Sokka Thunderaxe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
markofthewise) wrote2012-06-06 08:37 am
markofthewise) wrote2012-06-06 08:37 am
Sokka the 72nd - [Written/Action]
[This morning, Sokka trained alone again. Same time as always. Knowing the fate of Okita Souji was still in the air made the experience numb. If he was going to return, it would be in the next day or so. But it was so hard to think of death as just a temporary disappearance. Not when life had shown him what real death was like. What it meant to be a little kid hoping that maybe mom really did just go away for awhile. But she'd be back. And that dad and everyone else in the village were wrong. It was cruel that death was so cheap here. Just like everything was. He was tired and drained by the time he finished, having lost track of time completely.
Returning home, he had a quick breakfast. It was still early and most of the others were usually fond of sleeping in later than he did. However, usually Suki would take up before he headed to the smithy. Not wanting to leave her high and dry, he went to knock on her door. No answer. He knocked again. Nothing. Several thoughts occurred to him. Maybe she was sleeping deeply. Or had been kidnapped. Or had already woke up and left. Warily he turned the door knob and pushed the door open. What he expected to find was Suki's room. One slightly cluttered with her stuff and very much reflecting the woman who owned it.
It was empty. The mattress was bare. The dressers and tables were cleaned and held nothing. The curtains were drawn so that sunlight flooded the room. It was a thorough Malnosso cleaning job. It was like she had never been there at all. Like nothing had mattered. The room may as well have been on fire for how it hit him. He stumbled back. Closed his eyes and tried to will it away as a hallucination. But it was still the same. Empty. Empty. Empty.
If he walked out now, his housemates would be asking what happened. So, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he stepped in the empty room and closed the door behind him. And then slumping against it, slid to the ground into a miserable pile. He wanted to go looking for her. Write a filter to her name. Desperately cling onto some slim hope that maybe this was a mistake and she was still in Luceti. But Sokka had always been the logical one. He didn't cling to faint hope when there wasn't any. He couldn't fool himself into thinking it was fake. And as it began to sink in, he buried his head between his arms.
An hour was spent like this, before he was at least able to pick himself up. He started to search the room, to see if the Malnosso had left anything behind by mistake. Or if Suki had hidden something for him. There was nothing under the bed or mattress, her dresser drawers were empty, and there wasn't even dust to be found in the closet. The last place he looked was the stand beside her bed. He didn't expect to find something in so obvious a place, but after pulling the drawer open, he found two things. The engagement necklace he had given her over a year ago. And a journal. Not the one she received from Luceti though. He held the necklace tightly in his hand at first. Tight enough that he was worried he might break it. For a long time he just stared at the image engraved in it. A sun over the waves. It had been a symbol of their devotion. Only now she was gone.
For a moment, he thought about wearing it. But since it wouldn't fit around his own neck, he fastened it around his arm instead. And then he opened the journal. He had an idea of what was inside. A year ago he accidentally stumbled on it while looking for something he lost in her room. He hadn't told her about it. And when he had seen the first note telling him not to snoop, he had managed to force himself not to continue. Barely. At the time, he had been upset that she was even keeping something like this. But now, it was the only words he had left from her. So he paged past the first note, expecting to find a letter for him. And for her friends. But each note hit him hard. Every single one of them were for him. He didn't have to guess when each one was written. Most of the time he could tell. He just knew. Some of them would tug at a small smile. But then another would crush him. By the time he was finished, his throat was dry and his eyes red and cheeks tear stained.
He couldn't stand to stay inside much longer. So when he was sure the house was empty, he finally left her room. In his room, he collected his gear. And lastly, his journal. For a long time he found himself staring at it. Of course he'd have to tell everyone. But no amount of sympathy or hugs was going to change things. And at the moment... he wanted to be alone. So he found a pen and an empty page and kept it brief.]
[Written]
Suki has been sent home. She's back where she belongs.
[The last bit felt so hollow and such a lie that he nearly scratched it out. Rather than wait for replies, he shut the journal completely, intending to ignore it. As he tossed it on the bed, the back cover of the journal was left open. There was a message from MARS. He was approved for a mission. Combat. Hard combat in Sirry Crags. He didn't hesitate for long. An escape from Luceti was what he wanted. It was easy to bury his feelings into combat. So he made his mark. Accepted. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.
He then threw the journal aside. Hard. It hit the top of his dresser and knocked off some of the weapons displayed there, sending them to the ground. When he went to go pick it up, he found himself still frustrated and incensed and threw them aside as well. And then... the bed. That ridiculously huge bed. He'd never be able to carry out a queen sized bed on his own. So taking one of those weapons, he started to cut it in half. So he could carry it out back and let it burn. He had kept the oversized bed for so long because in another life, it was the one they shared as a married couple. One they might use again if they ever did marry. But that future wasn't going to happen. So for a half hour he sat behind the house, watching the pieces of it burn. Later he would dispose of the metal properly, but for now he didn't care about things like that.
In the end, he spent the rest of the day brooding. He found some privacy in the basement under the house, where he kept re-reading the notes Suki had left for him. Later, he returned to his room to clean up the mess. Now that it was an empty room with a bed, he had the space and privacy to practice what Okita Souji had taught him. But unconsciously he'd keep slipping into Kyoshi Warrior stances before he'd catch himself and force himself to stop. As evening set in, he sat behind the house, up against a tree near Katara's garden, and tried to play a flute he had not touched in a year. When he couldn't evne produce a tune, he threw it in the woods. That night, he tossed his blankets on his floor and slept there. It was a miserable way to sleep.]
[[ooc: Okay to sum it up, Sokka is being miserable around his house, but he's not straying far from it because he doesn't want to run into people. But people can seek him out and look for him if they want to. He will NOT be responding on the journal. So if you tag that way, he won't reply! (But maybe a housemate will? I haven't talked to them about that yet.) The day after, he'll be on a mission and gone for a few weeks.
Also, backdated to the 6th.]]
Returning home, he had a quick breakfast. It was still early and most of the others were usually fond of sleeping in later than he did. However, usually Suki would take up before he headed to the smithy. Not wanting to leave her high and dry, he went to knock on her door. No answer. He knocked again. Nothing. Several thoughts occurred to him. Maybe she was sleeping deeply. Or had been kidnapped. Or had already woke up and left. Warily he turned the door knob and pushed the door open. What he expected to find was Suki's room. One slightly cluttered with her stuff and very much reflecting the woman who owned it.
It was empty. The mattress was bare. The dressers and tables were cleaned and held nothing. The curtains were drawn so that sunlight flooded the room. It was a thorough Malnosso cleaning job. It was like she had never been there at all. Like nothing had mattered. The room may as well have been on fire for how it hit him. He stumbled back. Closed his eyes and tried to will it away as a hallucination. But it was still the same. Empty. Empty. Empty.
If he walked out now, his housemates would be asking what happened. So, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he stepped in the empty room and closed the door behind him. And then slumping against it, slid to the ground into a miserable pile. He wanted to go looking for her. Write a filter to her name. Desperately cling onto some slim hope that maybe this was a mistake and she was still in Luceti. But Sokka had always been the logical one. He didn't cling to faint hope when there wasn't any. He couldn't fool himself into thinking it was fake. And as it began to sink in, he buried his head between his arms.
An hour was spent like this, before he was at least able to pick himself up. He started to search the room, to see if the Malnosso had left anything behind by mistake. Or if Suki had hidden something for him. There was nothing under the bed or mattress, her dresser drawers were empty, and there wasn't even dust to be found in the closet. The last place he looked was the stand beside her bed. He didn't expect to find something in so obvious a place, but after pulling the drawer open, he found two things. The engagement necklace he had given her over a year ago. And a journal. Not the one she received from Luceti though. He held the necklace tightly in his hand at first. Tight enough that he was worried he might break it. For a long time he just stared at the image engraved in it. A sun over the waves. It had been a symbol of their devotion. Only now she was gone.
For a moment, he thought about wearing it. But since it wouldn't fit around his own neck, he fastened it around his arm instead. And then he opened the journal. He had an idea of what was inside. A year ago he accidentally stumbled on it while looking for something he lost in her room. He hadn't told her about it. And when he had seen the first note telling him not to snoop, he had managed to force himself not to continue. Barely. At the time, he had been upset that she was even keeping something like this. But now, it was the only words he had left from her. So he paged past the first note, expecting to find a letter for him. And for her friends. But each note hit him hard. Every single one of them were for him. He didn't have to guess when each one was written. Most of the time he could tell. He just knew. Some of them would tug at a small smile. But then another would crush him. By the time he was finished, his throat was dry and his eyes red and cheeks tear stained.
He couldn't stand to stay inside much longer. So when he was sure the house was empty, he finally left her room. In his room, he collected his gear. And lastly, his journal. For a long time he found himself staring at it. Of course he'd have to tell everyone. But no amount of sympathy or hugs was going to change things. And at the moment... he wanted to be alone. So he found a pen and an empty page and kept it brief.]
[Written]
Suki has been sent home. She's back where she belongs.
[The last bit felt so hollow and such a lie that he nearly scratched it out. Rather than wait for replies, he shut the journal completely, intending to ignore it. As he tossed it on the bed, the back cover of the journal was left open. There was a message from MARS. He was approved for a mission. Combat. Hard combat in Sirry Crags. He didn't hesitate for long. An escape from Luceti was what he wanted. It was easy to bury his feelings into combat. So he made his mark. Accepted. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.
He then threw the journal aside. Hard. It hit the top of his dresser and knocked off some of the weapons displayed there, sending them to the ground. When he went to go pick it up, he found himself still frustrated and incensed and threw them aside as well. And then... the bed. That ridiculously huge bed. He'd never be able to carry out a queen sized bed on his own. So taking one of those weapons, he started to cut it in half. So he could carry it out back and let it burn. He had kept the oversized bed for so long because in another life, it was the one they shared as a married couple. One they might use again if they ever did marry. But that future wasn't going to happen. So for a half hour he sat behind the house, watching the pieces of it burn. Later he would dispose of the metal properly, but for now he didn't care about things like that.
In the end, he spent the rest of the day brooding. He found some privacy in the basement under the house, where he kept re-reading the notes Suki had left for him. Later, he returned to his room to clean up the mess. Now that it was an empty room with a bed, he had the space and privacy to practice what Okita Souji had taught him. But unconsciously he'd keep slipping into Kyoshi Warrior stances before he'd catch himself and force himself to stop. As evening set in, he sat behind the house, up against a tree near Katara's garden, and tried to play a flute he had not touched in a year. When he couldn't evne produce a tune, he threw it in the woods. That night, he tossed his blankets on his floor and slept there. It was a miserable way to sleep.]
[[ooc: Okay to sum it up, Sokka is being miserable around his house, but he's not straying far from it because he doesn't want to run into people. But people can seek him out and look for him if they want to. He will NOT be responding on the journal. So if you tag that way, he won't reply! (But maybe a housemate will? I haven't talked to them about that yet.) The day after, he'll be on a mission and gone for a few weeks.
Also, backdated to the 6th.]]
[Action]
[He has to figure this out for himself.]
[Action]
[Action]
[Action -> Nothing?]
He knew he should be feeling happy. Suki was happy. At this time, she was back at the party at Ba Sing Se, laughing while Sokka complains about his newly caught case of the oogies. That night, she would be there with them on Appa's back, enjoying the spectacle of the fireworks on a perfect night only marred by the promise Zuko forced upon him. Aang shook his head. He wasn't supposed to think about that.
Instead, he remembered Suki, as he had come to know her here, and how much she meant to Sokka.
I mean... it's the most amazing promise that you make with the person you love and want to spend your life with. It's knowing that you're going to be with them, always, and they'll be with you. It's knowing that your future will have some kind of happiness in it, because they'll be standing beside you. It's knowing that you'll never be alone again.
But you all are the only family I have, and I like to protect what's mine.
...I'm really glad we're all here, then, as bad as that might sound. Even in a place like this, we've got a family.
And thinking about it made him feel rotten. Because he compared it with back home and how little they had talked there. How he hadn't seen her in over a year... he wasn't even sure if she and Sokka were still a couple, when he thought about it. He was horrified at the thought that none of them might be as close to Suki back home as they were back here. This was different from losing a memory of someone from another world... it was a beloved friend and his best friend's fiancee becoming someone much more distant and almost like a stranger in relation.
He started to see things how Sokka saw them. Even with all the bad things that happened here, there was the potential for love and beautiful bonds that couldn't be possible back home. He was already making new friends he would never want to lose. Sokka and Suki had managed to form something here that was more intimate than his relationship with Katara back home, and now it was all snatched away just like that. They might never be that close back home, and Aang now felt guilty even about he and Katara giving him the oogies when he had no idea where he stood with Suki.
It all came down to the clash between the two worlds: the one they came from, and the one they were stuck in. And which, in the end, was more valid: the precious moments possible in this world, or the hearts of the people who produced them?
He couldn't tell. For now, as he sniffed and sobbed, Aang whispered one sentence to the now empty house.]
Goodbye, Suki.