Sokka the 73rd - [Action/Voice]

[markofthewise]

[The house was demolished. And apparently it didn't have the decency to start putting itself together again. Not to mention the whole town was soggy. Most of Sokka's stuff in his room had been damaged. Some of it was salvageable, much of it he had to just throw out. His important valuables were in the basement and though there was a few inches of water down there, his stuff was up high and out of reach. Still, another mess to clean. At least there were two waterbenders in the house to clean that up. For a lover of stuff, Sokka was pretty put out by it. He hadn't been able to sleep in his room because of it. In a way though, he couldn't be upset. It felt right. Like starting over.

And then there was the smithy. Or what was left of it. The whole thing was rubble now. He wasn't even sure if there was a point in trying to pick through it. Best to wait until the Malnosso fixed it, right? It was freeing up his schedule considerably, anyway. At least he was back to his normal practice schedule in the mornings. Even if two straight weeks of combat had left him... weary of it, to say the least. All the same. He found himself to be glad to be back in Luceti. Back in the library, studying his alchemy. Sure, he lost all his notes and would have to start over, but it would be easier since he already knew what needed to be done again. Still. There was so much to go over.]

A guy can't leave for a few weeks without the town getting demolished, huh? Anyway. So uh. A lot of stuff has happened this past week. If anyone wants to, you know, spare some of the good details? I'll be around. Interested. And if you want? I can tell you all about space. Which was pretty great.

[Very around. Like hanging out in the plaza around. No smithy kind of leaves him with no daytime hangout spot. Especially without Suki to spend time with. So besides his training and time at the library, he's very much a man with nothing to do. Evidenced by the fact he's sitting at a bench near the fountain, lazily sprawled out as he counts his one hundredth consecutive hit on a paddle ball. It's uncanny how good he actually is with it.]

Comments

[markofthewise]

He knew Buffy was strong. And he had never expected the General to be a pushover. So for him to manage this... it must be serious. "What did he do?"

[herotypical]

"The usual. Grossly unhygienic blood sword-whip-club combo. Dark words. And he got a little handsy..."

She touched her throat. "It didn't go down at all like I expected. I...thought I had something to bargain with." But what did she want to bargain for? She's still not certain. "Turns out he's a colder fish than we first thought."

[markofthewise]

"Bargain? With what?" That struck him as odd. He knew she had met him before. It wouldn't occur to him that she'd have anything he'd want. Except revenge.

[herotypical]

It wasn't worth hiding. Not from Sokka -- not if he wanted both his and Katara's help should the plan ever be revived from these very unfortunate ashes. So -- fingers skipping lower than the discoloured bruises -- she lifts a thing gold chain. A little gold locket is attached.

"Something I took off his body at the end of round one."

[markofthewise]

That seemed to pique an old memory. Had that been Buffy? It was years ago now. And Sokka hadn't thought much of the cultists back then. The Malnosso had been the bigger threat at the time. At first he reaches out to take it, but hesitates.

"What's inside it?"

[herotypical]

"A picture."

She sat up a little straighter and struggled with undoing the chain. Afterwards, she held it out to Sokka. "Here. Have a look."

[markofthewise]

He accepted the locket and took a moment to figure out how to open it. The picture of the woman prompted him to try to get a closer look. But. He didn't really recognize who it was.

"Any idea who it is?"

[herotypical]

"...The Commandant."

AKA: the woman who actually managed to kill him. Somehow, that made her defeat even more sour.

[markofthewise]

"Are you sure? There's no eyepatch." That stood out. Didn't she have an eyepatch?

[herotypical]

"There is life before eyepatches, you know." Buffy was more freaked out by the fact that it didn't QUITE look like how she thought the Commandant looked. But Luceti was weird. Life-cycles were apparently a thing.

She wasn't sure she wanted to think about it.

[markofthewise]

"Yeah, but those are boring lives." Not much humor there, but he didn't know anyone who lost an eye. Except Zuko, sort of. "So does that mean that they're... exes or something?"

[herotypical]

Oh boy. She would love for you to meet Xander. Really.

"Mmhm. Exes. Nasty break-up. And now they kill each other ad infinitum." Frankly, Buffy could sympathize. "At least, that's my theory."

[markofthewise]

"Lucky me, never having a breakup." His girlfriends just vanished to go to other worlds that he couldn't follow them to.

[herotypical]

Buffy could sympathize with that, too. Perhaps, in the end, she could sympathize with a little too much. It was a weakness.

"Break-ups aren't so bad -- so long as the attempted murder phase is skipped. Sometimes? A break-up can even be mutual. Friendly."

[markofthewise]

He handed the locket back. "Maybe this is their version of friendly."

[herotypical]

Wrapping the chain around her fingers, she chose not to put it back around her neck.

"Then I'd hate to see their version of slightly sour."

[markofthewise]

"In that case, we'd have probably lost the moon. All of it. Tiny chunks."

[herotypical]

"And for a week, it'd be raining moon cheese."

[markofthewise]

"That'd be better than the last time the moon fell on us."

[herotypical]

"Sokka? Almost anything'd be better than that. But I guess we should be grateful that THIS time, the General didn't take any collateral damage with him."

A beat. A horrifying realization. "Not from us, at least. But...some of the other bubbles..."

[markofthewise]

His face fell at that. There were so many bodies that weren't cultists. Fellow draftees. Soldiers. Malnosso civilians. It had been worse than the other drafts. Victory had never been so hard won.

"They never told us the body count..."

[herotypical]

Buffy Summers -- now somewhat familiar with the dread of receiving a butcher's bill after each of her squads' missions -- sighed.

"If they had, would you have wanted to hear it?"

[markofthewise]

"I don't know." Probably not. It wasn't like he was a stranger to this kind of thing. The invasion of the Fire Nation hadn't been without casualties. Maybe Luceti had just spoiled him. "They'll all come back, though."

[herotypical]

The confession tumbled out a little too quickly: "I...wonder what it's like. Coming back, I mean. Here. Here's version of coming back."

And if it was anything like the traumatic experience it had been at home. Would every one of those bodies go through it?

Would they be better off staying dead?

[markofthewise]

The question made him pale. And reflexively, he reached for his left shoulder, running his hand past his heart. It was like he needed to be sure it was still beating. It made him feel sick whenever he thought about that.

"I... haven't thought about it."