Sokka Thunderaxe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
markofthewise) wrote2013-03-11 11:54 am
markofthewise) wrote2013-03-11 11:54 am
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.]
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.]
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A pause. A shrug. "Do you two still talk?"
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Who needed to talk?
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Her tone wasn't unkind, but Buffy wasn't keen to mince her words.
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"It's tough, I guess. To show up here. To have your heart put through a wringer on top of that." There wasn't much left to do after a woman made her position clear, feelings-wise. Not much left to do but wait, really. Having made a few men wait in her time, she felt she understood that concept.
But: "I know I barely know her, this time around. But if you ever want someone to put in a good word for you..." Buffy trailed off, convinced Sokka would refuse the help. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. Surely, he didn't really want someone else pleading his case.
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"That's...very responsible of you, Sokka."
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"Thanks for the shake, Buffy. But I think I should get back to work."