[ The door shatters open, and Hei's head jerks up from where he's settled crosslegged on the floor, a worn-out pack of mahjong-solitaire chips laid out nearby. His eyes narrow -- first in annoyance, then in alarm. ]
[ Fuck. This must be one of those days they talk about. The ones when the unseen forces which govern the universe array in perversity, when books rip, toasters fume, and your most comfortable pair of jeans feel as if they belong to someone else, someone ten pounds lighter or of a different gender. Every enormous and gnat-sized nuisance that life can devise will inevitably attach itself to you. And here, as a bonus, swoops in the biggest nuisance of all. ]
[ One pissed-off Avatar. ]
[ It's so unexpected that Hei's usual composure fails him. The surface of his face is like watching a stone dropped in a lake, shock rippling out. ]
Korra...
[ It's intoned as both How did you get here? and You shouldn't be here. Because, for one thing, the chair with Rich Boy shackled to it is empty. The tanning bed is on, and a terrible odor fills the air: a sickly-sweet mingling of cooked meat, blood, hair. Blood seeps between the seams of the tanning bed, thin runners that look a little like warm tar. The lid is half-open, and inside, his body a juddering curl, the kid is in rough shape. His body is stoplight-red, except for the odd patch charred black. And he is -- steaming. It rises off him in savory plumes, as from the surface of a hot bath. ]
[ Hearing Korra's voice, or maybe Hei's, he opens his eyes in agony. The ultraviolet light has blinded him: his eyes are completely bloodshot, the eyes of an albino. He thrashes mindlessly, flesh loose, more of a sheath than a part of him. A thin keening noise drags out of his throat -- but it isn't mindless burbling. It's the exact info Hei's been plumbing for the past half-hour, sputtered in choking groans. ]
[ Hei would find it ironic -- if he weren't so jarred by Korra's intrusion. ]
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BLEEP BLOOP GORE WARNING
Date: 2014-08-13 12:43 am (UTC)[ Fuck. This must be one of those days they talk about. The ones when the unseen forces which govern the universe array in perversity, when books rip, toasters fume, and your most comfortable pair of jeans feel as if they belong to someone else, someone ten pounds lighter or of a different gender. Every enormous and gnat-sized nuisance that life can devise will inevitably attach itself to you. And here, as a bonus, swoops in the biggest nuisance of all. ]
[ One pissed-off Avatar. ]
[ It's so unexpected that Hei's usual composure fails him. The surface of his face is like watching a stone dropped in a lake, shock rippling out. ]
Korra...
[ It's intoned as both How did you get here? and You shouldn't be here. Because, for one thing, the chair with Rich Boy shackled to it is empty. The tanning bed is on, and a terrible odor fills the air: a sickly-sweet mingling of cooked meat, blood, hair. Blood seeps between the seams of the tanning bed, thin runners that look a little like warm tar. The lid is half-open, and inside, his body a juddering curl, the kid is in rough shape. His body is stoplight-red, except for the odd patch charred black. And he is -- steaming. It rises off him in savory plumes, as from the surface of a hot bath. ]
[ Hearing Korra's voice, or maybe Hei's, he opens his eyes in agony. The ultraviolet light has blinded him: his eyes are completely bloodshot, the eyes of an albino. He thrashes mindlessly, flesh loose, more of a sheath than a part of him. A thin keening noise drags out of his throat -- but it isn't mindless burbling. It's the exact info Hei's been plumbing for the past half-hour, sputtered in choking groans. ]
[ Hei would find it ironic -- if he weren't so jarred by Korra's intrusion. ]