shatterverse | (no subject)

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OOC: [HI I'M BACK AND I BRING THE GIFT OF ANGST < 3 But I'll do real stuff soon, too, I promise.]

The wall is cold and solid where Sokka crouches, sitting and thinking and waiting for nothing. He's a man by the standards of his tribe and feels one, too, with his weapons of stone and bone, a necklace of the same, linen wraps and leather boots. And when the monster comes, leaping over the wall to start idle conversation that can lead to nothing good, he knows exactly what to do.

Wham!

Nothing's ever felt so good than watching that skinny, spectacled boy go flying backward off a hundred foot wall.

He's back soon enough, talking and taunting - don't talk about my sister - but they waste no time. Both have weapons and both use them skillfully. One has eons worth of dreams and training, a supernatural strength on his side. The other has very little beyond a club and a knife.

Save for hatred, and a thirst for revenge.

I wanted to know why she replaced me with you, the monster says. It's because we were both weak -- and she thought she could take care of both of us. But-- you got stronger then me.

He hates him in that moment, more than any other, more than finding his friends and family beaten and broken at the creature's feet, more than any other comment. Because this is a taunt of his wildest dream, wanting to be better, wanting to protect, and he can't tell if it is a taunt or if it's an honest observation.

But when has the monster ever been honest?

When I speak, you should listen closely. I don't lie half as often as I speak the truth.

Bullshit.

It's knees crack, the monster's, and he's down, he isn't getting up, he tells Sokka, Sokka the Warrior, how to kill him and the Warrior raises his club. But something stops him, something icy cold and strong, grabs his weapon and holds it still. It looks at him with innocent blue eyes, looks at him from a gold cage that she's reached through to stop him and begs him Don't kill the monster, don't do it, please but she can't give him a good reason why.

And he wants to argue but she walks out of the cage, away from the gold, and stands in front of him. She helps the monster up, watches impassively when it strikes at the Warrior, makes no comment when the Warrior-- no, the boy, he's smaller now, dressing up in his father's gear - when the boy starts to bleed. She lets the monster go and she waves to him, smiling fondly.

And when she turns back to the boy, her eyes are brimming with tears. Are you hurt? Let me heal you.

He tries to move away from her but his feet are stuck to the floor. His wounds disappear and it's like nothing's ever happened. She smiles and turns away from him to address the growing crowd - the monster was here but the Warrior was so kind, he let him go, he believes in her and thinks they should, too.

The boy believes no such thing, but he can't find the words to argue when those blue eyes look at him again.

Sokka wakes with a gasp, lying on his back and staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. His hands lift and he starts to rub at his face, heels of his palms pushing into his eyes, trying to force the innocent blue out of his mind.

OOC: [Based on this scene from

apharsites.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It makes no sense at all, then, while she's being flippant and teasing, for Sokka to do anything but smile and laugh and tease her in return. So that he, instead, chooses to blink at her with something akin to insult and hurt, is surprising to say the least.

"...his initials are HF," he says quietly after a moment, head bowed over his tea.

In the dim light, the scars on his temples are disturbingly clear.

"Oh," Steph says, eyes wide -- and then wider when she puts it together with the pseudo-boyfriend part.

"Oh. Shit. Sorry."

His sister -- and the -- the -- Wow.

Sokka just shakes his head, still focused on his tea. "Don't be - you didn't know."

There's no much more to say than that and it's mostly empty anyway. If she's going to feel guilty or overwhelmed, there's not too much he can say to relieve any of that.

So maybe it's a surprise when she slides off the bench, after a moment, and comes around to wrap her arms around him from behind.

Giving hugs is what best friends are for.

"Harth's an even stupider name than Sokka."

And teasing.

Sokka stiffens - but only for a moment, just out of surprise. In the next moment, he's chuckling softly and leaning back against her, hands still wrapped around his cup. "Yeah, it is. You should've heard him when he'd go on about his title - 'I am Harth, The One Who Will Lead!'"

"What a loser," Steph agrees, hugging tight for a moment before letting go, slipping into the seat next to him. "Anyone who gives themself a title might as well stick a sign on their head saying 'I suck, please mock me.'"

"... code names don't count."

Sokka closes his mouth and smirks.

There's a whole history, a story, a prophecy even behind Harth's title. It's just not important enough to be explained.

She grins at him, halfheartedly.

"... what was he trying to prove? With the ..." She waves a hand sort of vaguely at his temples, drawing her knees up and wrapping her free arm around them. "It doesn't make any sense."

Sokka's chin lifts a little, unconsciously, and he lets his gaze drift - anywhere but at Steph. "It's a brand. So people would know who'd killed me.

"...that I didn't actually die didn't really seem to bother him, in the long run."

"So not only was he an evil prick, but he wasn't even any good at it."

She wrinkles her nose, wrapping her hands around her own mug of tea and letting the warmth soak through her fingers.

"Well, I'm glad he's worlds behind you now."

"Oh, no, he was good at it," Sokka assures her quickly, gaze still elsewhere. "He beat the shit outta me and left me in a Magog Hive. Mel and some others got me out and I had two or three healers working on me for a few hours. Otherwise, yeah, I would've died.

"So he failed, but it was mostly bad planning."

Steph's gaze is back on him, wide-eyed and worried.

"...well, if he shows up here, he's getting the shit beat out of him," she mutters. "... and this guy was your sister's ... ew."

"Pseudo. It's-- complicated, but it wasn't... it..."

It's way complicated.

Sokka just shakes his head and goes back to his tea. "If he shows up here, stay far away from him," he says quietly. "You can't beat him - and that's not a challenge. Just don't, please."

"Hey." She leans over to put a hand on his for a moment. "I'm stupid, but I'm not suicidal. I promise, anyone who can take you down, I'm staying the hell away from."

He smirks a little, into his tea.

And then up a little, right at her.

"...did you just admit that I can kick your ass? Willingly? Are you feverish?"

Steph looks very shifty. "...you'll never get it in writing," she informs him. "Or where anyone else can hear."

Stupid being-worried-about-people.

"...if he shows up here, will you stay away from him?" she asks, almost as an afterthought, suddenly suspicious.

Sokka sighs at that question, obviously not pleased to hear it, and shakes his head. "Probably not, no, but I wouldn't seek him out by myself either. He has a habit of looking for me, though, which is how I know he wasn't ever in Eden. Worse, he has a habit of spying on Mel."

Steph shakes her head, leaning on her elbows on the table. "Well, okay. In that case, I'm modifying my previous promise, 'cos I'm not letting you run off on your own either.

"Fingers crossed he never shows, though."

"Well, I've never run off anywhere on my own, really," Sokka points out, smirking a little, and nods at her finger-crossing. "Yeah, definitely.

"...okay, tell me about your dreams." They had to be way better than his.

"Bleah," Steph says succinctly to that, and gets up to fetch the teapot again and refill his mug. "I've been actually sleeping okay, mostly, since we got here. Except when some big giant barbarian starts thrashing around and shouting."

Sokka scoffs, obviously insulted. "I wasn't shouting. I bet you were just being creepy and watching me sleep. Creep."

Steph's carrying a hot teapot, so of course her cheeks are a shade redder than usual.

"Hey, now you're getting me confused with Robin. It can't be that hard to tell the difference -- have you had your eyes checked lately?"

"Oh, sure, by the local optometrist. You've met him, haven't you? Dr I-Don't-Really-Exist?"

Steph smirks, tugging his hair in passing.

"Oh, that's your psychiatrist, isn't it. I know him."

"If I had a psychiatrist, I'd probably have a lot less of the creepy nightmares going on," Sokka points out, grinning as he bats her hands away from his head. "And don't take my bed if you're going back to the room!"