shatterverse | (no subject)

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This is all so far out of Katara's control!

It is probably that nobody is venturing this far from the household without a reason. Katara has a reason: her face is starting to rot off, and she hasn't been able to find anyone to drain, and she's so terribly afraid that Sokka will come back any moment and find her, and she can't avoid Toph for much longer without the other girl getting suspicious, and and and it's all so hard being a deadly killer zombie and NOBODY UNDERSTANDS HER and --

Anyone who has wandered these fields over may find a small, foul-smelling, rotting lump of girl sitting on an abandoned horsetrough and wasting precious moisture by crying.

Good luck to them.

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She smiles a little bit, ravaged face twisting hideously.

"I didn't do anything wrong, Sokka." It's patient explanation, terribly grateful for his acceptance anyway. Perfectly calm, no trace of tears now, or of sorrow. He's forgiven her, so it's okay, so there's no need to be upset any more, and anyway emotions are a bit of a waste of precious water.

(and easier to manage when you have a working circulatory system, and glands and such.)

"But you'll help me bring them back?"

"I'm going to help you."

He'd feel better if lying to her was more difficult, if it caught in his throat. But the words come out smoothly and he holds her closer.

Adoring.

Protective.

"I know you didn't meant to do anything wrong."

She never does.

His hand slides to her shoulder, to the cluster of nerves Steph taught him to find.

Her chin is on his shoulder and he closes his eyes.

The pinch is sharp and vicious, but that doesn't matter - the effect of those particular nerves being hit is unconsciousness.

... or it would be. If they were connected to anything.

Instead, the effect is that the skin he's pinched comes away in his hand, trailing stringy, dead nerves and tendons, and Katara's eyes open wide. Shock turns into understanding turns into anger, far more quickly than should be possible.

She's falling apart, but she's very strong. Skeleton-hands wrapped in soggy skin shove at his chest with enough force to hurl him back several yards.

"You're not Sokka!" she accuses, in a voice twisted by blind rage. "You hurt me!"

He goes flying.

His chest isn't burning, there was no shot of energy, she isn't holding anything in her hands, but when his shoulders hit the dirt, all Sokka can think when his head cracks against the ground is At least it isn't asphalt (http://community.livejournal.com/apharsites/51547.html?thread=2167387#t2167387).

It's not funny, before or after he hits the ground.

But he does roll fast to his feet, eyes narrowed and shoulders set but his face is no less tortured and desperate when he looks at her. "Katara..."

"You're not my brother!"

She's furious, betrayed, angry. And unstoppably strong and fast, in his face again by the time he's on his feet, shoving him again - several more yards, away from Mel and Toph, away from everyone.

"You lied to me! Sokka wouldn't have hurt me!"

This time she doesn't chase, though - she lifts up her hands instead, closing her eyes and drawing breath in deep, preparing to Bloodbend.

The air begins to dry again.

Mel hasn't moved.

She's been watching with complete detachment, feeling the realisation arrive rather than reaching for it herself - that it's Katara who's been killing those people - Sokka's sister who they brought back into the farm, invited into their home, she's the danger they've put everyone in.

And she's been standing here, unmoving, watching herself watch her Sokka confront his murderous sister face to face. She watches the thing push her brother out, and she feels the moisture vanish from her mouth.

She's sure she hasn't moved. She can't remember moving. But Sokka's in danger and the next thing she knows there's just no distance between her and them. Her hands, which were at her sides, are on the handle of her axe and the back of the blade is crunching into black hair.

Not to her family.

What a nerve pinch couldn't accomplish, an axe to the head can. Katara turns to glare at Mel,furious and bloodshot and moulting - and then topples slowly backwards.

Dry bones snap when they hit the ground, and she's sprawled and limp, but still twitching - still ... well, not quite alive, but whatever mockery of it she has been for the past week. Not moving, though, which is the important part.

Mel glares at the fallen body for a second before glancing back up at Sokka.

Her eyes are wide, but the rest of her face impassive, waiting to decide whether it needs to be apologetic or sympathetic.

Sokka is running long before his brain catches up to what he's doing.

He's there to catch the body when Katara falls.

His mouth is dry. Sokka couldn't say for certain it's because of any bending.

He gets to his feet with his sister's body in his arms, looking at her, not Mel, barely aware of Mel at all.

Mel wouldn't be, either.

She never was.

After putting the weapon away, she touches Sokka lightly on the shoulder; a reminder that she's there, an offer to do more (everything he can't), or even a question whether he wants her.

She's not even expecting a reaction from him.

Sokka swallows hard, tries to take a shaking breath and fails utterly.

"I need linen."

He addresses the touch on his shoulder. Whoever happened to put it there.

It doesn't feel like Katara in his arms. It's like a mockery of her, a doll of swamp water wrapped in fragile paper.

Twitching in his arms.

"Bedsheets."

Mel has no idea if the actual composition of the material matters or not, and she wouldn't know linen from anything else, but she stands back from him, eyes never leaving his face.

"There's some in the house."

Turning her head, she lets one of the other spectators know that she's not leaving her brother, so someone else will have to fetch it.

She's not leaving him.

A very pale Suki is still staring at the scene, trying to rationalize the events she just witnessed. Her understanding of zombie lore is pretty much non-existent. On the face of things, Mel just killed her friend. Except it appears that it wasn't really her friend. And, by the looks, it wasn't really alive.

When Mel catches her eye, she emerges from her stupor.

"I'll get them," she volunteers, her voice strangled and weak.

Being helpful is how the Kyoshi tends to deal with shocking incidents. She turns away and starts running towards the main farmhouse.

After giving the request, Sokka assumes whoever ~~Mel~~ he'd spoken to left to get the things asked for.

That's fine. That's all he needs.

He holds his sister close (don't look at her, where her skin is falling off in strips and her hair flies free with each step he takes) and starts walking.

He knows there's enough space down the road for a pyre.

Mel doesn't leave him; she can't leave him. She stays beside and a little behind him as he carries Katara, picking up the beads from her hair as they drop.

She doesn't try to reach him; she's just going to be there when he comes out.

Steph is in the main room, a toddler on each hip and a very worried expression on her face. At Suki's footsteps she spins to face the newcomer, defensive and alert.

"Suki! What is it, what's going on?"

Still ashen, Suki glances at Hana and Loo. The last thing she wants to do is alarm them, so she keeps her face as blank as she's able.

"Katara... Katara's body... wasn't Katara," she manages. "It was some kind of undead thing that looked like her. It's skin was all rotting and peeling off."

Suki is quick to finish the story, before Steph has time to freak out.

"It's okay. Mel dealt with it. Nobody is hurt."

She continues on single-mindedly, aiming for the nearest linen closet.

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