Stupid. Nothing can save you. You're the one people need saving from. Why, why can't she just silence her mind? It's impossible to solve the problem when she can't even think. You know the solution. He's making you weak. What- It'd be kind of funny if he was the first one you really killed. I'm not going to- It's what you do. Stop. He's the problem. Stop. Remember the dream? Remember Nanashi- Stop it stop it stop-

She glares at Shealtiel, eyes now glowing blue in the dark, still gritting her teeth]

I t-told you... to get...

[She's cut off by another wave of pain, and the fabric of her clothing begins to smolder and smoke. This time, she's barely able to stay standing and muffle the cry.]

( Blue eyes, like her fire. Anger, aggression, the same kind of conflict he remembers hearing when he first reappeared in this place. Is it...? )

Is this the same kind of demon-thing messing with you as when I ran into you again?!

( He doesn't know what to make of it. It's different, in many ways. There's no clear hallucinations, no partial conversations, just her telling him off. But the frantically aggressive tone of voice, some hints of her body language...

He reaches out without thinking, gripping the sides of her arms to stabilize her and support her. But as he does, when the fire bursts into his palms, he hisses in pain, pulling his hands back in reflex.

They hover, then, just a short distance from her but not sure if he should continue to touch, after those burns. )

Try to think clearly!

[Demon? No, that had been different. There's no excuse this time. It's you. It's just you.

She feels his hands on her arms, and for a moment, there's stillness, a second of clarity that seems to silence the thoughts. The voices.

And then he pulls his hands back in pain.

You can't help it. Hurting people. Driving them away. It's what you do. It's what you are. Think clearly. He's right. She needs to- That proved it. This is internal. An effect of your psyche on this world. It's his fault. You need to eliminate the weakness. Please. You're going to hurt him no matter what you do. No. You need to eliminate him. Not an option. I just have to control this.

Another intense burning pang shoot through her, and blue fire flares out from her in all directions. She can't even think, she can barely see from the pain.

It's not like he'll stay dead.

Her eyes whip back up to meet his, and there's a moment where she looks like he's rarely seen her before- close to tears.]

Told... t-told you to-

[And then her face falls into an eerily neutral mask, despite the burning blue of her eyes. A moment later, she launches herself at him, lifting him by the neck as she propels him at the wall of her own treehouse with impossible strength.]

Az— gh!

( Shealtiel had been so shocked at seeing her close to tears that he hardly anticipated the lashing out. He reaches up reflexively, burnt hands clenching over the hand at his neck moments before he's slammed into the wall of the treehouse. With a gasp, he shifts one of his hands outwards, calling his spear forward.

With a spin, he aims to knock Azula back rather than actually injure her in any way, at least for now. )

What's happening?!

[She releases his neck in order to catch the spear in both hands, then wrenches it, trying to pull it sharply from him. Once again the level of strength seems impossible- she was in peak physical condition, but she definitely wasn't that strong before.

The good news is, she's released his neck. The bad news is, she's still radiating intense heat, and now small flickers of blue flame are erupting from her arm, cascading down to her hands before vanishing. Her face remains completely neutral, unresponsive to his words.]

( The spear nearly slips from his grip, but he lurches after it, grasping tightly with his other hand, knuckles going white. He can't lose this. It's too important.

It means the fire is licking closer, but he twists his arms and jabs a knee at her to try and get her to release it. Worst case, he could desummon it, but then he'd be without his weapon for the moment, and that takes some concentration...

Ugh, what is going on?

His eyes shift to the side briefly, scanning the area. Maybe running would be better. Their houses are in the way here. And maybe... the air, or the chase, would give her her mind back? )

[She moves her hands to intercept the knee, but too slow. It hits- and she's released the spear.

But the impact does too little. Whatever is giving her all that strength seems to be making her sturdy and strong, too, and she barely flinches back as he hits her midsection. She reaches down and grabs his leg with both hands, wrenching to one side with the unflinching ease of a machine.

Twin bursts of blue fire erupt from her back like wings, and she keeps her unrelenting grip on his leg as she suddenly leaps into the air, carrying him up with her.]

( Shealtiel has been carried in flight often enough now that he's not distracted by the majestic feeling of it. It's not very majestic when you're being pulled up by the leg like some sort of rat, anyway. The rush of adrenaline can help even an angel with pain, it turns out. With a yell, he flails and kicks his free leg, not seeming to care about the risk of being dropped at all. He cares more about being grabbed and carried. )

Let... go!!!

( Kicking, spinning his spear and whacking. She's so sturdy, she's unresponsive, this definitely isn't her. An imposter? No, she knew too much. It didn't feel like someone else before. Something revolving around her fire... Her combat, this dream world... He's slowly piecing bits together, but it's not helping him right now. )

[The blows smack against her torso, hard solid strikes that should double her over with pain, but she doesn't let go. Instead, she flies higher into the air. Fire cascades over her entire body, flaring out brighter and hotter as the two of them rise above the town.

And then, without warning, she stops, spins him around her, and then hurls him toward the buildings below. She follows only moments behind him as he falls.]

( It's only when he's falling (no, thrown?) that he realizes the danger, and his heart races in sudden nauseas panic. His wings won't help him even a little. Even instinct or reflex don't tell him to open them, and they stay hidden away and useless as ever. Visions flash into mind of wings, dark and beautiful, swooping in to save him...

But they don't come. They haven't been here at all. Nor in the place before this. He's been all alone. And even back home, he was only—

Shealtiel's arms lift up to cover his face uselessly for the impact. From how he's spun, he can see Azula in the distance, coming after him. A tiny voice in the back of his mind hisses all humans are the same, but it's muffled by the way his body slams into the buildings and his world goes temporarily black. He's not sure how far he falls, or through how many walls, but he comes to only seconds later, and moving feels difficult as the dust settles. )

[Even as he settles into the ground, Azula is on him, grabbing him roughly by the shoulder to haul him back upright. Her eyes are flat and lifeless as she rears back with one hand, the other still vice-like on his shoulder-

She manages not to yell, instead muffling it to a harsh, strained whimper. She's not even conscious that she lurches forward and grabs Shealtiel's shoulder the instant the joint snaps back into place, only realizing once the pain begins to subside that she's clinging to him rather roughly-

The flame fades from her eyes for a moment-

"Goodbye, Zuko," she repeats, meeting his eyes as she rears back to finish him off, but something stops her, something inside her screams out that she doesn't want this-

She releases him, the flames subsiding, stepping back with a look of horror.]

( For a long moment, Shealtiel wonders if it's ever going to stop. He's grabbed, yanked up, and then he sees the look in her eyes right before he's dropped again. That hurts, too, falling back into place with a hopeless grunt, but he's moving quicker, clinging to that look, trying to stand.

He can't, at least not so quickly after that. And he doesn't know what to do, or to say, to Azula. He can recognize that something is wrong, or off. That something isn't her. But part of him wonders if he's just making that up to protect himself, and another part of him says it doesn't matter...

Another part again says that it doesn't matter if it's her or not. He can't do anything helpful. Not ever, and especially not now. He coughs, some of his weight shifting to his palm that rests onto the debris next to him with a shift, but that's all he can manage. That, and a look, searching, at Azula. )

[As he sinks helplessly down to the ground, she takes another step back, staring at her own hand.

Well? Aren't you going to finish him off?

No. No. No, no-

Go on. Monster. You know you want to-

She meets his stare for a few moments, then turns and flees, leaving smoldering embers with every footstep, trying to ignore the strangely childlike laugh inside her mind.]

ic inbox (songerein)

ACTION, forward-dated to the night of the 21st.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

AND /WRAP