markofthewise | Sokka the 39th

[Nothing like peaceful summer days after bloody warfare. After having to avoid being killed by a giant rampaging reindeer the day before, Sokka has been a little slow starting the day since he was returned, opting to simply collapse in bed there and more or less die there. Village or not, he was rather attached to his bed. The one in the hotel while comfortable, was way too big. It's not until well past noon he decides to return to the world at large. This means he needs to go see people. His first stop will be the check on Raphael, which means a visit to Donatello. He unfortunately got the worst of it.

Second is a visit to Winry. He'll try her house first (it is a Sunday), then check the smithy failing that, which means he'll be able to see Edward too. Having already spoken to Brook about Chopper, he can bypass a trip to the Straw Hats and goes looking for San... for a few hours at least. Eventually he'll head down to the river to check his canoes. While he's down there, he leave a simple voice message on his journal for everyone else.]

So, what did I miss?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Of course. [He takes a step inside.] I don't think I've ever actually been in here before. [And takes a brief look around.] It's nice.

If you call messy nice.

Make yourself comfortable. Do you want something to drink?

This isn't messy. Cluttered, really. [If she wanted messy, she should have seen where he lived before Katara arrived. This is the sort of of messy Sokka can really appreciate though.]

Sure, whatever is fine. [He sits down on the couch and idly takes one of the books off the top of a nearby stack.]

We also have some fruit. Do you want a slice of cantaloupe?

[This one in particular is about technology, which is right up his alley. He thumbs through it, stopping on the pages that interest him.]

Huh? Oh sure. Yeah. [He's a little distracted as he's considering the implications of using the technology in this book, which details the mechanics of toaster ovens, and applying them to the need of creating a machine that dries clothes twice as fast as the dryer back home.]

Do you want to borrow that? I've already read it.

This? [He goes through a few more pages.] Nah, I have my own stuff to work through. [He sets it back on the stack and takes the glass. After taking a sip, he puts on a broad smile.]

So, be honest. How much did you miss me?

About as much as a cat misses water.

[Catgators love water, cat owls don't, and regular cats are uncommon where he's from. So that goes entirely over his head and he assumes that means that yes, she missed him a lot.]

Right. Well me too.

Are you ready to tell me that story?

Yeah. [Sokka undoes the strap for both his sword sheath and his boomerang holster, allowing him to lean back after he sets them aside. He pulls out his boomerang and holds it out.]

This was my dad's boomerang for a long time, but I was able to use it even as a kid. He used to say I was the best boomerang thrower in the village, too. Well, I was about eight at the time.... and there was this older kid, four years older than me. A tough kid, well over twice my size. Well, he used to be considered the best and didn't like the fact that some kid was better than him. [He pauses to take another drink.]

Well anyway, that boy had something he had been working on. Something pretty cool that he had been bragging to everyone else about. So I decided to challenge him to see who the better boomerang thrower was. If he won, he got my dad's boomerang and if I won, I got his thing. Of course, I won. He was good, but I was better. Of course, when my mom and dad found out, they were pretty mad. A little harshly punished, if you asked me. Sure, it wasn't my boomerang to bet, but it wasn't like I was going to lose.

Anyway, I won that necklace off him. I've had to make new shell beads to add to it since then, but I've had it for... wow, half my life now. [Concluding his story, Sokka takes a piece of fruit.]

Sounds like you were an idiot back then, too.

[He frowns as he takes the necklace back, tying it back around his own neck.]

Hey. An eight year old kid beating a twelve year old is pretty impressive, you know.

So during this contest what did you hit?

Icicles. Big ones. It was to see how many you could knock down with one throw and still have your boomerang come back and be able to catch it. He had five. I had seven. [Ah, if only boomerangs worked like that for real.]