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mortemscintilla) wrote2012-07-13 12:13 am
mortemscintilla) wrote2012-07-13 12:13 am
Entry tags:
IC Contact
ψ messages | ϑ text | ⊕ action
ψ messages | ϑ text | ⊕ action
[The following is delivered to Li: one fancy telescope and copies of Chekov's near-illegible notes on stars in the City. Included is a note with the following scrawled on it:]
Большое спасибо!
Большое спасибо!
[ Oh. ]
[ Suddenly recon isn't tonight's top priority. ]
[ Suddenly recon isn't tonight's top priority. ]
[ Hei's been trained as a soldier, and a soldier's bed is what he makes of it. Absorbing the too-loud thud, he's already alert, blade at ready. Silently, he edges around the doorframe. A lit lamp at the corner offers enough light. What the --? ]
[ A heartbeat too late, and he'd have attacked the stranger. But he recognizes the pitch and tone of that Fuck. ]
....Mao?
[ A heartbeat too late, and he'd have attacked the stranger. But he recognizes the pitch and tone of that Fuck. ]
....Mao?
Edited 2012-11-29 02:15 (UTC)
[There isn't much that Korra actively hates. Dislike? Sure. She dislikes sugar, dvd players, and curfews. Pisses her off? Definitely. But genuine, "I would kill you in your sleep" hatred is reserved for just a few things, like mornings.
Korra hates mornings.
You'd think the firebender in her would cancel out the waterbender's natural preference for the night and the moon, or that the removal of her bending would take it with it, but no. Even though she used to be a firebender too, even though she can't bend anymore, her energy levels are still at their lowest first thing in the morning.
You'd think low energy levels would be helpful for meditating. You'd be wrong again. It just makes her twitchy and irritable, and forcing Korra to sit still when she's twitchy and irritable is the fastest way to make her even more cranky.
She's out in the park this morning, seated with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. She looks peaceful for all of a second. Then her nose screws up in a frown. Her forehead wrinkles. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, fighting to keep them closed, but it's in vain. They burst open with such force, Korra falls onto her back. She pulls on her hair to keep from screaming.]
I HATE THIS!
Korra hates mornings.
You'd think the firebender in her would cancel out the waterbender's natural preference for the night and the moon, or that the removal of her bending would take it with it, but no. Even though she used to be a firebender too, even though she can't bend anymore, her energy levels are still at their lowest first thing in the morning.
You'd think low energy levels would be helpful for meditating. You'd be wrong again. It just makes her twitchy and irritable, and forcing Korra to sit still when she's twitchy and irritable is the fastest way to make her even more cranky.
She's out in the park this morning, seated with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. She looks peaceful for all of a second. Then her nose screws up in a frown. Her forehead wrinkles. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, fighting to keep them closed, but it's in vain. They burst open with such force, Korra falls onto her back. She pulls on her hair to keep from screaming.]
I HATE THIS!
[ Hei has never had the luxury of being a 'night' or 'morning' person. His profession never allowed the distinctions. Last to sleep, first to rise; that's always been the case with him. Assignments at home left him too wired to relax, so when he had the opportunity to pass out, he always made sure to. In a car. At a rooftop. It's the same in the City. When his body is ready to sleep, he has an internal countdown to find a place to rest. Otherwise the psychological opportunity passes and sleep becomes impossible for another 10 hours. ]
[ It's not healthy. But it's something else Heaven's War has left him with; an acceptance of How Things Are. ]
[ He's completed his early morning routine -- katas at his apartment rooftop, a brisk run at the beach, and breakfast at a cafe. Striding along in the cool air, ears plugged with headphones, he holds a wrapped bagel in one hand. The Network Device is in the other; he quietly checks entries in a series of click-click-clicks. And, pausing to bite his bagel, spots Korra. Or, rather, hears her. ]
[ Louder, kiddo. They couldn't hear you out in Guatemala. ]
[ It's not healthy. But it's something else Heaven's War has left him with; an acceptance of How Things Are. ]
[ He's completed his early morning routine -- katas at his apartment rooftop, a brisk run at the beach, and breakfast at a cafe. Striding along in the cool air, ears plugged with headphones, he holds a wrapped bagel in one hand. The Network Device is in the other; he quietly checks entries in a series of click-click-clicks. And, pausing to bite his bagel, spots Korra. Or, rather, hears her. ]
[ Louder, kiddo. They couldn't hear you out in Guatemala. ]
[Chekov likes to be sneaky. This is why, on December 28th, Li-Hei will find an unwrapped box delivered to his address with "Li" written on it. Nothing else. (The date was chosen out of indecision. Chekov is used to giving gifts on New Year's Day but knows that Christmas is more popular in the City, so he split the difference.)
In the box, should Hei open it, is a small technological device. It only has one button. If Hei pushes that button, the device will fold out into a tabletop projector that... well, projects. It projects a three-dimensional display of the universe that, using an interior touchpad, can be zoomed in and out on and rotated. It's remarkably accurate and ridiculously detailed. Better yet, another touchpad will allow Hei to view the universe at different times; he can take it all the way back to the big bang or forward to the predicted "big freeze."
There's a note--an actual paper note. The handwriting is blocky and untidy.]
Li-
This is something that I traded for on the day with the geese and eggs. I have had it since I was eight. I thought that you might like to see the stars even when it is too cold for stargazing.
[It's not signed, but really, does it need to be?]
In the box, should Hei open it, is a small technological device. It only has one button. If Hei pushes that button, the device will fold out into a tabletop projector that... well, projects. It projects a three-dimensional display of the universe that, using an interior touchpad, can be zoomed in and out on and rotated. It's remarkably accurate and ridiculously detailed. Better yet, another touchpad will allow Hei to view the universe at different times; he can take it all the way back to the big bang or forward to the predicted "big freeze."
There's a note--an actual paper note. The handwriting is blocky and untidy.]
Li-
This is something that I traded for on the day with the geese and eggs. I have had it since I was eight. I thought that you might like to see the stars even when it is too cold for stargazing.
[It's not signed, but really, does it need to be?]
[ ajdshbfyagw0q82ip3klnmakjsdbfuaew8 ]
[ SO MANY FEELS IN HIS TEENY FRIGID HEART. ]
[ Hesitation is something Hei rarely feels. But this. This. Oh, he's thrown off. Not in his usual quietly side-eyed-wary way, but in a quietly stunned way. He'll be in his room, analyzing and corresponding constellations, refreshing his Herschel 400 catalogue, for hours to come. (Wishing, suddenly, that Pai was here, so he could show her the stars, holographic but incredibly in-depth, instead of picturing her standing in a pool of blood, while the sky rained down on both their heads). ]
[ Congratulations, Pavel. You have found his red kryptonite. ]
[ SO MANY FEELS IN HIS TEENY FRIGID HEART. ]
[ Hesitation is something Hei rarely feels. But this. This. Oh, he's thrown off. Not in his usual quietly side-eyed-wary way, but in a quietly stunned way. He'll be in his room, analyzing and corresponding constellations, refreshing his Herschel 400 catalogue, for hours to come. (Wishing, suddenly, that Pai was here, so he could show her the stars, holographic but incredibly in-depth, instead of picturing her standing in a pool of blood, while the sky rained down on both their heads). ]
[ Congratulations, Pavel. You have found his red kryptonite. ]
[Naga's on the mend, which is a huge weight off Korra's shoulders. She no longer feels the need to hover, to be there if things take a turn for the worst.
And she really needs to get out. Five people, nine cats, five sheep, and two dogs are just too much to deal with. Everything feels like it's grating on her skin. She needs space, but she doesn't really want to be alone either. (She's afraid to be alone with her thoughts, though she won't admit that even to herself, and while normally she would take comfort in her bending routines, right now they remind her too strongly of what shouldn't be bothering her.
So she does something a little out of character.]
Hey. Are you free tonight?
And she really needs to get out. Five people, nine cats, five sheep, and two dogs are just too much to deal with. Everything feels like it's grating on her skin. She needs space, but she doesn't really want to be alone either. (She's afraid to be alone with her thoughts, though she won't admit that even to herself, and while normally she would take comfort in her bending routines, right now they remind her too strongly of what shouldn't be bothering her.
So she does something a little out of character.]
Hey. Are you free tonight?
[ A week of sporadic hunting has passed. Wins, losses, draws. In the pre-dawn hours, he's returned home and showered to scrub the stench off his skin. In the mirror he examines his face. A cheekbone is abraded where he'd hit the tarmac tussling with a few zombies. But he doesn't care about that triviality. He's woozy but buzzing all over with caring about too much else, so many things that he hasn't recalled since Heaven's War. He wonders when the curse will end; the destruction spreading out from the zombies is like a million subtle fingers, tainting everything it touches. ]
[ When Korra sends her message, he raises a brow but otherwise puts his issues on a mental hold. Fixing a bandaid to the cut, he asks, ]
Everything all right?
[ Because his first instinct is that she's in some kind of trouble. He knows from the Network that the past week's been a tizzy for her. ]
[ When Korra sends her message, he raises a brow but otherwise puts his issues on a mental hold. Fixing a bandaid to the cut, he asks, ]
Everything all right?
[ Because his first instinct is that she's in some kind of trouble. He knows from the Network that the past week's been a tizzy for her. ]
[She waffles about inviting him. A lot. She's come to like him and to like spending time with him (obviously), but only when they're alone. He's still bumbling stupid annoying "Li" in front of other people.
Finally, impulsively, she decides to just invite him. He probably won't come, but she doesn't want him to feel left out. (Korra, thinking about another person's feelings? How much she's grown. Though if she knew Hei a little better, or thought about it a little more, she'd realize that's the last thing he's likely to care about.)]
Some of us are dancing tonight. [insert time and location] You can come, if you want.
....bye.
Finally, impulsively, she decides to just invite him. He probably won't come, but she doesn't want him to feel left out. (Korra, thinking about another person's feelings? How much she's grown. Though if she knew Hei a little better, or thought about it a little more, she'd realize that's the last thing he's likely to care about.)]
Some of us are dancing tonight. [insert time and location] You can come, if you want.
....bye.
[ What. ]
[ The. ]
[ Shizzle? ]
[ On the one hand, Li is supposed to be one of her friends. So not showing up at the outing? Yeah, rude. You fail at friendship forever, Li. On the other hand: 'Li' is just an act, and one he's beginning to care less and less for. He's in no mood to go dancing -- what is the point, what is the purpose, what is social interaction argh send help. ]
[ He won't dance. Nope. ]
[ That's right, Frankie. Preach it. ]
[ The. ]
[ Shizzle? ]
[ On the one hand, Li is supposed to be one of her friends. So not showing up at the outing? Yeah, rude. You fail at friendship forever, Li. On the other hand: 'Li' is just an act, and one he's beginning to care less and less for. He's in no mood to go dancing -- what is the point, what is the purpose, what is social interaction argh send help. ]
[ He won't dance. Nope. ]
[ That's right, Frankie. Preach it. ]
[She hadn't meant to stop in the park. She'd been on her way home from work when a ripple of moonlight drew her gaze upwards, and she found herself stopping. Walking towards the center of the park, where she could see the moon best. Settling down on the ground, anchored to the earth. She could hear the fountain in the distance, as though the sound was carried by the cold breeze ruffling her hair.
She feels connected, both miniscule and infinite, in a way she hasn't felt since she was a child, long before the Order of the White Lotus. She remembers, in the way one remembers a dream, following a path of moonlight, to a place as foreign to the South Pole as the City is to Republic City.
There's a presence beside her. She turns her head. Oogie?
No. Appa. Like in a dream, she smiles. Reaches out her hand to pet his head.]
You're really here.
[The skybison growls a friendly welcome, and touches his nose to her forehead.
Appa, filthy, injured, tired and sick of heart, curls up in the ruins of the Eastern Air Temple. A wizened old man is with him. He speaks.
"Oh dear, you've been through so much recently. Hurt and betrayed. So twisted up inside. You're still full of love, but fear has moved in where trust should be. I've been expecting you and the young Avatar for quite a long time. I had a vision many years ago of helping him. That's why I came to the Eastern Air Temple. Oh your emotions are so turbulent, like swirling storm clouds. Let the clouds in your mind be gentle peaceful ones."
Korra closes her eyes and buries her head in Appa's fur. Gentle, peaceful clouds. That would be nice.
To anyone who passes by, it will just look like some girl has fallen asleep in the snow.]
She feels connected, both miniscule and infinite, in a way she hasn't felt since she was a child, long before the Order of the White Lotus. She remembers, in the way one remembers a dream, following a path of moonlight, to a place as foreign to the South Pole as the City is to Republic City.
There's a presence beside her. She turns her head. Oogie?
No. Appa. Like in a dream, she smiles. Reaches out her hand to pet his head.]
You're really here.
[The skybison growls a friendly welcome, and touches his nose to her forehead.
Appa, filthy, injured, tired and sick of heart, curls up in the ruins of the Eastern Air Temple. A wizened old man is with him. He speaks.
"Oh dear, you've been through so much recently. Hurt and betrayed. So twisted up inside. You're still full of love, but fear has moved in where trust should be. I've been expecting you and the young Avatar for quite a long time. I had a vision many years ago of helping him. That's why I came to the Eastern Air Temple. Oh your emotions are so turbulent, like swirling storm clouds. Let the clouds in your mind be gentle peaceful ones."
Korra closes her eyes and buries her head in Appa's fur. Gentle, peaceful clouds. That would be nice.
To anyone who passes by, it will just look like some girl has fallen asleep in the snow.]
[ The breeze blows through the park with an eerie rustle, unbroken by the sparse trees. A thick crust of snow crunches under Hei's boots as he walks by, his shadow looming on the whiteness. Above his head the half-moon hangs cool and perfect. He's just finished patrolling the Underground. But he's not tired -- the idea of returning to his apartment (a pet, he needs to get a goddamn pet) -- is off-putting. There are too many thoughts in his head, fixed like a hummingbird on a string. Ideas fluttering but with no direction. Sleep, when it comes at all, is fevery with dreams. Disturbing, gory, chilling, sexual. But nothing about Amber or Pai. Nothing about Tokyo, about Evening Primrose, or Heaven's Gate. ]
[ It's as if his sleeping mind refuses to let him off so easy; he isn't allowed to process the past events through the medium of dreams. Not that it's important here, is it? ]
[ He crosses the park with an indolence that has more to do with time-killing than cold. He doesn't mind the weather. He isn't exactly looking forward to the summer nights -- too warm for his mood, too short for his objectives. It's only in these hours, taking in the prehistoric stillness, as if he's the only person alive, that he feels settled in himself. So much space, it's a cliche. But it gives him perspective. ]
[ He's contemplating a stop-over at a 24/7 dinette, when he spots a figure in the snow. A bolt of déjà vu crackles. For a moment it's like seeing Pai after battles, lying in a pool of blood as she pays her remuneration. Except it's not Pai. It's Korra. Hei frowns, resolving to let her be. Not his problem if she's lying in the goddamn snow. But what if she's passed out or in trouble? He exhales wearily. Hands stuffed in his quilted jacket, a red scarf looped around his throat, he makes his way over to Korra. Nudges her lightly with edge of his boot, like she's a heap of roadkill left in the snow. ]
[ Not the most tender of moves. But if she's dead or drugged, he'd rather not leave fingerprints. ]
[ It's as if his sleeping mind refuses to let him off so easy; he isn't allowed to process the past events through the medium of dreams. Not that it's important here, is it? ]
[ He crosses the park with an indolence that has more to do with time-killing than cold. He doesn't mind the weather. He isn't exactly looking forward to the summer nights -- too warm for his mood, too short for his objectives. It's only in these hours, taking in the prehistoric stillness, as if he's the only person alive, that he feels settled in himself. So much space, it's a cliche. But it gives him perspective. ]
[ He's contemplating a stop-over at a 24/7 dinette, when he spots a figure in the snow. A bolt of déjà vu crackles. For a moment it's like seeing Pai after battles, lying in a pool of blood as she pays her remuneration. Except it's not Pai. It's Korra. Hei frowns, resolving to let her be. Not his problem if she's lying in the goddamn snow. But what if she's passed out or in trouble? He exhales wearily. Hands stuffed in his quilted jacket, a red scarf looped around his throat, he makes his way over to Korra. Nudges her lightly with edge of his boot, like she's a heap of roadkill left in the snow. ]
[ Not the most tender of moves. But if she's dead or drugged, he'd rather not leave fingerprints. ]
[Late in the morning, a card slides under Hei's apartment door. A musical card, no less!
At first glance, the writing will seem familiar -- the characters are quite similar to classical Chinese -- but any attempt to read it would make it seem like gibberish. He might be able to pick out a few words -- love, balance, death -- but not in any kind of context that makes sense.
Care to find a translator?]
At first glance, the writing will seem familiar -- the characters are quite similar to classical Chinese -- but any attempt to read it would make it seem like gibberish. He might be able to pick out a few words -- love, balance, death -- but not in any kind of context that makes sense.
Care to find a translator?]
[Maybe the front of the card makes him rip it up. Maybe the music -- the one thing easy to understand -- has him tossing the card in the trash. It wouldn't do him any good, though. He's not getting rid of that card any time soon.
And good luck finding a translator. There are maybe a handful of people in the City (like Uhura) who could translate something from a language they don't know. Maybe he could see if Mao could hack into the City's servers and run the same translation software the network devices do on the card.
Or he could skip the translation and go straight to see the suspected letter writer. It's his call, really.]
And good luck finding a translator. There are maybe a handful of people in the City (like Uhura) who could translate something from a language they don't know. Maybe he could see if Mao could hack into the City's servers and run the same translation software the network devices do on the card.
Or he could skip the translation and go straight to see the suspected letter writer. It's his call, really.]
[Chekov has had time to think about his conversation with Korra. Thinking, unfortunately, has led him to the conclusion that Hei treated her very poorly and needs to have his misdeeds spelled out. At the very least, he has some explaining to do. Being a secretive assassin isn't a catchall excuse for bad behavior.
The Russian may be more familiar with Hei's schedule than Hei suspects. This may make it relatively easy for Pavel to find Hei on Monday evening when he can no longer bring himself to stay out of business that isn't his.]
Li, do you have a moment?
[They're out in public. It seems safest to use that alias.]
The Russian may be more familiar with Hei's schedule than Hei suspects. This may make it relatively easy for Pavel to find Hei on Monday evening when he can no longer bring himself to stay out of business that isn't his.]
Li, do you have a moment?
[They're out in public. It seems safest to use that alias.]
[ (Is it really bad behavior when he suspects Korra is developing an attachment to a killer, and resolves that it's best nipped in the bud? He's no expert in the area of dropping bad habits, but sometimes a sharp swat (literal, metaphorical) is more effective than Using Your Words. ) ]
[ (That's his justification for splitting ways with her, anyway. He's sticking to it.) ]
[ He's just shut up Cafe Satine when Hei sees Pavel approach. He's in one of those baggy green hoodies, patched at the elbows, carrying a small, paper crate that holds two takeaway cups from the cafe. (One coffee, one tea -- employee discount.) Since there are bystanders around, he slips easily into 'Li's mannerisms, dilating his eyes attentively, ]
Sure. Um, what's on your mind?
[ Although he has his suspicions. ]
[ (That's his justification for splitting ways with her, anyway. He's sticking to it.) ]
[ He's just shut up Cafe Satine when Hei sees Pavel approach. He's in one of those baggy green hoodies, patched at the elbows, carrying a small, paper crate that holds two takeaway cups from the cafe. (One coffee, one tea -- employee discount.) Since there are bystanders around, he slips easily into 'Li's mannerisms, dilating his eyes attentively, ]
Sure. Um, what's on your mind?
[ Although he has his suspicions. ]
Edited 2013-02-19 01:32 (UTC)
[Korra shivers a little as she's hit with a cold evening breeze. One of the nurses had offered her a top to cover her bloody undershirt, but it provides little protection from the chill. They had told her to go home, that the police would be by to question her later, but Korra couldn't stand the thought of walking past that bloody patch of sand. All she really wants to do is stay near Chekov, but Uhura wouldn't let her, and honestly, Korra can't blame the older woman.
She should call Tohru or Bei Fong, tell them what happened, ask them to take care of Jinora. But she left her device at home and she can't bring herself to move or care.
She's curled up on the roof of the hospital, just by the door where she can catch the sound of announcements, just in case they mention anything about Chekov. She doesn't mind the cold. It suits the numbness that has settled over her body, leeching into her bones.]
She should call Tohru or Bei Fong, tell them what happened, ask them to take care of Jinora. But she left her device at home and she can't bring herself to move or care.
She's curled up on the roof of the hospital, just by the door where she can catch the sound of announcements, just in case they mention anything about Chekov. She doesn't mind the cold. It suits the numbness that has settled over her body, leeching into her bones.]
[ (The cameras he'd installed at Korra's place offered quite a show. The fight between her and Pavel. The unexpected coup de grace. The frenzied dash to the hospital.) He'd tracked Korra's progress up to a certain point. Resolved, privately, to stay away rather than drop by to check on her and Pavel. The worst had already happened, after all. Except... ]
[ Except it's better to be sure. ]
[ A year ago, he wouldn't have bothered. Not his business; nothing of benefit for him. But the City's rhythms and rituals, too subtle to appreciate at first, have steeped quietly into him over the months. It's the same case with Korra and Pavel. They've grown on him, infected him with their humanity. After a few hours of putting it off, he's swung by the hospital to inquire on Pavel's condition. Satisfied he's in capable hands, Hei almost exits -- only to hang back and look for Korra. ]
[ Ascending from the crowded frenetic emergency department to the somber silence of the cancer ward, he finds her where he'd half-predicted: on the rooftop. She seems bleary, disheveled and beaten-down. Hei has his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat as he drifts quietly through the door, his chin hunkered down into his collar. He doesn't speak to her. Doesn't draw any attention to himself. ]
[ He just watches her. ]
[ Except it's better to be sure. ]
[ A year ago, he wouldn't have bothered. Not his business; nothing of benefit for him. But the City's rhythms and rituals, too subtle to appreciate at first, have steeped quietly into him over the months. It's the same case with Korra and Pavel. They've grown on him, infected him with their humanity. After a few hours of putting it off, he's swung by the hospital to inquire on Pavel's condition. Satisfied he's in capable hands, Hei almost exits -- only to hang back and look for Korra. ]
[ Ascending from the crowded frenetic emergency department to the somber silence of the cancer ward, he finds her where he'd half-predicted: on the rooftop. She seems bleary, disheveled and beaten-down. Hei has his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat as he drifts quietly through the door, his chin hunkered down into his collar. He doesn't speak to her. Doesn't draw any attention to himself. ]
[ He just watches her. ]
[Korra feels like this night is never going to end.
She's been trying, since talking with Chekov, to reign in her temper. She's gotten pretty rough with customers in the past, shoving and kicking and punching on occasion. Stopping that, trying to maintain control without resorting to violence. It's a lot harder than she thought it would be. And like airbending, the harder she tries, the more difficult it becomes. It's done her temper no favors.
Three more hours, one of the girls tells her as she comes off her shift. Korra almost groans with frustration, making the girl laugh. Honey, you need a break.
Yeah. A break. That'd be great.]
She's been trying, since talking with Chekov, to reign in her temper. She's gotten pretty rough with customers in the past, shoving and kicking and punching on occasion. Stopping that, trying to maintain control without resorting to violence. It's a lot harder than she thought it would be. And like airbending, the harder she tries, the more difficult it becomes. It's done her temper no favors.
Three more hours, one of the girls tells her as she comes off her shift. Korra almost groans with frustration, making the girl laugh. Honey, you need a break.
Yeah. A break. That'd be great.]
[ Hei's at the deep end of the bar, in the crowded dark lounge. His contact for tonight, a chalky-faced guy with a goatee and a bald tattooed head, sits to his left. Like most of the eclectic Underground set, he wears designer shades after sunset. Must be a hacker thing. He's discreetly passed a small package to Hei under the table. An AC adapter fitted with a tiny camera and built in DVR. Handy addition to monitor his safehouses while Hei's Topside. The air is thick with tobacco smoke; the only light glows from behind the rows of bottles on the barshelves. There's a mirror near the array that reflects the rest of the room perfectly. ]
[ It's why Hei picked this spot. ]
[ He glimpses Korra from the corner of his eye. She's almost bristling with pent-up annoyance. Or is it ornery arousal? (No, he suspects he's projecting the latter.) Truth is, this is really not the time for his body to be wanting what it wants. She sparks that familiar itch under his skin, but he's not here for playtime. It's also unlikely she'll be up for a one-sided quickie in the bathroom or the alley. A regular barfly maybe. But not Korra. ]
[ Hei's half-considering the benefits of diluting the itch with another woman. The one to his right, a cigarette in one slim hand, the other wrapped around a beerglass, her red mouth curled at something the hacker is saying, isn't bad. She'd introduced herself earlier as the poor bastard's date. Hei may have missed the memo, but he's positive you don't greet your date's clients with a pretentious cheek-kiss that ends with your tongue in their ear. ]
[ You don't play footsie with them under the table either. ]
[ It's why Hei picked this spot. ]
[ He glimpses Korra from the corner of his eye. She's almost bristling with pent-up annoyance. Or is it ornery arousal? (No, he suspects he's projecting the latter.) Truth is, this is really not the time for his body to be wanting what it wants. She sparks that familiar itch under his skin, but he's not here for playtime. It's also unlikely she'll be up for a one-sided quickie in the bathroom or the alley. A regular barfly maybe. But not Korra. ]
[ Hei's half-considering the benefits of diluting the itch with another woman. The one to his right, a cigarette in one slim hand, the other wrapped around a beerglass, her red mouth curled at something the hacker is saying, isn't bad. She'd introduced herself earlier as the poor bastard's date. Hei may have missed the memo, but he's positive you don't greet your date's clients with a pretentious cheek-kiss that ends with your tongue in their ear. ]
[ You don't play footsie with them under the table either. ]
[If Korra had put a little thought into this, she would have asked one of Hei's coworkers when his shift was over and swung by to catch him then. But she's pissed off and not thinking clearly and so when she gets off of work Friday night/Saturday morning, she swings by the closed Cafe Santine --
And sits there. That monkey feathered jerkface has to come to work sometime.
A week. A whole WEEK and no word from him. Under normal circumstances? Not a problem. She's not the kind of person who has to talk every day or she feels neglected. But when you disappear after being chased out of a haunted house by ghosts who're angry you had sex there, Korra feels like you should check in and say "Hey, I'm not dead."
Up until Wednesday, she had been worried. She'd tried to find him in the Underground, at his apartment, and at work, but he was nowhere. And then he showed up in her dreams on Wednesday, stumbling in because of a curse, and it's great to know he's alive but it's still not an explanation. What happened on Friday? Where did he go? Why didn't he contact her?
She's curled up on the ground, leaning her back against the cafe wall, trying not to think too hard because then anger will turn into insecurity and she'd rather be pissed off with him than wondering why she's good enough for sex but not for a simple "hello."]
And sits there. That monkey feathered jerkface has to come to work sometime.
A week. A whole WEEK and no word from him. Under normal circumstances? Not a problem. She's not the kind of person who has to talk every day or she feels neglected. But when you disappear after being chased out of a haunted house by ghosts who're angry you had sex there, Korra feels like you should check in and say "Hey, I'm not dead."
Up until Wednesday, she had been worried. She'd tried to find him in the Underground, at his apartment, and at work, but he was nowhere. And then he showed up in her dreams on Wednesday, stumbling in because of a curse, and it's great to know he's alive but it's still not an explanation. What happened on Friday? Where did he go? Why didn't he contact her?
She's curled up on the ground, leaning her back against the cafe wall, trying not to think too hard because then anger will turn into insecurity and she'd rather be pissed off with him than wondering why she's good enough for sex but not for a simple "hello."]
⊕ wee, wee hours of saturday morning - this won't end well
mortemscintilla
2013-04-12 02:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The nightmares don't stop. He'd given up a full night's sleep years ago. Now he doesn't even bother to try. Waking moments are even trickier. Even with his eyes open, walking through the cool empty sidewalks to the cafe, they are here. So he's alone and never alone. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees them one at a time -- emptied child-whores, bleeding hustlers, mangled club-dancers, decapitated barmaids and charred tweenies. One by one they appear beside him, floating just imperceptibly above the sidewalk. None of them ever says anything, but their stares are lividly eloquent. ]
[ Scowling, Hei turns off the main street and stomps through the dead leaves on the sidewalk, relishing their crackle under his shoes. The sky is just starting to lighten to a calm blue, and the day seems manageable. He can stave off the -- not the guilt, he's not built for overwhelming capacities of it -- but the restlessness. Because even with the curse over, that Iceman inside him is wide awake. Two days of pure freedom, and he's roused and revving, louder and louder the more deeply Hei shoves him down. That lethal aspect of him won't just go dormant, not when it's been in the ascendency for so long. ]
[ It can't be boxed off. It is him. It does his thinking, just as much as any other part of him. No, a cold sneer intrudes. More. ]
[ Rounding the corner, Hei stops short. Korra is there, slumped like a lost cat on the steps. What the hell is she doing here? He's avoided her since the dream curse. Hadn't imagined, privately, that she'd want to see him. He figured the emotional exposure -- the gaping tear in her psyche -- would make her defensive. Unless, of course, she's here to yell at him about something else. (His disappearance and her potential worry doesn't even occur to him. He's 'gone dark' on assignments so many times. Never been questioned outside of potential jeopardy to missions. He's not a normal boy meant to check in with a girlfriend, after all.) ]
[ Whatever it is, get it over with. Repressing an eyeroll, he steps into view. ] What are you doing here?
[ Scowling, Hei turns off the main street and stomps through the dead leaves on the sidewalk, relishing their crackle under his shoes. The sky is just starting to lighten to a calm blue, and the day seems manageable. He can stave off the -- not the guilt, he's not built for overwhelming capacities of it -- but the restlessness. Because even with the curse over, that Iceman inside him is wide awake. Two days of pure freedom, and he's roused and revving, louder and louder the more deeply Hei shoves him down. That lethal aspect of him won't just go dormant, not when it's been in the ascendency for so long. ]
[ It can't be boxed off. It is him. It does his thinking, just as much as any other part of him. No, a cold sneer intrudes. More. ]
[ Rounding the corner, Hei stops short. Korra is there, slumped like a lost cat on the steps. What the hell is she doing here? He's avoided her since the dream curse. Hadn't imagined, privately, that she'd want to see him. He figured the emotional exposure -- the gaping tear in her psyche -- would make her defensive. Unless, of course, she's here to yell at him about something else. (His disappearance and her potential worry doesn't even occur to him. He's 'gone dark' on assignments so many times. Never been questioned outside of potential jeopardy to missions. He's not a normal boy meant to check in with a girlfriend, after all.) ]
[ Whatever it is, get it over with. Repressing an eyeroll, he steps into view. ] What are you doing here?
[At first, knowing Hei had cameras in her room was really weird. She felt stiff and awkward whenever she went in, like an animal in a zoo, and for a few days, she spent as little time in her bedroom as possible.
It doesn't take her long to adjust to the idea, though. It's not like she spends tons of time in her room anyway, and Chekov seemed perfectly comfortable with having Hei spy on him. If Chekov doesn't care, why should she? Besides, it's not like Hei's broadcasting it to the entire City. The only one watching it is him.
She gets home from work Wednesday night in the wee hours of the night and quietly slips into her bedroom. No need to turn on any lights; moonlight pours through her window, making the room almost as bright as day. She opens her closet door, pulls off her top to get into her nightshirt --
And stops. He could be watching. The thought doesn't bring dread, but a strange kind of thrill. Tired enough to be impulsive and too keyed up for sleep, she finishes stripping and instead of her plain night shirt, she slips into one of the lingerie sets. Silky and scratchy, it hugs her body in unfamiliar ways. She bites her lip, takes a breath, and lies down on her bed. Slowly, hesitantly, she begins rubbing herself through the thin fabric of her underwear.
She doesn't know where his cameras are. Doesn't know how well they can record with only moonlight. And she's not exactly happy with him anyway, considering his behavior during the picture curse. But this isn't for him anyway. She doesn't care if he can actually see her; what matters is the idea that he could. She's pleasuring herself and he is completely unable to take control from her. Slowing down, speeding up, changing where she touches -- it's all her, and he can look but he can't control it. The feeling of power, imagining his frustration, adds an extra heat.
It doesn't take long for her to come, covering her mouth and trying to choke back a scream. The bliss of the unusually powerful orgasm is kind of ruined, though, by the fear that she's woken someone up. Her housemates are both light sleepers. She scrambles under the covers and tugs them over her head, trying to catch her breath and pretend that she's asleep in case anyone comes in to ask about the noise. (Sometimes she really hates being a screamer.)
Hope you enjoyed the show.]
It doesn't take her long to adjust to the idea, though. It's not like she spends tons of time in her room anyway, and Chekov seemed perfectly comfortable with having Hei spy on him. If Chekov doesn't care, why should she? Besides, it's not like Hei's broadcasting it to the entire City. The only one watching it is him.
She gets home from work Wednesday night in the wee hours of the night and quietly slips into her bedroom. No need to turn on any lights; moonlight pours through her window, making the room almost as bright as day. She opens her closet door, pulls off her top to get into her nightshirt --
And stops. He could be watching. The thought doesn't bring dread, but a strange kind of thrill. Tired enough to be impulsive and too keyed up for sleep, she finishes stripping and instead of her plain night shirt, she slips into one of the lingerie sets. Silky and scratchy, it hugs her body in unfamiliar ways. She bites her lip, takes a breath, and lies down on her bed. Slowly, hesitantly, she begins rubbing herself through the thin fabric of her underwear.
She doesn't know where his cameras are. Doesn't know how well they can record with only moonlight. And she's not exactly happy with him anyway, considering his behavior during the picture curse. But this isn't for him anyway. She doesn't care if he can actually see her; what matters is the idea that he could. She's pleasuring herself and he is completely unable to take control from her. Slowing down, speeding up, changing where she touches -- it's all her, and he can look but he can't control it. The feeling of power, imagining his frustration, adds an extra heat.
It doesn't take long for her to come, covering her mouth and trying to choke back a scream. The bliss of the unusually powerful orgasm is kind of ruined, though, by the fear that she's woken someone up. Her housemates are both light sleepers. She scrambles under the covers and tugs them over her head, trying to catch her breath and pretend that she's asleep in case anyone comes in to ask about the noise. (Sometimes she really hates being a screamer.)
Hope you enjoyed the show.]
[ Hei has retreated to spend the night at his safe-house. A row of monitors occupy the corner wall -- hooked up to display realtime feed of different locations. Pavel's place. Korra's Beach House. Hei's Topside apartment. The access points of his safe-houses. Various rooms. Various angles. The cameras are fitted with IR illuminators, for night-vision. He's left the audio on -- white-noise to ignore the ticking. Seated crosslegged on a couch, Hei's halfway through fieldstripping a weapon -- (in retrospect, a bad idea to leave it lying around, but the safe-house is secure. Surely he can relax his paranoia by a degree?) -- when he glances, idly, at the feed in Korra's room. ]
[ And freezes. ]
[ The special filters of his cameras cast an eerie green color on her body. She's in, not her usual nightwear but a two-piece lingerie set. White, all lace and wisps, from the collection he'd sent her. From Hei's vantage, in the strange light, the material glows like white fire on her dark skin. He watches her slip into bed, with the tentativeness of sinking into a hot bath. Watches her lie there, perfect and picturesque in the two-piece, like a sun-bather. Moon-bather. ]
[ Then she touches herself. ]
[ Well. Fuck. ]
[ And freezes. ]
[ The special filters of his cameras cast an eerie green color on her body. She's in, not her usual nightwear but a two-piece lingerie set. White, all lace and wisps, from the collection he'd sent her. From Hei's vantage, in the strange light, the material glows like white fire on her dark skin. He watches her slip into bed, with the tentativeness of sinking into a hot bath. Watches her lie there, perfect and picturesque in the two-piece, like a sun-bather. Moon-bather. ]
[ Then she touches herself. ]
[ Well. Fuck. ]
[FREEDOM. SWEET, SWEET FREEDOM. Korra hadn't properly appreciated how trapt she felt at the Beach House until she was finally allowed -- cane and all -- to leave without supervision. Even in the dense crowds of the city proper, she finds herself breathing easier. Catching the excitement in the air, she stays out later than she had intended to, and she detours through Xanadu. Somebody hands her a drink and, even knowing it's bad idea, she drinks it. The sweetness makes her gag, but she doesn't care. A warm glow suffuses her entire body.
Happiness. Pure, genuine, unequivocal happiness, no twinges of pain or grief. She can't remember the last time she felt it. It's so remarkable, she has to sit down. And then she has to laugh. Long and loud and joyfully. Happy. She's actually happy.
(She's not stupid, of course. She knows it's the drink. She just doesn't care.)
I should call him. She's barely spoken to Hei all month -- between the effort involved in her physical therapy and the return of her friends and then the abrupt loss of Jinora and Asami, she hasn't had the time or energy to deal with him, or even think about him beyond a dim gratitude that he wasn't around making things even more complicated.
At this moment, though, she finds she wants to see him. She pulls out her device and starts recording video.]
[ video ]
Hi. [And then she starts giggling because she has no idea what to say.]
Happiness. Pure, genuine, unequivocal happiness, no twinges of pain or grief. She can't remember the last time she felt it. It's so remarkable, she has to sit down. And then she has to laugh. Long and loud and joyfully. Happy. She's actually happy.
(She's not stupid, of course. She knows it's the drink. She just doesn't care.)
I should call him. She's barely spoken to Hei all month -- between the effort involved in her physical therapy and the return of her friends and then the abrupt loss of Jinora and Asami, she hasn't had the time or energy to deal with him, or even think about him beyond a dim gratitude that he wasn't around making things even more complicated.
At this moment, though, she finds she wants to see him. She pulls out her device and starts recording video.]
[ video ]
Hi. [And then she starts giggling because she has no idea what to say.]
[ He's so tired. ]
[ Despite the chaos tearing through the City, he finds himself succumbing to a strange lethargy -- and, to be honest, an odorless, pervasive smog of boredom. Work carries on as always, with 'Li' operating on gormless, smiling stand-by, like an automaton or a lifesized model of Bozo the Clown. BK201's excursions to the Underground continue, but there's a coat of grungy repetition crusting each scuffle, each victory or defeat. The Anonymous rebellion carries on making waves in the form of heated discussions, pockets of unrest, and the latest colorful crush of circus-folk Topside. But in its essential energy the City is immutable, much like Hei's ennui. ]
[ Two hours ago, having returned from work and letting his knapsack fall with a thud at the table -- knives, wires and all -- Hei finds himself soaking in the bath. He's bathed, in the last three days, nine times. Vaguely, he gets the sense that it isn't the fug of the outdoors he wants to wash off, but something else, something not susceptible to lashings of hot water. But he doesn't read too deeply into it. He feels as if he's turned into the worst sort of navel-gazer these few months, overanalyzing every angle from an emotional rather than a pragmatic standpoint, where in the past he could act with the cold rationality of a killer-cyborg. Or so it seems now. ]
[ (Truth is, he's been awfully pensive these few weeks, miserable for no apparent reason, suffering fits of paranoia, dreaming of past traumas he thought he'd gotten the fuck over. He, who could once disarm a storm of opponents in the wink of an eye, he seems to be turning into a spineless milksop who'd rather stay ensconced in the kitchen, cooking and hiding from life, rather than out grabbing it by the balls.) ]
[ You've gone soft, he thinks, as he turns the hot tap with his toes. At the edge of the tub, his Network device blinks, broadcasting Korra's number. Hei lifts a streaming hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, and thinks, Exhibit A. ]
[ Reluctantly, he reaches to switch the device on. He doesn't bother reverting to audio. He's undressed, but it's nothing she hasn't seen before. Anyway, the lens only shows him from neck-up. Korra's Hi and her lilting giggles reverberate off the steamy acoustics of the bathroom. Hei can't help but think how flat and tepid his own voice sounds in comparison. ]
What is it?
[ Excuse the bite in his tone, Korra. Long day, that's all. ]
[ Despite the chaos tearing through the City, he finds himself succumbing to a strange lethargy -- and, to be honest, an odorless, pervasive smog of boredom. Work carries on as always, with 'Li' operating on gormless, smiling stand-by, like an automaton or a lifesized model of Bozo the Clown. BK201's excursions to the Underground continue, but there's a coat of grungy repetition crusting each scuffle, each victory or defeat. The Anonymous rebellion carries on making waves in the form of heated discussions, pockets of unrest, and the latest colorful crush of circus-folk Topside. But in its essential energy the City is immutable, much like Hei's ennui. ]
[ Two hours ago, having returned from work and letting his knapsack fall with a thud at the table -- knives, wires and all -- Hei finds himself soaking in the bath. He's bathed, in the last three days, nine times. Vaguely, he gets the sense that it isn't the fug of the outdoors he wants to wash off, but something else, something not susceptible to lashings of hot water. But he doesn't read too deeply into it. He feels as if he's turned into the worst sort of navel-gazer these few months, overanalyzing every angle from an emotional rather than a pragmatic standpoint, where in the past he could act with the cold rationality of a killer-cyborg. Or so it seems now. ]
[ (Truth is, he's been awfully pensive these few weeks, miserable for no apparent reason, suffering fits of paranoia, dreaming of past traumas he thought he'd gotten the fuck over. He, who could once disarm a storm of opponents in the wink of an eye, he seems to be turning into a spineless milksop who'd rather stay ensconced in the kitchen, cooking and hiding from life, rather than out grabbing it by the balls.) ]
[ You've gone soft, he thinks, as he turns the hot tap with his toes. At the edge of the tub, his Network device blinks, broadcasting Korra's number. Hei lifts a streaming hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, and thinks, Exhibit A. ]
[ Reluctantly, he reaches to switch the device on. He doesn't bother reverting to audio. He's undressed, but it's nothing she hasn't seen before. Anyway, the lens only shows him from neck-up. Korra's Hi and her lilting giggles reverberate off the steamy acoustics of the bathroom. Hei can't help but think how flat and tepid his own voice sounds in comparison. ]
What is it?
[ Excuse the bite in his tone, Korra. Long day, that's all. ]
[Oh. Well. This is great. That time of the month must be fast approaching because Korra's hormones are going completely out of whack. (Or maybe it's just the stress of recent events, trying to find release.) She's so turned on, she can hardly see straight, much less function like a normal person. She goes to work at the Welcome Center, but sitting in her seat at the computer for hours on end is pure torture. Attempts to squirm and discreetly grind against her chair do less than nothing to relieve her.
Damn it.
She tells Penny she's going on a lunch break and heads over to Cafe Santine. If Hei's not working today, she's pretty sure she's going to explode.]
Damn it.
She tells Penny she's going on a lunch break and heads over to Cafe Santine. If Hei's not working today, she's pretty sure she's going to explode.]
[ It's just after rush-hour at the Cafe. ]
[ Bouncy pop-music still booms from the speakers, but the tables -- once strewn with coffee cups and dotted with noisy customers -- are being cleared. In the back, there's no more chirping of baristas mingling with the dictatorial or coaxing voices of the managers. In the kitchen, a whirlwind is settling. With the final order finished, 'Li' can wipe his brow and set the brimming trays of pastries aside. He's grown used to the controlled chaos of restaurants. But sometimes a particular impatience builds up in him, and he just wants out. Before Pai arrived, he'd meant to tell Ginny that he planned to quit. But he'd put it off day by day, convinced that, without the Cafe to go to, he was capable of passing weeks without speaking to anyone. ]
[ That cloud of ennui, thankfully, has lifted. But sometimes the impatience still flares, a low-level simmering. ]
[ On his break, Hei settles on a bench outside, and opens his knapsack. He keeps a dog-eared paperback of I, Robot there because it's easy to open it at any page, at any time, and be transported. ]
[ Bouncy pop-music still booms from the speakers, but the tables -- once strewn with coffee cups and dotted with noisy customers -- are being cleared. In the back, there's no more chirping of baristas mingling with the dictatorial or coaxing voices of the managers. In the kitchen, a whirlwind is settling. With the final order finished, 'Li' can wipe his brow and set the brimming trays of pastries aside. He's grown used to the controlled chaos of restaurants. But sometimes a particular impatience builds up in him, and he just wants out. Before Pai arrived, he'd meant to tell Ginny that he planned to quit. But he'd put it off day by day, convinced that, without the Cafe to go to, he was capable of passing weeks without speaking to anyone. ]
[ That cloud of ennui, thankfully, has lifted. But sometimes the impatience still flares, a low-level simmering. ]
[ On his break, Hei settles on a bench outside, and opens his knapsack. He keeps a dog-eared paperback of I, Robot there because it's easy to open it at any page, at any time, and be transported. ]
[It feels weird, coming back to the prison so soon after being released. A part of her feels queasy, like she's being locked up again, but she's not. She's just coming here to visit Hei. (Maybe you should've just sent him a message. Except she hates the stupid network devices and how she can never remember how to use the filters right. It's just easier to go in person.)]
[ He thinks about Korra, sometimes. ]
[ In the mornings, when he wakes; never when he sleeps. Hei has always been an early riser, always preferred to have a solitary bed -- unless it was Pai sharing it. Or Yin. There's so few others he'd trust to stay so close. But maybe those few instances he's spent the night with Korra have seeped into his muscle memory. It's not loneliness he feels, because Hei isn't programmed like that. But he thinks about her in those slipsteam seconds when his eyes flutter open. It's the way his teenaged self would come to in the morning, have a few moment's peace in a thin pallet before the alarms started ringing and the world slammed down on him again -- the war, the artillery, the first-aid supplies, anxiety about the state of the team, and how he could keep Pai safe if nightly attacks worsened, and whether he dared to head to town for extra rations in the evening with Amber. ]
[ He'd lie there in the cold gloomy tent, willing himself not to touch his morning erection, thinking of schemes, bargaining with a God he didn't believe in. ]
[ It's the same sensation now, but different. Trapped, frustrated, alternately bored or overstymied. He tries to pace it off. Ten steps square. Ten steps square. Ten steps square. The air smells of dampness and dust, with an undertone of mildew. The other cells are empty. A faint stink of antiseptic hangs over everything. Surfaces clammy, rickety, charmless. Nothing like the Syndicate, but if it didn't reek of those bastards, it certainly felt like their sort of environment. ]
[ Hearing the shuffle of footsteps and a creak of barred doors, Hei glances up listlessly. A new prisoner? Or a visitor? ]
[ In the mornings, when he wakes; never when he sleeps. Hei has always been an early riser, always preferred to have a solitary bed -- unless it was Pai sharing it. Or Yin. There's so few others he'd trust to stay so close. But maybe those few instances he's spent the night with Korra have seeped into his muscle memory. It's not loneliness he feels, because Hei isn't programmed like that. But he thinks about her in those slipsteam seconds when his eyes flutter open. It's the way his teenaged self would come to in the morning, have a few moment's peace in a thin pallet before the alarms started ringing and the world slammed down on him again -- the war, the artillery, the first-aid supplies, anxiety about the state of the team, and how he could keep Pai safe if nightly attacks worsened, and whether he dared to head to town for extra rations in the evening with Amber. ]
[ He'd lie there in the cold gloomy tent, willing himself not to touch his morning erection, thinking of schemes, bargaining with a God he didn't believe in. ]
[ It's the same sensation now, but different. Trapped, frustrated, alternately bored or overstymied. He tries to pace it off. Ten steps square. Ten steps square. Ten steps square. The air smells of dampness and dust, with an undertone of mildew. The other cells are empty. A faint stink of antiseptic hangs over everything. Surfaces clammy, rickety, charmless. Nothing like the Syndicate, but if it didn't reek of those bastards, it certainly felt like their sort of environment. ]
[ Hearing the shuffle of footsteps and a creak of barred doors, Hei glances up listlessly. A new prisoner? Or a visitor? ]
Edited 2013-09-07 04:29 (UTC)
[It's fairly late in the afternoon when Pai finally makes it to prison for her daily visit to her brother. (It turns out that it's hard to move with utmost efficiency when you're cursed.)]
Brother.
Brother.
[ He's slipped from a deep meditation into an almost comatose relaxation. Then, dizzying sleep. (His sifu back in South America would be so embarrassed for him). In the next cell, a new prisoner sings drunkenly. Over that incoherent warbling, the main door creaks. Hei's eyes flutter open; his bad dream skitters away like a mouse into a corner. He rolls over in the bunk, his hair tangling over his eyes, settling against a cooler spot on the pillow. In the tiny frosted window, evening is a red hint. ]
[ Outside his cell, he hears familiar footsteps. Pai. At once, alertness resurges, tailed by a keen sense of relief. Slipping off the bunk, he crosses over to the bars, just as Pai approaches. His smile is soft. ]
Well. At least you aren't a cat. [ He was concerned she'd be hit with a curse this weekend; something hideous or painful. But she seems fine. (On the surface.) ]
[ Outside his cell, he hears familiar footsteps. Pai. At once, alertness resurges, tailed by a keen sense of relief. Slipping off the bunk, he crosses over to the bars, just as Pai approaches. His smile is soft. ]
Well. At least you aren't a cat. [ He was concerned she'd be hit with a curse this weekend; something hideous or painful. But she seems fine. (On the surface.) ]
[Korra's not a fast reader, but in the past 24 hours she's read The Avatar and the Firelord cover to cover three times. Soaking in every word, every detail, every reminder of home. She doesn't know how it will help her get in touch with her Avatar spirit yet, but that doesn't yet bother her. Her heart's too full.
Her stomach is not. It grumbles loud complaint at how she's been treating it.]
Fine, fine, I'll feed you.
[She heads down to the kitchen, but the cupboard is basically empty.]
Hey Mako! We need to groceries! [No response.] Mako?
[Evidently he's not home. Okay then. Her stomach grumbles again, and she makes a face at the idea of going out, getting groceries, and then coming home and making food.
........ maybe...]
Her stomach is not. It grumbles loud complaint at how she's been treating it.]
Fine, fine, I'll feed you.
[She heads down to the kitchen, but the cupboard is basically empty.]
Hey Mako! We need to groceries! [No response.] Mako?
[Evidently he's not home. Okay then. Her stomach grumbles again, and she makes a face at the idea of going out, getting groceries, and then coming home and making food.
........ maybe...]
[It takes Korra a few days to work through her feelings: anger, hurt, guilt, insecurity. It wasn't just the fight with Chekov that had upset her, or Hei -- the simple fact of seeing Marie had rattled Korra to her core. Her shoulder and thigh kept aching, phantom pains that were nonetheless real. She felt untethered and lost, like she was being blown about by the wind. And following her constantly were Hei's words: Avatar Korra.
Figures that the first person to use her full title in over a year is a guy who doesn't believe in the Avatar, doesn't even understand what it means, and is lecturing her. Maybe that's what being the Avatar really means -- getting lectured ALL THE TIME.
Her only comfort is The Avatar and the Fire Lord. She reads it every night...although it's not so much reading as it is skimming the characters and remembering the story. Still, with each reading, she picks up something new, and Avatar Roku becomes more real to her. Not just one of her past lives, not just a great figure in history, but a human being, with a human's failings.
I need to apologize is her first thought that morning, waking up from a dream she doesn't remember except that for once it wasn't a nightmare. It's not so much that she feels sorry for what she did -- she's clear-headed enough to understand why she behaved that way, and, honestly, she doesn't think she actually did anything wrong. She needs to apologize not as an act of contrition, but as a way to rebuild bridges.
Her first apology is to Hei. Not because he deserves it more, but because he's an asshole and it will go quicker. Chekov is going to want to talk about what happened, and about feelings, and try to understand what Korra doesn't fully understand herself. She doesn't feel up for that yet.
She swings by Cafe Santine as it's closing and hangs around outside, waiting for Hei to come out.]
Figures that the first person to use her full title in over a year is a guy who doesn't believe in the Avatar, doesn't even understand what it means, and is lecturing her. Maybe that's what being the Avatar really means -- getting lectured ALL THE TIME.
Her only comfort is The Avatar and the Fire Lord. She reads it every night...although it's not so much reading as it is skimming the characters and remembering the story. Still, with each reading, she picks up something new, and Avatar Roku becomes more real to her. Not just one of her past lives, not just a great figure in history, but a human being, with a human's failings.
I need to apologize is her first thought that morning, waking up from a dream she doesn't remember except that for once it wasn't a nightmare. It's not so much that she feels sorry for what she did -- she's clear-headed enough to understand why she behaved that way, and, honestly, she doesn't think she actually did anything wrong. She needs to apologize not as an act of contrition, but as a way to rebuild bridges.
Her first apology is to Hei. Not because he deserves it more, but because he's an asshole and it will go quicker. Chekov is going to want to talk about what happened, and about feelings, and try to understand what Korra doesn't fully understand herself. She doesn't feel up for that yet.
She swings by Cafe Santine as it's closing and hangs around outside, waiting for Hei to come out.]
[ Hei, on his part, has put the entire mess out of his mind. ]
[ There's enough to handle, between spending time with Pai and his activities Underground and his shifts at both Cafe Satine and the Jasmine Dragon. But it's strange, how no matter how crammed the weeks are here, he somehow still has an abundance of time no matter what he does, all of it ticking steadily onwards. Quite unlike at home, when he either chased seconds or brooded alone for hours. He spends those spare moments -- a slow afternoon, an insomniac dawn, a restless night, poring over the library books on the Avatar. It's true that he doesn't put stock in the intangible. Spirituality, especially, is the epitome of everything abstract and pointless. Still, the more he reads, the more the concepts sink in, regular not in schedule but in his inner sense of their solidity. Some come easily, like good ideas popping into his mind. Others aren't so detailed or obvious; the ambiguity sends him to make more library trips, combing the archives until it pays off in the reclamation of a wider-ranging knowledge.]
[ Knowledge which, he knows, he'll seldom need to apply to anything real. But it's enough that what he learns -- Balance. Duty. Harmony. -- puts Korra's background into perspective. So much responsibility, placed on her at such a young age. It doesn't make him sympathetic -- the world seldom goes easy on anyone. The cost of privilege is social burdens. (Much like the cost of deprivation is social confinement.) Still, a part of him fucking gets it -- even if he still can't grasp why she is who she is, what her life is about and what is good for her. ]
[ Then again, understanding that isn't his job. It's Korra's. ]
[ When his work-hours are over, 'Li' shuffles out, with a crumpled, peering, sleepy-eyed expression -- all signs of a busy day. Starting to lock up, he's both surprised and not to see Korra hanging outside. ]
What are you doing here?
[ Not snappish but mildly curious. (Then again, he's still in 'Li's costume.) ]
[ There's enough to handle, between spending time with Pai and his activities Underground and his shifts at both Cafe Satine and the Jasmine Dragon. But it's strange, how no matter how crammed the weeks are here, he somehow still has an abundance of time no matter what he does, all of it ticking steadily onwards. Quite unlike at home, when he either chased seconds or brooded alone for hours. He spends those spare moments -- a slow afternoon, an insomniac dawn, a restless night, poring over the library books on the Avatar. It's true that he doesn't put stock in the intangible. Spirituality, especially, is the epitome of everything abstract and pointless. Still, the more he reads, the more the concepts sink in, regular not in schedule but in his inner sense of their solidity. Some come easily, like good ideas popping into his mind. Others aren't so detailed or obvious; the ambiguity sends him to make more library trips, combing the archives until it pays off in the reclamation of a wider-ranging knowledge.]
[ Knowledge which, he knows, he'll seldom need to apply to anything real. But it's enough that what he learns -- Balance. Duty. Harmony. -- puts Korra's background into perspective. So much responsibility, placed on her at such a young age. It doesn't make him sympathetic -- the world seldom goes easy on anyone. The cost of privilege is social burdens. (Much like the cost of deprivation is social confinement.) Still, a part of him fucking gets it -- even if he still can't grasp why she is who she is, what her life is about and what is good for her. ]
[ Then again, understanding that isn't his job. It's Korra's. ]
[ When his work-hours are over, 'Li' shuffles out, with a crumpled, peering, sleepy-eyed expression -- all signs of a busy day. Starting to lock up, he's both surprised and not to see Korra hanging outside. ]
What are you doing here?
[ Not snappish but mildly curious. (Then again, he's still in 'Li's costume.) ]
[ Gratitude is a sickness suffered by dogs, isn't that how the phrase goes? Yet here is Carla, texting him at what-the-fuck-o' clock, as if he needs magic words to make the day dawn rosy-hued. It'd be almost funny, except Hei, too, has fallen into the common hypocrisy of doing and not saying; or rather doing but not acknowledging. Hadn't he done that by helping Carla, earlier? God, he is conventional, dismally, stereotypically conventional, except when it matters. ]
[(Sometimes he misses the days when he was entirely free of everything but his solitude, and lacking for nothing.) He doesn't send her a reply. But he does wonder if Carla understands, how dangerous it is to be indebted to anyone for anything. ]
[ (He should've just sent her the dry-cleaning bill for his bloody clothes, and been done with it.) ]
[(Sometimes he misses the days when he was entirely free of everything but his solitude, and lacking for nothing.) He doesn't send her a reply. But he does wonder if Carla understands, how dangerous it is to be indebted to anyone for anything. ]
[ (He should've just sent her the dry-cleaning bill for his bloody clothes, and been done with it.) ]
[Once Korra has left, Pai curls up on the couch in the living room of their apartment to wait for her brother's return.]
[ It's the dead of the night when Hei returns. ]
[ Rounds of the Underground are completed. Projects are sped-up. Threadbare thoughts have been stitched back into a semblance of cohesion. Self-control, once more, is a hard sleek shell to stymie the stormclouds and lightning-jags. Alone in his safehouse, he changes his clothes, takes an icy-cold shower. In the mirror, there are gray circles under his eyes from strain. But he can't summon an interest in that. His mind is spinning with caring about too much else. Hundreds of the things that have seemed impossibly far off and not to do with him since he's lost his Tokyo team are terribly important now, and he can't grasp them all. He no longer feels disconnected from everybody who is important to him. The opposite. He understands his tenuous ties here keep the monster of ennui at bay. Pai. Yin. Korra. ]
[ He also knows that he's frightened. ]
[ It's ridiculous. Fear is what he expects from other people. It's evident in anyone who knows about him, what he does, what he is at the end of the day. It's in the way the operatives post-Heaven's War would step aside for him or hurry up when he walked by, the way they watched him carefully as if he could explode any second, the way certain words were delivered extra-cautiously. Not exactly easy to deal with, no. But he'd never gone out of his way to act diffident and quiet and polite and nonthreatening -- unless he was masquerading as 'Li'. It was frustrating as fucking hell to juggle all that while balancing his high-wire act between human and Contractor. Especially when he didn't care what they thought about him. Fear could command greater influence than fondness or respect ever did. ]
[ But this isn't like that. It's easy to pretend like it's not there -- a creeping, pervasive terror. Hei, more than anybody, knows how to feign emotion rather than feel it. But this time, that emotion sits right under his skin. Fizzing. Crackling. A constant reminder that some enemies can't be killed. ]
[ At around 2 AM, Hei heads back Topside. Lets himself quietly into the flat, and stops when he sees Pai there. ]
[ Rounds of the Underground are completed. Projects are sped-up. Threadbare thoughts have been stitched back into a semblance of cohesion. Self-control, once more, is a hard sleek shell to stymie the stormclouds and lightning-jags. Alone in his safehouse, he changes his clothes, takes an icy-cold shower. In the mirror, there are gray circles under his eyes from strain. But he can't summon an interest in that. His mind is spinning with caring about too much else. Hundreds of the things that have seemed impossibly far off and not to do with him since he's lost his Tokyo team are terribly important now, and he can't grasp them all. He no longer feels disconnected from everybody who is important to him. The opposite. He understands his tenuous ties here keep the monster of ennui at bay. Pai. Yin. Korra. ]
[ He also knows that he's frightened. ]
[ It's ridiculous. Fear is what he expects from other people. It's evident in anyone who knows about him, what he does, what he is at the end of the day. It's in the way the operatives post-Heaven's War would step aside for him or hurry up when he walked by, the way they watched him carefully as if he could explode any second, the way certain words were delivered extra-cautiously. Not exactly easy to deal with, no. But he'd never gone out of his way to act diffident and quiet and polite and nonthreatening -- unless he was masquerading as 'Li'. It was frustrating as fucking hell to juggle all that while balancing his high-wire act between human and Contractor. Especially when he didn't care what they thought about him. Fear could command greater influence than fondness or respect ever did. ]
[ But this isn't like that. It's easy to pretend like it's not there -- a creeping, pervasive terror. Hei, more than anybody, knows how to feign emotion rather than feel it. But this time, that emotion sits right under his skin. Fizzing. Crackling. A constant reminder that some enemies can't be killed. ]
[ At around 2 AM, Hei heads back Topside. Lets himself quietly into the flat, and stops when he sees Pai there. ]
(deleted comment)
[She's never done this before her entire time here, or before, unless it was an update Hei requested, or information obviously vital to him. Because of this, she doesn't even know what to say, but she wants to talk to him. For that, Hei gets a very small, soft voice left in his message box, saying only one word:]
Hei.
Hei.
[ The message leaves him feeling like he's been ambushed. (How fitting, in its own way.) How and why, after all, would a Doll contact anyone -- particularly their killer -- of their own initiative? ]
[ Then again, Yin's never been an ordinary Doll. ]
[ Hei's spent the day since the curse recuperating from various injuries -- ranging from high-pitched pain to dull aches. The rest of the time is spent Underground, exercising on the mat in his safehouse, running for hours in the cold morning air until he can't anymore, looking over current events and keeping an eye on the City -- it's not his job, sure, but he's restless. (He drafts more than one message to Yin, to Korra, to Chekov, none of which he sends. He thinks about them intermittently until he convinces himself that he doesn't need to.) At nights, barely able to distinguish sleep from waking, he isn't sure which is worse. The passage of time seems meaningless in the pitch darkness of his mind. ]
[ But self-preservation and pragmatism are two habits Hei doesn't know how to kick. It's not in his nature to brood indefinitely. Better to focus on the Now; to keep moving. ]
[ There ia a long moment -- considering, calculating, agonizing -- before he switches the device on. ]
... Yin. [ It's quiet and steady. But there's no businesslike sharpness at the edges. Instead the word is spoken gently, part greeting, part gratitude. It's selfish, he knows. He should stay away from her, having already butchered her twice. But he can't stop that matchstick glow of delight that comes from hearing her voice. ]
Status update? [ A byword, in their homeworld, for Are you okay? ]
[ Then again, Yin's never been an ordinary Doll. ]
[ Hei's spent the day since the curse recuperating from various injuries -- ranging from high-pitched pain to dull aches. The rest of the time is spent Underground, exercising on the mat in his safehouse, running for hours in the cold morning air until he can't anymore, looking over current events and keeping an eye on the City -- it's not his job, sure, but he's restless. (He drafts more than one message to Yin, to Korra, to Chekov, none of which he sends. He thinks about them intermittently until he convinces himself that he doesn't need to.) At nights, barely able to distinguish sleep from waking, he isn't sure which is worse. The passage of time seems meaningless in the pitch darkness of his mind. ]
[ But self-preservation and pragmatism are two habits Hei doesn't know how to kick. It's not in his nature to brood indefinitely. Better to focus on the Now; to keep moving. ]
[ There ia a long moment -- considering, calculating, agonizing -- before he switches the device on. ]
... Yin. [ It's quiet and steady. But there's no businesslike sharpness at the edges. Instead the word is spoken gently, part greeting, part gratitude. It's selfish, he knows. He should stay away from her, having already butchered her twice. But he can't stop that matchstick glow of delight that comes from hearing her voice. ]
Status update? [ A byword, in their homeworld, for Are you okay? ]
[This is the first time Korra has left the beach house for an extended period of time in almost three weeks. She went to spend the day with Chekov in an effort to be a less terrible friend. And it was fun! A lot of fun. But she hadn't realized how exhausting that much socializing would be after weeks of nothing. She would have crashed at Chekov's place, but his energy was overwhelming and she needed a break. She was too tired to make it all the way back to the Beach House.
So she headed underground, to the apartment Hei had given her the key for. It was blissfully quiet after Chekov's energy and the chaos on the streets. She kicked off her shoes, let down her hair, and tumbled onto the futon face first, burying her face in the pillow to block out every trace of light.
By the time Hei arrives, she'll be dead asleep.]
So she headed underground, to the apartment Hei had given her the key for. It was blissfully quiet after Chekov's energy and the chaos on the streets. She kicked off her shoes, let down her hair, and tumbled onto the futon face first, burying her face in the pillow to block out every trace of light.
By the time Hei arrives, she'll be dead asleep.]
[ Hei's in his primary safehouse -- when the alarm pings. ]
[ Visitor at Blg #3. The mechanical chime stretches out into the room, his features distorting as he progresses through stages of confusion and then realization. His eyes widen a fraction, then snap closed. Korra. He wonders, only briefly, what she's doing in the safehouse. There to pick something up? Drop something off? Maybe catch a cat-nap, although the idea seems absurd. He's been monitoring her whereabouts for days now. She hasn't ventured beyond the Beach House, unless it's to perform katas and catch fresh fish. Thinking of her, Hei feels stifled, guilty, and self-conscious for feeling that way. He's been avoiding her for good reason. Avoiding a great deal of things, really -- in favor of work, or spending time with Pai. When not assuming the role of 'Li', he operates almost entirely Underground -- drawn to that Pandora's box of monsters and glittering vice like a shark swimming upcurrent to the scent of fresh blood. He keeps busy, welcoming the feeling of a lull in his life. The City continues to recover steadily from the trauma of the witches, and he makes a point to monitor Anonymous' activities, and threats of fresh curses. ]
[ For a long time he doesn't think about Korra at all. His mind just closes up shop on the whole curse, the people he slaughtered or hurt. It feels as far away and unrecalled as his time in first grade. Once in a while Korra may turn up in a dream, but the details melt away as soon as he awakens. ]
[ This unexpected visit... puts a stop to that. Somehow, in the blue glow of his monitor, watching Korra asleep on the futon... it shocks Hei down to the ground. ]
[ His decision to see her is inevitable, whirling thoughts and paradoxical sluggishness of brain notwithstanding. The trip to the safehouse takes a considerably shorter time. He's a little bothered at the thought of Korra coming here alone. Nothing is ready for her. No fresh food on hand, no aromas of cooking, the futon still dressed in stale sheets, the rooms cold and unaired. It's like walking straight into an undispelled atmosphere of emptiness. He moves quietly through the flat, not wanting to disturb Korra. Grabs a drink of water from the sink because his head is reeling, downs a shot of Jack, because he wants to. Fine, five shots. He lets it burn his throat and stomach as he slips off his coat and heads to the narrow bedroom. ]
[ He has no idea what he plans to say to Korra. Maybe nothing. Maybe he just wants to make sure she's all right. ]
[ Visitor at Blg #3. The mechanical chime stretches out into the room, his features distorting as he progresses through stages of confusion and then realization. His eyes widen a fraction, then snap closed. Korra. He wonders, only briefly, what she's doing in the safehouse. There to pick something up? Drop something off? Maybe catch a cat-nap, although the idea seems absurd. He's been monitoring her whereabouts for days now. She hasn't ventured beyond the Beach House, unless it's to perform katas and catch fresh fish. Thinking of her, Hei feels stifled, guilty, and self-conscious for feeling that way. He's been avoiding her for good reason. Avoiding a great deal of things, really -- in favor of work, or spending time with Pai. When not assuming the role of 'Li', he operates almost entirely Underground -- drawn to that Pandora's box of monsters and glittering vice like a shark swimming upcurrent to the scent of fresh blood. He keeps busy, welcoming the feeling of a lull in his life. The City continues to recover steadily from the trauma of the witches, and he makes a point to monitor Anonymous' activities, and threats of fresh curses. ]
[ For a long time he doesn't think about Korra at all. His mind just closes up shop on the whole curse, the people he slaughtered or hurt. It feels as far away and unrecalled as his time in first grade. Once in a while Korra may turn up in a dream, but the details melt away as soon as he awakens. ]
[ This unexpected visit... puts a stop to that. Somehow, in the blue glow of his monitor, watching Korra asleep on the futon... it shocks Hei down to the ground. ]
[ His decision to see her is inevitable, whirling thoughts and paradoxical sluggishness of brain notwithstanding. The trip to the safehouse takes a considerably shorter time. He's a little bothered at the thought of Korra coming here alone. Nothing is ready for her. No fresh food on hand, no aromas of cooking, the futon still dressed in stale sheets, the rooms cold and unaired. It's like walking straight into an undispelled atmosphere of emptiness. He moves quietly through the flat, not wanting to disturb Korra. Grabs a drink of water from the sink because his head is reeling, downs a shot of Jack, because he wants to. Fine, five shots. He lets it burn his throat and stomach as he slips off his coat and heads to the narrow bedroom. ]
[ He has no idea what he plans to say to Korra. Maybe nothing. Maybe he just wants to make sure she's all right. ]
[It's been interesting have Hei living in the Beach House. Interesting, and a little exhausting. Going from three times a month to nothing to several times every day is kind of a big change. If she thinks too hard about it, she gets a little jealous of the people he must have spent that extra sexual energy on before.
She deliberately refrains from thinking too hard about it. Why ruin something so nice? And exhausting as it is, Korra has no desire to stop or slow things down. In fact, her first thought upon waking up and seeing his eyes were still closed was I wonder if I should blow him.]
She deliberately refrains from thinking too hard about it. Why ruin something so nice? And exhausting as it is, Korra has no desire to stop or slow things down. In fact, her first thought upon waking up and seeing his eyes were still closed was I wonder if I should blow him.]
[ He's in a motionless sleep because it's been a long, long day. His routine often starts at 6 am, making breakfast, then heading for the cafe, then stopping by on breaks to spend time with Pai, or fetching X or Y groceries, or fixing X or Y equipment, before returning to work. Evenings are spent entirely in the Underground, patrolling or meeting contacts in the smoky bars and taverns. Even so, life is monotonous in a way that he doesn't quite mind. When he isn't buzzing around Pai or Yin, or getting into trouble Underground, he and Korra have carved out a refuge in the space of their ordinary lives, uninterrupted hours where they shirk everything else and settle into each other. ]
[ For the inside of the past week, it's like they've barely gotten out of bed. Or, more accurate to state, barely taken their hands off each other -- he's had her in every room of the Beach House while Pai was out, on practically every piece of furniture, in a grassy ditch full of wildflowers by the side of some unpaved road, propped against an alleyway wall between two buildings, sprawled on the hood of some dusty car in a dim parking-lot, even on the table on the veranda where he usually works, and anyone might walk in on them. ]
[ He probably hasn't had so much sex since the days he was with Amber, which in itself is both amusing and disquieting. Because, just like in Heaven's War, part of him understands this is raw and insane and temporary and ultimately will mean no more than anything that comes before it, because there's no such thing as permanence in the City. Because this is not his or Korra's real life. But the fierce fucking quels his appetites, which are real enough and even heightened by the swamp of hormones churning between them. And if he can't expend his reserves of energy on assignments anymore, and if hours at punching the bag or vaulting the pommel horse do nothing, it's as good a workout as is available to him here. Fuck knows, there is plenty of pressure to be let off. ]
[ Today finds him dozing in Korra's bed, curled up on his side with a half-finished book, face-down and spread open beside him, spine cracked. A rosy slice of sunlight streaks in through the windows as the day slowly begins. It paints the outline of his face, a smudge of eyelashes and faint creases on his forehead and a flat line of closed mouth, in sharp, sharp red. ]
[ He stirs, only a little, but not enough to truly wake. ]
[ For the inside of the past week, it's like they've barely gotten out of bed. Or, more accurate to state, barely taken their hands off each other -- he's had her in every room of the Beach House while Pai was out, on practically every piece of furniture, in a grassy ditch full of wildflowers by the side of some unpaved road, propped against an alleyway wall between two buildings, sprawled on the hood of some dusty car in a dim parking-lot, even on the table on the veranda where he usually works, and anyone might walk in on them. ]
[ He probably hasn't had so much sex since the days he was with Amber, which in itself is both amusing and disquieting. Because, just like in Heaven's War, part of him understands this is raw and insane and temporary and ultimately will mean no more than anything that comes before it, because there's no such thing as permanence in the City. Because this is not his or Korra's real life. But the fierce fucking quels his appetites, which are real enough and even heightened by the swamp of hormones churning between them. And if he can't expend his reserves of energy on assignments anymore, and if hours at punching the bag or vaulting the pommel horse do nothing, it's as good a workout as is available to him here. Fuck knows, there is plenty of pressure to be let off. ]
[ Today finds him dozing in Korra's bed, curled up on his side with a half-finished book, face-down and spread open beside him, spine cracked. A rosy slice of sunlight streaks in through the windows as the day slowly begins. It paints the outline of his face, a smudge of eyelashes and faint creases on his forehead and a flat line of closed mouth, in sharp, sharp red. ]
[ He stirs, only a little, but not enough to truly wake. ]
[ That damn cat is back, trailing at his heels... ]
[ He's left the claustrophobically cozy Beach House for a walk in the fresh air. A 'bad head', as he'd diplomatically (grumpily) muttered, when Korra asked. (It's a lie. He plans to stay out in his Underground safehouse, practicing with one of those dummies that light up in the area you're supposed to punch them, before going patrolling for something real to hack. His hand-to-hand combat doesn't actually need work, granted. But he also knows that he feels like a wild animal in a domesticated cage if he's at the Beach House too long. His body needs to remember its purpose.)]
[ (It's the only way he can stop thinking about it -- about where his life is now, how he doesn't quite know how it's going to end back home.) ]
[ When he glimpses the sleek black cat, he knows it's not Mao. A blink, then two, before he connects the feline viz with the female one. ]
... Here for freebies again.
[ It's not a question. ]
[ (It's the only way he can stop thinking about it -- about where his life is now, how he doesn't quite know how it's going to end back home.) ]
[ When he glimpses the sleek black cat, he knows it's not Mao. A blink, then two, before he connects the feline viz with the female one. ]
... Here for freebies again.
[ It's not a question. ]
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