Who cares what picture you see?

[mortemscintilla]

WHO: Korra and Hei
WHAT: Two crazy kids catch a movie. This thread is about a millimeter deep.

[ A new Mover. Faster Nuktuk! Kill! Kill! The title alone doesn't bear thinking of. Scorpions crawling around in his boxers sound more fun. Hei has no idea why he agreed to go. But Korra assured him it wasn't a four-hour epic, and that if he got too bored they could slip away. With reluctance, but aware of certain unpaid debts of boyfriendly attention, he agreed. ]

[ Since Yin's return, he knows he hasn't been spending as much time with her as he ought to. Too busy setting up living arrangements for his friend, trying without words to bridge the gap of three inexplicable years, to make sure she's safe and -- yes, happy. Because she's wasted eerily away since they've been apart, a dull-eyed washed-out husk of herself. Too Doll-like to fill him with anything but dread. ]

[ The past few weeks, he's compensated by paying her steady attention. Until she understands that he's not going anywhere, until she feels entitled to his time as a friend should. He encourages her to listen to radio broadcasts for events, so she'll be prepared with suggestions about what they might do. He gets her audio books in cassettes, a small, ornately-carved zither to play tunes on, practices his increasingly-spotty German on her, gently coaxes her out to eat all sorts of unthinkable things: arctic hen testicles, jelly of turtleduck, thousand year old eggs. He's not sure the outings make a lick of a difference. But last week, Yin was actually the one to initiate their always-brief, one-sentence conversations, rather than the other way around. Hei takes that as a good sign. ]

[ Tonight, the air carries a chill, and Korra is sunshine temperature, a little waft of summer walking at his side. Hei lets his hand curl around hers, tucking them both with a habitual air into his coat pocket. Also with a habitual air, he scans the street as they drift through the crowd, checking ambush positions, logging exits and hideaways, with the practiced nonchalance of an ex-Syndicate op. Everything looks fine. ]

[ By degrees, he allows his tension to thaw, until it is no more than a small shard lodged in his guts. The theater lies ahead, its marquee of lights boxing in the words Nuktuk like the moral of a Sunday sermon on a church sign. A knot of people wait outside; families jawing amiably, children squealing, teenagers boiling over with hormone-driven energy, giggling and jostling one another. Surrounded on all sides by normal, Hei feels wariness tugging his brows like needle with a thread. But Korra's scent is a sweet tickle in his nose, her fingers delicate, yet comfortingly strong in his, and her soft prattle laps richly at his ear, grounding his scattershot senses. ]

[ Squeezing her hand, he edges in closer. His voice is wary, interest hidden under a hard shell. ]

Is this the theater where they use real butter for the popcorn?

Comments

[mortemscintilla]

It was.

[ Gingerly, Hei steps around the man's limp body to the sink. Turns the tap on, splashing his face vigorously before combing all ten wet fingers through his mussed hair: he'd been stone-cold sober and on red alert during the electrocution, but he feels sloppy drunk now, endorphins and embarrassment feathering warmly across his face. On the bright side, at least Korra isn't caterwauling. He's not sure how many degrees of mood-whiplash his nerves can tolerate all at once. ]

[ Glancing at her, he reaches out to cup her jaw, a brief stroke of impulse, before clearing his throat and resettling his gaze on his victim. ]

We should get out of here.

[anatural]

Yeah. [She starts to reach down, thinking to prop the man up more comfortably, but he looks comfortable enough. And Korra wants to get out before anyone else catches them.

She walks out of the bathroom calmly, without any sign of guilt or embarrassment. She's gotten much better about keeping her head in situations like this. Not that she's usually in situations like this. But still. She doesn't stop to wait for Hei until they're outside.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei watches her slip out, before he focuses on arranging the unconscious man at a strategic angle, so it seems as though he'd slipped on wet tile and conked his head against the sink. Once he's satisfied, he straightens his own clothes, then drifts with perfect aplomb out of the bathroom, and the theater itself. The air is still and bracingly chilly, a throng of chattering moviegoers dotting the sidewalk. Some of them are discussing the Nuktuk film. Hei listens half-heartedly to people's conversations and steals a comment or two to pass along to Bolin when the boy asks him about the mover. ]

[ He stops abreast of Korra, who still looks a little wild-haired and red-cheeked, her mouth swollen from what they were doing barely a few moments prior. The fleeting, ordinary feelings of the evening, the deep ones, content and angst-knotted, all mix together and resolve to the same bright blue of Korra's eyes. ]

[ With a flickering hint of a smile, Hei murmurs, ]

I could go for some ice cream.

[ Sure, it's fifty degrees out, but he's overheated after the encounter in the bathroom. (Maybe he also wants to prolong the evening a tad. Tomorrow they'll return to their routines, and to juggling separate lives while trying and failing to squeeze in room for each other.) ]

[anatural]

All that popcorn and you want ICE CREAM? [She laughs and shakes her head. Of course he wants ice cream right now, and probably a five course meal. He's always hungry.] Never mind. I think there's a good place nearby.

[She reaches out to link her hands with his. She should feel bad about the poor slod in the bathroom, but hey, Chekov was always fine after the shocks. So she's going to let all the bad feelings fall away and focus on what's good: the post-orgasm glow, Hei's warmth beside her. Why not get ice cream?]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Of course he wants ice cream. The inside of his stomach would terrify Nietzsche's abyss. ]

[ He lets her slip her little hand into his, sticking both by habit into his coat pocket. Silently and without expression he admires the shape of her face, the shorn tufts of hair glinting in the streetlights, the heat pouring off her like a sine-wave that radiates in shimmers across his cool skin. Everything feels good, warm and contained and safe, this fleeting flare of connection between the two of them, within the larger circle of glittering cityscape that reminds him of the City, the place that made the dubious mess of Hei-and-Korra possible in the first place. ]

[ The ice-cream shop is not too far off. He guides Korra in to the cheerful chiming of the bells ribboned above the door. Takes a moment to peruse the chalk-scrawled menu board. Unfailingly predictable when it comes to breakfast, lunch and dinner, he never orders the same thing twice here. Tonight it is almond ice cream with chocolate sprinkles and chunks of snowskin mooncake. He pays for his and Korra's icy treats, and shovels his face into his cone the moment he has it. He likes this place for its Hong Kong-esque ritual of the ice cream assembly, how the wedge of ice cream is slapped onto the counter, the nuts folded in with a short spatula, the results smashed into a cone. ]

[ He munches his treat out in the sharp air, one hand still wrapped around Korra's, watching idly through the window as a tall hipster-kid with spiky light-pink hair argues for some concoction that demands a precise milk temperature of 170 degrees. ]

[ Dryly, ]

This place is becoming more like my world [ Tokyo, minus the vines ] by the day.

[anatural]

[Korra's choice is a little strange — wakame ice cream. This is the only place she's ever seen it offered. She licks it happily before Hei makes his comment.]

Considering everything I've heard about your world...I'm not sure how I feel about that.

[She gives him a dry look...then realizes she's got ice cream on her nose.]

[mortemscintilla]

I just meant --

[ It's a glittering, stratified city, the same way Tokyo was -- but ever since the new Spirit Portal had been ripped open, it has taken on that breath-held, unearthly glow that reminds him of when the Gate first materialized. The gleaming skyscrapers above, umbilicalled together by streaks of luminous colors, and the bustling traffic, garlands of dusty black power lines, and clamoring marketplaces below -- they're all a testament to how everything that's routine can be torn apart and reshaped, but it won't impede the grind of daily life. ]

[ He doesn't bother explaining that. Too detailed, too philosophical. Instead, with an air of wry good-humor, he reaches out and thumbs the smudge off her nose, before kissing it with cool lips. ]

Never mind.

[anatural]

[She stays close to him — edging into PDA territory, but she doesn't care.]

You can't just leave me hanging like that.

[She squeezes his hand.] What do you think of the city?

[mortemscintilla]

[ Unlike years ago, he doesn't jerk away in a display of moody reserve, or dish out that warning, alpha-dog stare that says Back off, let's not get too friendly. He's long since acknowledged his own critical disloyalty at that tetchiness, and come to accept it as an empty gesture of resistance against everything he feels for the girl. ]

[ So he stays where he is, not cuddling but comfortably close, his fingers folded with hers. He doesn't look at her. Instead his gaze cuts a slow, casual scan across their surroundings -- the swirling currents of pedestrians and glowing streetlamps, the flickering signs and streaks of rumbling satomobiles, At that moment, it looks to him very much like Tokyo -- like a city still clinging to the vestiges of its unmarked childhood, and inexorably losing its grip. ]

[ Eventually, ]

It's the longest I've stayed anywhere. But it still seems ... I don't know. Mysterious. Like it's inviting me to explore what it has to offer. It's new for me. Mostly because I was always so inhibited wherever I went. Always looking over my shoulder. There's less cause for that here.

[ His voice is mild, but its undertones could be either dubious or satisfied. The language of BK201 -- brother and sister -- is a complex structure. ]

[anatural]

[Korra finishes her ice cream while he talks, and crumbles the wrapper into her pocket.]

I'm glad. [She'll never know, but she can imagine what life is like, always looking over your shoulder. Nobody should have to live like that. The fact that he can let that go, even a little bit, is gratifying.

And she loves Republic City. As rough as it's gotten sometimes with reporters, and angry citizens, and President Raiko being a dick, it's her home. It's the place where she really came into her own as the Avatar. It's as much a part of her, if not more, as the South Pole. Which is why she'd been a little nervous that maybe the comparison with his homeworld was a bad one.]

Want to explore?

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei pops the last chunk of cone into his mouth, swallows, briefly considers getting another one, then decides against it. The streetlights twinkle in the still, rimey air, and above their heads the sky stretches away, pinned in place by faded white points, with a slice of moon making a single rent in the fabric. Even after all this time, mapping out routes and escapeways and knowing the city out of necessity, not sentiment, Hei thinks he might feel the same way about it as Korra does. (He wonders what that means, that this peculiar rhythm of Republic City has fused into a small space in his chest, without his notice, the way it once had with Tokyo.) ]

Sure. [ Is his answer, thrown at her through the chill-pink curl of his mouth. His fingers re-braid gently with hers but do not commit to outright tugging. ] Anyplace in mind?

[anatural]

Hmmm. I don't know. [She says that, but she gently tugs him along anyway, just to get moving, even if it's aimless.]

Is there any place you're curious about?

[The streets are mostly quiet...everyone is either in a theater, a restaurant, or at home. It won't be long until the theaters and the restaurants let out, though, and a part of Korra isn't ready for that. She wants to be alone with him while maintaining the illusion that the whole world is theirs.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The whole world will never be theirs. But it's easy to imagine it could be, the way it was in the City. Sometimes Hei feels like that place had held his senses to ransom. Once he'd resigned himself to the fact that he couldn't drive Korra off, he'd tried to catch at every single moment with her, determined to make it matter in case they never saw each other again. It had been worth it. Worth it to play stupid charades in that dust-scented shed, to catch raging Muay Thai matches and slip into glittering nightclubs, worth it to have Pai and Yin and Mao so close, feeding that slow loosening in his chest like a long-rusted gate coming unstuck. ]

[ It was worth it. Every single bit. Otherwise he'd have been bored to death by the cold hard grind of life. Bored, and so very dead. ]

[ He squeezes Korra's hand, letting her shepherd him down the quiet street. ]

'Curious'? No. But -- [ The way his mouth quirks a little to the left means it's a joke even if it's not strictly delivered like one. (Mostly). ] I've always wanted to jump off Aang's statue and see if I live when I hit the water.

[anatural]

[It will never be like it was in the City, no — but while Korra sometimes misses the freedom, being able to do wild and crazy and kinky things, not having to worry about who sees her... she's happier here than she ever was there. She's happier with Hei here than she ever was in the City, even during their best days there. She isn't his pet or his doll here. They're actually partners.

She snorts at his unexpected answer. Like she'd let him die. He's dating the master of four elements — jumping off Aang's statue is practically a joke.]

Let's do it! [And she drags him in the direction of the bay.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Odd to imagine, if the coin in their relation had flipped another way -- But no, what is the point of it? It isn't innocent randomness that has arranged his life -- or hers. The pattern of his particles, his foibles, his interests, his partners, is no accident. Korra had begun first in his life as a substitute, a fill-in for the enormous vacuum Pai had left behind. But she'd been much more complicated to label than just that. For all her naivety, her childlike limitations, she'd been capable of operations of great emotional delicacy. She'd surprised him over and over -- unbending and unfurling to suit the moment while he'd remained trapped by Shouldn't be's and Mustn't be's, cages if inhibitions and mistrust, boxes of words, his own rigid conditions for being together, for their relationship. She'd coaxed him away from the steely spycraft clamping down his brain -- and that is what is the most unnerving of all. He'll never stop feeling unequal to all the things she's done for him. ]

[ Like now. Indulging his madcap whim. ]

[ He lets her drag him off, amused but not showing it. They drift down the berm to the shoreline, near the foot of Aang's statue. Stars hover at the eastern horizon, casting slivers of metallic light on the water: the air is weighed by a shivery pale mist that feels good on the skin. ]

[ Tipping his head back, Hei squints at the peak of the statue -- green-lit and monolithic. ]

Planning to airbend us to the top? Or taking the elevator like normal people?

[ As if normal people jump off statues. ]

troll response is troll

[anatural]

I could use my firebending to shoot us up like a rocket. [BIG GRIN]

>3

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei eyes her like she's suggested cutting off an ear. ]

I'll pass.

[ re: I have no idea how familiar you are with Newton's Second Law. (He doesn't want to die before he's even made it to the top, Korra.) ]

[anatural]

[OH YE OF LITTLE FAITH. SHE'S BEEN A HUMAN ROCKET BEFORE. But fine, whatever, they can do it your way if you don't want to live.]

So that's your vote for the elevator? [She freezes the surface water of the bay so they can skate across to the island Aang's memorial stands on. Who wants to wait for the ferry? She leads him down onto the ice, bending enough friction so that they don't slip. Mommy, that’s the Avatar! Korra grins and waves at a little girl standing at the dock, waiting for the ferry.]

Don't try this at home!

[mortemscintilla]

[ UNDER DURESS. IT DOES NOT COUNT. ]

[ He descends with her onto the flat opaque sheet of ice. The waves of water are a rippled distortion beneath the sugared glaze. Threading his fingers through Korra's, he watches with the barest hint of a smile as the little girl gawps at them. Moments like these, he can't help but envy her fixed purpose, the way she's fitted so perfectly into her role, her self -- even as he quietly laments his own aimlessness, the way he's trying to salvage the wreckage of his aborted life but unable to find a real niche for himself. He wants to be better, saner and steadier, like Korra: he wants to take things as they come; to let go and move on, but in the most driven way; to bend with life's blows and grow stronger instead of more jagged-edged and bitter. ]

[ Too bad he has no idea where to start. ]

[ Maybe that's why he's doing something as stupid as leaping off that towering statue. A special breed of people try these things: suicides, failed daredevils, boozesoaked ruins. He's been all three, at some point in his life. Maybe this is his way of posing a dare to the powers that be. I'm here, I'm durable, I'm wasting precious time. Give me something to do. ]

[ Or it could be he's overstating it. Maybe it's just the thing to do on those blistering-cold days when the chill hangs forever and the monotony makes you a bit crazy. ]

[anatural]

[Shut up it totally does.

They reach the shore of the island and Korra lifts them out of the water and deposits them on land with a little unnecessary flourish, because it's fun. The island's custodian starts to tell them the place is closed, but stops as soon as he recognizes the Avatar. She tells him to lock up, they just want to look around a bit, and because she's the Avatar, he does. Of course, they still have to wait for him to do that. Wait for him to cross the bay. Wait to make sure there'd be no witnesses.]

You know, we could've skipped all this if you let me rocket.

[mortemscintilla]

You take too many shortcuts.

[ Learn to appreciate the excruciating slowness of normalcy, like the rest of the mere mortals. ]

[ He waits patiently until the custodian ferries off. Then it's just a matter of the dreamily long elevator ride. At the apex of the statue, Republic City is a cluster of twinkling lights, shaped into a sprawling star. The sky above it seems composed of overlapping blue-to-purple-colored curtains. Carefully, Hei steps toward the edge. The wind fills his ears, a cold, storm-bearing swirl. Below, the drop into the dark water is disorienting. Hei just smiles against the melancholic ennui that feathers against him like powdery snow. How long has it been since he'd stopped feeling vertiginous at the very tip of a drop? Since the freefall became nothing but a way to cut fastest from point A to point B? ]

[ He's stopped experiencing life, even at its furthest ambit where the definitions are most powerful. ]

[ Kicking his boots off, he shrugs away his coat and peels his shirt over his head. The pale starlight glints off the roping scars on his goose-fleshed torso and the indentation of the faded verminox scar on his arm. Tiptoeing to the ledge, he glances sideways at Korra, ]

Going to watch, or join in?

[anatural]

Excuse me for being efficient.[She grumbles affectionately. She doesn't mind the wait — it's a nice night, the island is quiet, and she likes just being there with him. She leans against his arm as they head up to the top.

She just leans back and enjoys the view as Hei strips down to just his pants.]

I'll watch to make sure you don't kill yourself. [Just a joke, of course. A prepared fall like this wouldn't hurt him. But she doesn't want to do this with him. She gets the feeling sometimes that he needs something all his own. As small and silly as this is... let it be his.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei tips a shoulder, a noncommittal Suit yourself, but there is a quiet gratitude tucked away behind his smile. She's being indulgent of his idiotic fancy -- and while it should make him uncomfortable, like a spoiled child allowed to enjoy one last carnival ride, all he feels is thankful. He doesn't know how to explain to her -- the little gestures and commonplace risks that act as his bridge between a world of perfect spycraft and the messy, spontaneous, open-ended world everyone else inhabits. He doesn't have to explain it. ]

[ Body angled, he makes an arrow of himself. Night breeze ruffles his hair to bring up goose pimples and the darkness is such that the water can't be seen, only heard, a throaty rush that his bare skin feels in an acute contact high. Perched on the verge of a blackness so deep it should be like leaping into everlasting night or into death itself. ]

[ It isn't. But wouldn't it be interesting if it was? ]

[ When he leaps, it's legs-first, arms crossed over his chest so he falls as if tipped dead from a coffin. Such a short fall for such a yawning distance, yet it's a shot of pure adrenaline. Then he's underwater, bitingly cold and dark, and everything disappears -- sky, stars, city, self. On the surface, barely a ripple spreads where he's dropped in. It's a given that generally you surface forty yards from where you've dropped in. He doesn't, though. The water's shimmering surface stays unbroken. ]

[ (Try not to worry, Korra. He can hold his breath an admirably long time.) ]

[anatural]

[Korra's heart clenches, just a little, as he goes plummeting over the edge, even as she knows he's going to be okay. She's seen him do crazy shit before — swinging from building to building, taking risks that seem insane as easily as you walk out the front door of your house.

She strolls to the edge, peering down to make sure she doesn't need to bend the water before he breaks the surface. She barely sees him slide in, he makes so little impact on the water. She watches and waits for him to come up.

And waits.

And...waits. He's fine. She knows he's fine. But that's still a really long time in the water.]

Shoot.

[She shrugs off her coat and dives after him. Just in case.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Upon impact, the icy water had sent a rolling tide of gooseflesh up Hei's body. But the chill is gone now, water warm, the temperature of blood. He lets himself go, not diving but merely sinking. His nose is filled with the taste of stirred silt and algae and salt; the weight of water forces the air from his lungs. He knows you're supposed to surface quick, to tread ashore with the strong slice of a shark's fin. If you cramp up or get licked by a ripcurl you'll be sucked into the break where bay meets sea. That far out, only the sky and water, a body gets to feeling it's filled with rocks. People drown all the time. ]

[ He doesn't want to drown. He's never been interested in going out so easy. Life never offers you free handouts. Why make it any easier for death? ]

[ Still, he stays where he is, buffeted by undercurrents, pulled deeper. Strands of hair sweep in soft arcs across his face. He floats through perfect blackness, uncertain gravity. Feeling so sweetly serene, so close to death. Close enough to taste, if death has a taste. ]

[ Then he becomes aware of body plunging near his, a blur of flailing little arms and legs distorted by motion and diffusion. Blinking, the illusion of peace dissolved, he arrows his body. Kicking with powerful strokes to the surface, hurtling up into the frigid air, the hot white stars above aligned in orbit, the distant screeching of gulls, the syncopated beat of music from one of the bayside dance-halls -- and the shape of Korra's lovely bedraggled head, the sight hitting him like a waft of pure oxygen. ]

[ He blinks a moment, confused. Then smiles an odd, inscrutable half-smile. ]

I thought you were just watching.