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]

"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."

[herotypical]

"Jack said, uhm, that it was like being in nothingness. Forever. Or maybe that's just what his mind filled the time with, after the fact...still. I don't know how I feel about that. Nothingness. Being nowhere. At least--"

She watched his hand. She worried, but didn't connect any dots. Instead, she nibbled at a piece of doughnut.

"Maybe I shouldn't be thinking about it either."

Death is your gift. And the General's gift, too.

[markofthewise]

"What was it like? For you?"

[herotypical]

"For me?"

A sharp intake of breath. How could she explain it? She's not exactly certain that Sokka's world has the right equivalent paradise to help explain how her afterlife had changed her.

Ah, well. She unwound and rewound the locket's chain. Best to start at the beginning, really.

"For one thing, I wasn't dead for just a week. I was dead for..." Spike's voice. She always, always heard it in Spike's voice. He'd kept count. "A hundred and forty seven days."

[markofthewise]

"That long..." He released a breath as he said it, not aware he'd been holding it. Already, he found himself thinking about Ed and his mother. How long had she been gone when they tried to bring her back? They had failed. And the price had been horrific. Human transmutation. A forbidden sin for alchemists. So he wondered how it had worked fro Buffy, after so long a time.

"How did it happen?"

[herotypical]

Carefully: "Which part? The dying? Or the coming back?"

[markofthewise]

He had meant the latter. But since she was asking: "Both?"

[herotypical]

"I..."

The truth was always so difficult. Buffy -- ever concerned with appearances before some certain loved ones -- worried that Sokka might misinterpret her choice. Or see suicide where she had intended sacrifice.

She had intended sacrifice, right? That was the party line; she stuck to it.

"I jumped. There was a very, very tall tower and I jumped. Because if I didn't do it, Dawn would've had to and...and I didn't want to live in a world where that could be allowed to happen."

[markofthewise]

So she did it for her sister. He didn't need more details than that. He understood perfectly well that kind of sacrifice. He'd make the same choice, if it ever came down to it. Or. He hoped he would.

"... I see."

[herotypical]

"I chose it. It's very important that you know that I decided to take my leave, knowing it'd leave her safe. All of them safe."

Buffy hadn't been certain that they'd needed her anymore. Except...

"But Willow's a very powerful witch. You're not supposed to be able to undo a death like that but -- if anyone was gonna figure it out, it was gonna be her."

[markofthewise]

So. Magic. He wasn't really surprised, knowing what he did about her world. But it meant her friend brought her back. Nothing else. Just someone who refused to let go. It was a concept he could understand. But he came from a world where there wasn't anything to lure people into a false hope of bringing the dead back to life.

"And it worked." Obviously. "What was it like?"