markofthewise | Sokka the 77th

Entry tags:

[action],
[voice]

Sokka the 77th - [Action/Voice]

[On February Twenty-Fifth, Sokka turned nineteen. On the Twenty-Sixth, he left on a routine mission to work as a mechanic on one of the Malnosso's three space vessels high up in orbit. There was no battle, this time. Just good honest work, people to relate to, and a small bunk to call his own. Seven days, just like that.

On March Fourth, one of the mechanics triggered a malfunction on the hangar doors. The crew quickly fled, just as the power went down. They needed to close the hatch leading to the hallway. But without power, it could only be closed from one side. The one about to be opened up into space. The hero, the stupid hero, closed the door. In those brief moments, he thought that maybe if he reached a Tyr Fighter, he could climb in one of those. He ran. Hard.

He didn't make it.

Today, he fell into the sea, nearly drowning, and was saved by the Avatar. It distracted him from what happened, but now that she was off exploring town, he had the chance to go in his room, get dressed, and collect his weapons. It was a good thing he chose not to bring them. They'd be out floating in space right now, otherwise. One thing was strange, though. He wasn't upset. He wasn't distressed. He could only look back on it and regret that it even happened. That was a week's worth of points he wouldn't be getting. Damn Malnosso cheapskates.

After a bit of cleaning up, he went to go approach this new day. He'd be gone from Luceti for two weeks. People would probably miss him. But his first destination was the smithy.

The only problem was that once he got to the smithy, he found himself looking at the walls. They were barer than he left them. People had been picking up some of the weapons he'd made. Well, that wasn't going to do. He wasn't running a charity here.]

Hey Luceti. Looks like I got back in time for the new feathers to roll in. I'm Sokka. Hope you guys are settling in fine! I run the Slash 'n Crash, the local smithy and weapon shop. I make most of the weapons here. I do take commissions if people want stuff. But since there's no money, just talk to me and we can work out a trade. No point in breaking your back for nothing, right?

Anyway, did I miss anything important?

[For the rest of the day, Sokka can be found at the smithy. Later he does about an hour of catch up work at the library, before going home to dinner. Remarkably enough, he doesn't feel like drinking today.

Today is a good day.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[After blinking in surprise at his response, she snorts and shakes her head. Most people here seem to like animals well enough. Even useless pets. It's rare, she thinks, to meet someone that might actually agree with her on Buttercup's uselessness.]

Stew.

[It had been her threat to the damn creature often enough.]

Well. Sure. Meat goes without saying.

[But it had been an honest question. Either way, he starts to load up the canoe with some extra gear, then waves her over to do the same.]

[She grins as she drops her bag in the canoe with the rest of the supplies and then carefully adds her bow and quiver to the pile.]

I can't think of anything else.

[Said as she lifts some of the gestured to gear to bring to the canoe.]

Winry has a bunch of them. They seem like a pain.

[With the canoe all set, he gestures for her to take the front. He'll push them in and take the back.]

They are.

[And that's putting it mildly, she thinks. A bunch of cats? She can't even imagine. Really doesn't want to. More than one Buttercups pacing around the house. Their hair getting everywhere. Plaintive mewls when she scowls at them or threatens to make kitty stew. It must be horrible.

She shakes her head in disgust as she climbs in the canoe, picking up one of the oars and resting it along the edges of the boat.]

Prim's the only reason I haven't gotten rid of Buttercup. I couldn't do that to her memory.

[Ah, her sister, if he remembers right. Awkward.]

That'd be a good reason for it.

[With her all set, he pushes the canoe into the water and quickly jumps in before he gets any deeper than his boots. Once they're steady on the water, he decides it's best not to talk about dead family.]

Bolin has Pabu. He's not a cat, but he's sort of cat-like? But he can do tricks at least.

[She waits until they're actually deep enough in the water to put her oar in and start paddling. Her form has improved a lot since that first initial lesson and even as she replies to Sokka's comment, she makes certain to listen for any directions he might have. Better, sometimes, to bow down to the person with more experience in a task.

It'll make getting to the lake all that more expedient.]

I think I saw that on the journal. [She pauses for a moment, remembering.] Tricks still aren't all that useful.

Maybe. But I've never seen a cat do a trick.

[Fortunately they're already past where the river splits, so no explicit directions are needed for this rather calm river. And since they're going downstream, it's just a matter of keeping the canoe in the center of the river. He directs it as best he can to get them in position, which is fortunately not that hard. Sometimes he wishes this river wasn't so ordinary.]

[She's never experienced anything but the calm rivers of Luceti. She's not even all that aware rivers can be more adventurous, as adrenaline pumping as a flight with Appa. Were she, her thoughts probably wouldn't be all that different from Sokka's on the matter.

With a shrug, she continues paddling.]

There's a game we'd sometimes play. Crazy Cat. But that's not so much a trick as watching Buttercup make a fool of himself. [A brief laugh of amusement.] More of a fool than normal.

You know, another fun game with cats would be throwing them in a river to see what happens.

[Or maybe that'd be sadistic. But he things its funny.]

[It might be sadistic but it gets a laugh anyway. How many times did she tell Buttercup on a rather regular basis that she should have drowned him as a kitten? And she even had attempted it once. A Hollow Day after her father's death. She had been so desperate for food and that cat, that cat did nothing but take up more resources. But then Prim ran up to her in tears and begged her to stop torturing the cat.

Since that day, she's stuck with threads.]

They can swim but most cats hate water. At least Buttercup does. It can be entertaining to watch him in the rain.

[He nearly suggests tying stones to the cats feet and for a moment, he's surprised by the fact it doesn't bother him at all to say that. His only reservation in mind is that it would be a waste of resources. So he doesn't and stares at the water beside them instead. He opts for a pun.]

Maybe that's where catfish come from.

[She blinks for a few moments, processing the unexpected joke before she starts to giggle. Katniss turns her head to flash him a broad smile, the sort of glowing and happy grin that's rare on her features. It's a good joke. The sort of joke that deserves a reward.

And she's missed this. Missed just relaxing and enjoying herself and being at ease.]

It'd explain the name.

[He returns the smile, but it's not a very sincere one. If anything, he's mostly just pleased to have a successful joke.]

Yeah. But they're not very cat like. We don't have cat fish in my world. But if we did? Pretty sure they wouldn't look like the ones here.

[Her brow wrinkles as she tries to picture a catfish looking like anything else but a catfish. Her imagination comes up short.]

What would it look like?

Maybe... furrier? With teeth. Possibly legs?

[It's hard enough envisioning non-hybrid animals without ever seeing them. But in reverse is even harder to imagine.]

[She makes a face at that, even if Sokka can't see it. But she does shake her head. That sounds ridiculous. Amusing, yes, but ridiculous. Especially since she doesn't think he means this to be a joke.]

Fish don't have legs. That's what makes them fish.

In your world, maybe. We don't exactly separate our animals the same way you do.

[Because, well, it's kind of impossible to. So many animals that are between being reptiles and mammals, fish and birds, and so on.]

[She glances down at the water as they continue to paddle their way to the lake, eyeing some of the passing fish. It really is difficult to imagine them with legs. Unless... unless they were muttations. But even those creatures followed some basic shape and form of nature.]

How do you separate your animals?

Tastiest to least tastiest.

[The humorous response is yet again not the response that she expects to hear. She had been anticipating a serious reply, some sort of difficult to comprehend explanation of why animals in Sokka's world differed. And how.

But this? This is so much better. And something as a hunter she can greatly appreciate.

So she laughs again and quickly turns around to give him a challenging look.] Not by easiest to kill?

That too. We have many measures. But if you're hungry, only tastiest matters.

[In all seriousness, he would be unable to deliver an adequate answer. Because his world, as he well knew, was governed by nonsense. And he was deeply ashamed of that, sometimes. Even if he didn't regret where he came from, it was sort of like having a pair of parents hanging around with you trying to act cool, but were just being lame.]

If you're hungry, easiest to kill is what really matters. [Joking aside, her voice suddenly takes on a slightly sharper edge. Because she's been there. Suffered too many Hollow Days in the past when there had been too little to eat and nothing seemed to fill your stomach.] You'll eat anything you can get your hands on.

[Oh, sure, he knew how difficult that was. Harsh lives, the both of them. But he wanted to keep this train of casual conversation going.]

Sometimes easiest to kill is tastiest. Other times, the harder it is to kill, the tastier it is. It's a very subjective meter.

[Casual was, in many ways, preferable. It was why she enjoyed spending time around Sokka. He wasn't like her. He didn't dwell on the hardships that he lived through like she did. And she envied him for that.]

I... think I can see that. [She spoke slowly, thinking them through as she did. For all she thinks she knows about all the types of hunger, about foods and tastes and preferences, she still finds herself surprised at times.] Sometimes something is better for the amount of effort put into it. Sometimes, you're hungry enough that anything is the tastiest food you've ever eaten.

[Maybe that goes for a lot of things.]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]