itstillhurt | Songerein IC Inbox

(Continued from here.)

[Cautious. When did he become so cautious? He was so much easier to deal with as a reckless fool. Well. He was still a fool.

Fine. Since he insists on playing defensively, she'll just have to test him. She dives into a flurry of attacks, once again focusing on rapid strikes. She's seen those flame whips in action before- flexible, versatile, with the advantage of reach and capable of moving as fast as their namesakes, but they're certainly no friend to rapid changes in direction, and the flurry of attacks from variable angles succeeds in driving him back through the 'labyrinth' that was, more and more, their garden.

And yet, he didn't seem to be tiring, or waning, or even losing his patience. For all that he was giving ground, it almost seemed like he was willing to do so, as if he was counting on her wearing herself out.

Like she had at the Agni Kai. Again, she's struck by the strange feeling that he's not the Zuko she last seen-

'Let me help you! I want to help you!'

Why could the intrusive memories never give her a moment's peace? She snarls in a renewed fit of aggression, but- No. No, she can't afford to get sloppy, not now, not she can't let him- not again-

And then she has it.

He's new. And that means she has access to something he's never seen. Something she only just recently mastered.

It was like destiny.

Her eyes suddenly light up with a wild excitement. Yes. She can win. She lunges suddenly, overextending to strike at him with a flame dagger, and he easily dodges it, his own instinctive attack knocking the mask from her face and setting it alight- but she drops the bending, and a black mist flows from her hand over his wrist. By the time they've regained their footing, the mist has coalesced into a heavy steel manacle around his wrist, and a long, long chain leading into her hands.]

Dreams have their own magic. You really should have listened to the tapirs, Zu-zu.

[Before he has a chance to react or try to escape the sudden snare, she grasps the chain and hauls him toward the kick she launches at his gut, kicking him back toward the gazebo.]

[She's immediately cognizant that she's in a dream, but by now that's not unusual for her. An old reflex, ingrained by months of lucid dreaming training so that she could practice her dreamotion. Not that she's using it now, of course, but the training remains.

This time, it's no strange esoteric nightmare- no horrible birds, no hideous tree men, not even any of her own memories from home, for better or for worse. Just her, alone, walking the beach of Ember Island. The place is, as is often the case in her dreams, entirely empty and isolated.

At first, she doesn't even notice when the newcomer arrives behind her.]

( It's a night like any other, but Shealtiel's nightmares have never given him peace.

As always with these, he's unaware that he's dreaming when he steps along the halls of the giant, empty church. Everything looks so much bigger, like it had when he was younger— but he's his own adult self, dressed in the same robes he would have been before. Gloves and long robes can cover the scars on the left side of his body, and his wings... His wings are out, but the left side weighs heavily on his back. Fake wings cover his pathetic, wrinkled, raggedy black demon wings— they're heavy, he has to be cautious not to move his wings to reveal how he can't on that side, and—

Suddenly it isn't a hallway. It's the main building of the church, each and every one of the seats filled with people of all ages staring at him, whispering about his status as an angel. His body aches in the memory of it, and he takes a hesitant step back, but there are already hundreds of hands surrounding him. )

Stop...

( He'd gotten over his hesitance to be touched, hadn't he? So why this, why now— The hands that reach out to grab at his wings all sting painfully. They ache, and burn, like the knives that had been used against him this whole time, and when he tries to back up again, he realizes he's completely surrounded by bodies on all side. Hands, reaching, grabbing, touching. )

It hurts... ( He can't make his voice as loud as he wants to, and he reaches his hands up to his face, trying to shield his face, to prevent his eyes from coming out. )

Don't touch me...!

( But no one is listening. )

For Zuko/@rediscovering, as plotted OOC

For Shealtiel/@lemoncandy Night of the 25th

hiii here with a dream with cw child abuse references