I'm the Avatar, and you gotta deal with it!

[anatural]

When; Grab Bag Weekend!
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Korra and anybody else
Summary; Korra wakes up Saturday morning with her full Avatar powers...and no memory of the City.
Log;

When Korra opens her eyes Saturday morning, it's to find herself in a strange bed.

She spends a moment staring at the ceiling, trying to understand what's happening. Trying to remember what happened that would have brought her here. But there's nothing. The last thing she remembers is kissing Mako.

Mako... Maybe he's here. She rolls out of bed. If he's here, if any of her friends are here, she'll find them.

And if she finds the person who kidnapped her, she's going to make him regret being born.

Comments

Saturday morning - housemates

[anatural]

[bookbending]

[Korra is late for their daily morning meditation (or "meditation attempt," to be more accurate) and so, with a Tenzin-esque air of dutiful resignation, Jinora goes to fetch her.]

Korra! Are you awake?

[anatural]

[Korra was just about to open the door anyway when she hears Jinora's voice. She throws the door open and grabs the younger girl's shoulders.]

Jinora! You're here too!

[bookbending]

[Woah. She saw you, like, eight hours ago, Korra. You didn't miss her that much.]

I live here. Did you have a weird dream?

[anatural]

What? This isn't Air Temple Island.

[Have a weird dream? She feels like she's in the middle of one right now.]

[bookbending]

Nooo. This is the City. You've been here longer than me.

[anatural]

[Korra steps back.]

What are you talking about?

[bookbending]

You're cursed.

[Obviously. Jinora is starting to blame every weird thing that happens on curses, whether or not it's warranted.]

This is the City, you've been here for a long time, we live here with Chief Bei Fong and Miles and Tohru, and I'm trying to help you with your airbending. Okay?

[anatural]

No, not okay! I was just at the South Pole, with Master Katara and [Mako] everyone.

Where's Mako?

Saturday

[anatural]

[note time of day in subject]

Afternoon

[unflagging]

[Pay no mind to the crow perched on that lamp post. Crows often perch on lamp posts. It's what they do.

It shakes some snow off its back. That's all.

Maybe it seems like it's watching. Maybe that's just how crows look.

Pay it no mind, pay it no mind.]

Afternoon

[anatural]

[And Korra doesn't. She's in the park (a favorite place of hers, though she doesn't remember that now) running through her firebending forms. It's her only comfort in a world that's making absolutely no sense.]

Afternoon

[unflagging]

[Now, this is something to watch--and watch he does, drawing a bit closer and a bit closer, hopping out to the end of a branch to watch.

Firedancing, pyromancy, or something like it. And skillful. Nicely done. Artful.

Now, not such an unusual ability, to draw fire out of nothing (after all, he was happy to demonstrate that little trick for Roland down in that mountainside Golgotha), but an interesting one, nonetheless.

He was content to watch, but if there was a ring to fly through, he would probably do it. Just to draw attention to himself. For funsies.]

Afternoon

[anatural]

[You're in luck, crow. Korra performs a few spinkicks, creating circles of trailing flame and smoke.]

Afternoon

[unflagging]

[How opportune. He flies through them, looping, diving. It's a bit showy, but then rings of fire are a bit showy in and of themselves.

He swoops and lands on a nearby branch. And cocks an eye at her.]

Such skill, my lady.

[Yes, of course, this crow talks--but with a crow's voice, as one would expect of a crow.]

Afternoon

[anatural]

What -- [Did that crow just talk?!?!]

Afternoon

[unflagging]

[Well, yeah. Magic crow.]

I said "Such skill, my lady." Such skill to wield such power, and with such grace. How very like art, how very like a dance. A dance of fire.

Sunday

[anatural]

[note time of day in subject]

Sunday - Nighttime ♥

[mortemscintilla]

[ He's out killing time. Alone, armed with blades, in a dismal stretch of the Underground close to midnight. He's fallen deeper into that habit as the months wear on -- playing chicken with himself in dangerous neighborhoods, places where being human is a bullseye on the forehead, where one misstep can get you served as someone's supper. ]

[ He's outside a stuffy bar lit by red neon beer signs, in a part of a settlement that reeks of booze and rotten meat, with a pungent undercurrent of raw sewage. It's a venue that takes a little bravery to swagger into, fresh and mortal and on his own. Not that bravery is ever his problem. ]

[ Or a gang of snarling demons ready to take his mind off his troubles. An hour ago they'd jumped him with fists and fangs in the alley just for breathing-while-human. He'd been fighting them for a solid amount of time -- they came at him like a hailstorm, gradually tapering off into a few stragglers he was able to gut with his cables. When he's finished with them all, Hei is scuffed up, bruised, and exhausted. Somewhere in the distance, jazz from the bar dopplers, like the dizzying reverb of his pulse. ]

[ Resting his hands on his knees, he gulps air. With every blink, the battle renews in his mind, superseded by the ten-thousand past moments in which he'd just almost lost his life. Here, in Tokyo, in Heaven's War, in every godforsaken corner of the planet. Focus. This is no time to suffer the beginnings of a slow-crawling PTSD attack. ]

[ He feels alone. Yet also, uncannily, like he's being watched. ]

Sunday - Nighttime ♥

[anatural]

[In retrospect, exploring her new prison alone hadn't been the best idea. She's lost in a dark, dingy, disgusting smelling place with no idea how to get out and no way to contact her friends. She'd deliberately left that weird communication device behind. She had wanted to be alone, to have a chance to process everything. It was impossible to believe what Jinora and Chief Bei Fong told her. There's no way she's been here for seven months. There's no way she's settled down and made a life here. Her life is in Republic City, with Mako. With Bolin and Asami and Tenzin.

Everything feels wrong. Out of sync. It makes her skin itch, like it's stretched too tight across her body, like at any moment she's going to explode.

Catching the sound of a fight ahead is practically a relief. It doesn't make her any less lost, but at least she'll have an outlet for this nervous energy. She runs towards it, but by the time she gets there, the fight is over. There's just a man standing there, panting, bruised.]

Hey, are you oka--

[When he looks up, her heart stops. That mask. It looks nothing like Amon's, but it still freezes her blood. She can feel him control her body, feel one hand grip her neck as the other comes down to rob her of everything.

She makes no move to attack, her instincts debating between fight and flight, but she calls up a flame, partly in preparation for self-defense, partly to reassure herself that Amon had failed and she's still the Avatar.]

Sunday - Nighttime ♥

[mortemscintilla]

[ The echoes of the struggle must've muffled her footsteps. Otherwise Hei knows he'd hear the newcomer approaching. Her voice frays the threads of strobing memory with the neat precise snip of a scissors' blade. He straightens, wiping the loose moist crumbs of earth off his coat and hair. When he sees who it is, his stomach roils in a queasy rush. Great. Her. His stance alters, going from depleted to still and steely. There are bodies strewn around the area of the battle, collapsed with limbs bent at odd angles over crates, or dripping blood and glistening spilt guts across the rough tarmac. Part of his jacket is clinging to a shattered glass pane, and there's a gash spreading dark on his right sleeve. ]

[ He starts to take a step toward Korra. But when she conjures the flame, he stops. Did she get her bending back? ]

[ He keeps his voice terse and businesslike. But there's a querulous edge, ]

What're you doing here? [ There's something off about her body-language. A hum of tension. Exactly what he was feeling, a moment ago. ]

Sunday - Nighttime ♥

[anatural]

[The question comes out like he knows her, which only unsettles Korra more. His voice is rough and cold, nothing like Amon's, and yet the difference doesn't reassure her at all. Everything about him screams danger.]

Who are you?

Sunday - Nighttime ♥

[mortemscintilla]

[ Under his mask, Hei wets his lips, tasting sweat and blood -- not that it matters. Korra is practically simmering with hostility, eyes aglow, the air vibrating around her. Yet she takes him in as if he's a stranger. Who are you? That one question slides everything into place, like beads slipping on a string. ]

[ She's cursed. ]

[ Instead of dignifying her with a response -- What difference does it make? She'll remember again once the weekend's over -- he moves to go. It's a decision that seems both offhand and disinterested, but is mostly just churlish. He's been avoiding her for awhile, because it's hard to look at her, because her face is full of things he doesn't want to recall -- the errors upon errors, all coming back to him in an inventory of ambivalence and attraction and dismay, ultimately so jumbled up he can't clear them up and lock them away. ]

[ So he does what comes naturally. Retreat. ]

Sunday - Nighttime ♥

[anatural]

Hey, I asked you a question!

[Just because a part of her had been contemplating flight doesn't mean he gets to. How does he know her? Why is he wearing a mask?

She slams her foot on the ground, calling up a wall of earth to block his path.]

Sunday - Nighttime ♥

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei freezes at the obstruction of jutting earth. His retreat doesn't look like a retreat; more a casual realignment of balance, a shift of muscles. But inside, frustration boils. He very pointedly does not want to get into a discussion with her, much less an altercation. He's exhausted, disoriented and in pain. But almost all his life is spent in such a state. That's not the reason for his skittishness. ]

[ It's just bad timing. It isn't Korra's fault, and also no excuse. ]

I don't want to get into this right now. [ His voice echoes back to him, robotic. ] It'll make sense to you tomorrow. [ Then, in a different tone, almost a snap, ] But right now, you shouldn't be here.