love builds prisons

[anatural]

WHO: Hei & Korra
WHAT: After losing the baby, Korra sneaks out of the metal clan city to find Zaheer.

[Korra walks quickly and quietly down the corridors, using every technique she'd learned during the civil war to remain unnoticed by the guards. Snow and metal were two entirely different elements, but when you looked beyond the surface differences, the techniques for one can guide techniques for the other. She's heading for one of the isolated service doors that open up to the world outside the metal clan's city. Naga's already outside — earlier that day Korra had gone for a ride with her, and returned on foot after the guards had changed shifts. Her escape has been carefully, meticulously planned. The only person who could stop her is Hei, and he's not going to notice. He's been off in his own little dark world since she lost the baby. He doesn't see her at all.

Nobody does. Tenzin, Bolin, Mako, even Asami... They're so caught up in their pain for her that they can't see they're drowning her. Every time they say Korra, I’m so sorry, all she can think is Why? She's never wanted to be a mother. The Red Lotus is gunning for her and every other world leader. It's honestly for the best that the baby is gone. She knows there's a part of her that's grieving, but she can't feel it. That numbness and detachment frighten her, but there's no one she can talk to about it because all she'd get is more sympathy and orders to rest. Take it easy. Stay inside. Love will once again build her a prison — but she doesn't plan on giving it the chance. More than anything else, she's the Avatar, and she's not going to just hide inside a metal fortress while the world burns because she's "recovering." Even if she has to do it alone, she's going to find Zaheer and stop him.

She reaches the service door and lets out a relieved breath. Almost there.]

Comments

[anatural]

[The water evaporates immediately before the charge can make its way up the full length. Another tentacle lashes out, but the wielder has learned her lesson — it's aimed to strike quickly and then dissipate. One thing is clear — the perpetrator(s) are aiming for silence.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The attackers may be aiming for silence. But Hei has already resolved to trade stealth for speed -- and fury. ]

[ When the next tentacle swings toward him, he's ready. Leaping clear, Korra slung across one shoulder, he lets fly a set of glinting stilettos in the general direction of his attacker. If they strike, good. If not -- it's a ruse, anyway. He's utilized the feint to launch a wire toward the closest building, rearing up nearly five stories high, gathering speed and momentum like a soundwave -- before his feet hit the rooftop. He doesn't stay there, though. His focus is on the modest-sized water tower, positioned at the edge. ]

[ In a series of weaving movements, he's looped his wires around the structure. In the next instant, a flash of electricity strikes the steely supports, exploding the tank like the skin of a giant balloon, branding the exoskeleton shape in the retinas of everyone nearby. In the flare of luminescence, water erupts everywhere, a brutal deluge spilling over the rooftop's edge to drench everything below. ]

[ It's not Hei's usual method. But right now he's aiming for something bombastic. Something guaranteed to alert the guards who patrol the parameter of danger. ]

[ And the plus side? The ground around his opponents will be soaking wet. The ideal surface to use his ability. ]

[anatural]

[Not when you're up against a waterbender. His opponents — still hiding in shadows — have registered his skill with electricity, and the waterbender quickly gathers all the water so he can't use it against them. Meanwhile, the earth turns to sand beneath Hei's feet, Korra's weight sinking him quickly.

The alarms go off, lighting up the city and granting Hei his first look at his opponents. An outrageously tall woman with her third eye tattooed on her forehead. An earthbender who'd look more at home in the streets of Republic City. A woman with water tentacles instead of arms. And in the center, flanked by them all, a small bald man radiating calm and charisma even in silence.

Zaheer.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Shit. ]

[ He starts to sink, the floor like hot wax sucking at his toes. Reflexively, he adjusts his grip around Korra, one damp hand on her spine, transmitting a pulse restless with adrenaline into the chambers of her still body. ]

[ Just before he lets fly a second wire, the blaze of spotlights illuminates the scene, to the blaring shriek of sirens. In the stark glow, he has a visual on the attackers. Two men, two women. He's gathered enough intel on their appearances, their reputed abilities, to mentally fix a name to each one. P'Li. Ghazan. Ming Hua. And in the center, a solid man possessed a preternatural state of calm unusual for the moment; it would be easier to picture him in the Lotus position on a beach, eyes serenely shut, totally Zen-ing out. ]

[ So that's Zaheer. ]

[ In the next beat, his wire snags a taller building. Wrenching free of the quicksand with a harsh squelch, he leaps feet-first to the second rooftop. Lets rip another surge of electricity, this one narrower, more intense, along the iron pole jutting adjacent to the ledge -- letting it disperse in fritzing blue veins along the half-wet floor below. ]

[ Maybe the group will deflect the shock. Maybe not. But underneath the dark curl of determination, there is a gutting edge of anxiety. He is the best at his field. But right now he feels far from a superman or a blessed protector or anything else that Korra deserves. ]

[anatural]

[He may not be a superman or a blessed protector, but in this moment, he is very, very lucky. Just as P'Li gets ready to send a blast straight at him, the city guards jump into the fray. The four invaders are hemmed in by a barrage of earthbending from all sides.

A breath later and Mako & Bolin both join the city guards in the fight. Asami holds back — her tactics work best in close range combat — which is why she's the first to notice Hei and Korra. She runs over.]

Li, what happened?!

[mortemscintilla]

[ He watches the earthbenders trap the Red Lotus in a rocky testudo. But he knows it won't hold them for long. Not when they have a reputed lavabender in their midst. Still, he's grateful for the distraction. The more distance he puts between Korra and these assassins, the better. ]

[ When he's reached a relatively safer spot, he loosens his grip on Korra, crouched low to keep them out of visual range. His skull blazes with fire, but everything else has that familiar, prism-sharp clarity. He hears Asami at once, head jerking her direction as she runs over. His expression shutters between blank and sharp and blank again, varying degrees of danger flashing beneath his gaze. His hands, though, stay curled around Korra. ]

The Red Lotus were already in the city. They were obviously waiting for a chance to ambush Korra.

[ Ironic to realize that if she hadn't chosen tonight to sneak out, they might've gotten to her sooner. ]

[anatural]

[Asami drops to her knees by Korra's side, and brushes the hair from her face.]

What did they do to her?

[Korra stirs faintly at the other girl's touch, the first signs of eventual consciousness.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ It's idiotic to say That wasn't them. That was me. So he doesn't bother. Korra stirs fitfully to the other girl's touch; he knows if it were Mako or Bolin, he'd rarely allow them such an intimate vantage on Korra's face. Beyond them there's a hot flare of light and flickering bursts of heat -- the lavabender, Ghazan, tearing down the barrier. The orange glow catches in Korra's eyelashes, on the curve of her cheek, and in the topography of one eye. Hei knows she'll be awake eventually. A feisty Avatar would be a welcome contribution to the battle. But he knows better than anyone she's not up to her usual 110%. Not yet. Worse, if Zaheer and his crew have a contingency plan for incapacitating her, then they need to keep Korra beyond his reach. ]

[ Finally, flatly, ]

She'll be up soon. But we need to get her out of here.

[anatural]

[He never actually answered her question — and Asami shoots him a look that says she noticed it. But she sets it aside to focus on the more pressing emergency.]

We can take her to my room. I've got my glove there.

[And I’ll use it against you if I have to. She tries not to show it, and to play off her wariness as keeping an eye out for the Red Lotus, but to someone like Hei, it'd be readily apparent who the real target of her suspicion is. It's not like she knows him, after all. Nobody really knows him except for Korra...]

[mortemscintilla]

[ It's clear she doesn't trust him. But who can blame her? He's not going out of his way to project his usual persona. To disguise his true agenda behind Li's nervous stutters and civilian ineptitude. Those qualities that hold him in fine stead until he peels the layers back to unleash the Reaper, with his bloodlust and quick fists and cruel ways; only then does it drive home the point that Li is no better than frippery. ]

[ It doesn't matter. Now isn't the time to play games. ]

[ He keeps one hand circled around Korra. The other, after a moment's hesitation, comes to rest on Asami's wrist -- slow and measured and easy to see coming. (Except no contact Hei makes is ever that innocuous.) Her wary look gets an unblinking one in reply. ]

Bad idea. If the Red Lotus beat off the guards, they'd trap us in an enclosed space. The safer option is to keep moving. [ A beat, then: ] We need all the fighters we can get. Knocking me out with your glove won't help anyone.

[anatural]

[Asami doesn't acknowledge his overt reference to her suspicions. Knocking him out wasn't her first plan — just a convenient backup.]

If we need as many fighters as we can get, then I need my glove. I'm not a bender, but I can fight just as well as any of you can.

[Korra stirs with a little moan, and her eyes flutter open. Her expression remains dazed — until an explosion from the fight jolts her to full consciousness.]

What's going on? What did you do to me?

[Those words are all Asami needs to hear. If there's an innocent explanation, he can give it later; she yanks her fist away and grabs Korra.]

Run!

[mortemscintilla]

[ Despite the blazing violence of the battle beyond, Korra's soft vocalization sinks into Hei's brain like a tiny shock. He glances down at her, and, as the explosion judders through the air, tightens his arm reflexively around her. He doesn't get a chance to speak, though. Asami, taking her slurred question as proof of his untrustworthiness, grabs her and tries to wrench her to her feet. ]

[ Irritated, Hei restrains Korra with one arm. Grabs Asami by the back of the neck with the other -- a matter-of-fact application of brute force. Another explosion reverberates, this one close enough that he can feel the outrushing heat. Scowling, he hunkers low, dragging the two girls with him. All his senses feel dialed up. Over-dialed -- the needle creeping into the red. ]

[ When he speaks to Korra, it's taut and steady as a highwire-act balanced on a tightrope. ]

The Red Lotus laid an ambush. That's all that matters right now. [ Then, to Asami: ] I can cover you until you get Korra indoors. Grab your glove -- then head for the cellar. There's a passage there that leads out of the city.

[ Better for Korra to be nowhere near the vicinity, if the Red Lotus break free. ]

[anatural]

[Like Asami is going to take orders from some jerk who manhandles her like that! She glances at Korra, ready to follow her lead (or take it if she has to).

Korra nods in acknowledgement — half-reluctant to leave the fight, half-reluctant to give him any kind of satisfaction, but she knows she can count on him in a fight.]

Fine. [She gets to her feet a little unsteadily, and lets Asami help her.] Let's go, Asami.

[Asami shoots Hei one last suspicious look before the two girls take off.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He's grateful when she doesn't argue. Even so, watching her hurry off with Asami is difficult. He wants to stay close, in case anything goes wrong. It's his only anchor. But necessity trumps any and all protective sentiment. There was no reason to linger here and every reason not to. ]

[ He only hopes -- watching her and Asami safely clear the melee, two dark heads swishing past the entrance -- that she understands he is there for her and her alone, fighting only so she can fight, existing here only so she can exist. ]

[ Then he is running the other direction, blades and wires ready, plunging into the heart of the battle, the roar deafening him even as the hot surf of adrenaline provides the Reaper a clear path to the surface. ]

[candothat]

[There isn't time for Chekov to be confused when his molecules reassemble on what appears to be a battlefield. He instinctively drops to the ground--not bravest course of action, but projectiles and debris are flying through the air, it's dark, and the lieutenant knows better than to fling himself blindly into a fray.

Blindly being the operative word. Some kind of orange light flickers nearby, but it's nothing compared to the bright white of the Enterprise's transport room. The eighteen year-old reaches for his phaser as he wills the dim shapes around him to resolve themselves into something recognizable. His training tells him that he shouldn't draw his weapon before taking stock of his situation. The imminent threat of death, however, overrides rules and regulations; the Prime Directive is remarkably unimportant in the midst of explosions, incoherent yelling, and--

Lava?

Chekov scrambles to his feet as the ground begins to shake, roil, and crack. All he can do is hope that he's dashing to safety instead of a different kind of death.

The explosion directly in front of him kills that hope. Earth and rocks pelt him in the wake of the explosive boom and he tucks his head and limbs in close to minimize the chances of injury. There's no time, no time for self-assessment, and Chekov is running again with his phaser drawn. If he's injured, slowing down to think about it isn't going to help him. He has to reach some kind of safety and hail the ship.

His eyes are adjusting to the dimly-lit nightmare in which he has found himself. He veers away from what appears to be the heart of the battle, away from lava and explosions and the cacophony of unintelligible voices--and right into an unyielding dark mass. The lieutenant tries to redirect himself at the last second and succeeds only in crashing to the ground, knees-first. Pain doesn't register. He has to keep going, has to see what he hit, and he rolls onto his back and brings the phaser to bear on the potential threat.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Teeth gritted, Hei has one slick hand flexed around the lavabender's throat, the other frantically reaching to regrasp the plunging knife-hilt. At his back something flashes; in a mad moment, he thinks it's more like a portal opening than another flare of lava. He has no time to think of it further, though. Ghazan tries to shake him off before he can dispense an electric shock. A pellet-full of rocks fly at him, grazing his arm and cheek; he is getting seriously singed. His opponent is losing his footing though. With the earth cracking open under them, spewing hot froth, Ghazan will probably be killed on impact within the chasm. But then so will Hei. ]

[ He can't let that happen. To come this far, only to die crisped and blackened like a five-style chicken-wing? ]

[ How fucking futile. ]

[ That is the idea in his mind until one of Ming Hua's watery tentacles snag his wrist. In a blink, he's wrenched off Ghazan, his blade skidding across the other man's arm in a slick red zigzag. Ghazan hollers in pain; the tentacle swings Hei up and snaps him, like a towel. Before Hei can let off an electric surge, he's flung away at breakneck speed. The blurred landscape of the battle flies past him before he drops, bones crunching on hot concrete. ]

[ Pain radiates through his body's meridians. But he refuses to focus on that. A breath, a few blinks, and he's back on his feet. Before he can rejoin the battle, though, he collides with something. Hei's clothes are dirt-and-blood-streaked, a very thin carpeting over solid adrenalized muscle. So there's no mistaking the thud as the two hard hurtling objects collide. The lighter of the two falls back. ]

[ Head tilted, Hei blinks once, then twice, as if readjusting his vision from dark to bright. At his sides, his fists clench and unclench, two throwing knives still gripped between his fingers. He eyes the newcomer for a long moment, his stare blank but focused, too. Suddenly he's not sure what he's seeing, or even where he is. It's been almost a year since he's seen that particular face, after all. ]

[ A moment passes. Finally, flatly: ]

What the hell are you doing here?

[ Not the warmest welcome. But given the circumstances, Hei's social finesse isn't at its best. ]

[candothat]

[Chekov's attention is drawn initially to the subtle movement of hands and the knives in their grasp, but that voice...

Hei. Although his words are in a language that the lieutenant can't understand (was his universal translator damaged?), he is instantly recognizable. Not a threat, his brain provides, and he lowers the phaser incrementally even though he knows that that isn't true.

Now is not the time to gawk or question reality. Chekov regains his feet and turns his back to Hei--too trusting, perhaps, but that is a personal flaw that he has yet to overcome--in order to assess the situation. It takes a split second for him to focus on a man and a woman, and only a breath longer to identify them as the most immediate threat. The Chekov that Hei last saw wouldn't have so much as considered shooting two unarmed (literally, in the woman's case) opponents. This Chekov, however, sets his phaser to stun and opens fire.

He can question Hei when they're not staring death in the face.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ This makes two people who have altered dramatically since they left the City. ]

[ Hei blinks as Chekov swivels to open fire on Ghazan and Ming Hua. Somewhere along the line, the boy's shed the hinkiness that seemed to claim him everytime he tripped and fell into a disaster-zone, and picked up the confidence he needs, which appears composed at least as much of his training as of his ability to fix on the pulsepoints of a crisis and take it apart with the same incisive quickness he handles machinery. ]

[ The phaser packs a nasty punch. Hei realizes, watching the laser slice through the air, that he's forgotten the neat effectiveness of firearms -- especially after a year in Korra's world. Ming Hua dodges the blast like a skittering spider. Ghazan, bloody and disoriented by Hei's earlier attack, is less lucky. ]

[ Hei watches him go down -- before he makes his move. A year ago, this would've meant leaving Pavel to fend for himself, and rejoining the conflict. Possibly stealing his phaser, to give himself an edge. Instead, he assumes the rearguard position. Lets Pavel cover his exposed flank, while he deals with the scurrying shape of Ming Hua, her water-tentacles like a whip-scorpion's legs, lashing at him with brutal speed. Hei dodges, a quick one-two-three, then lets fly a wire, aiming to snag one of her legs and bring her down with a sizzling blue volt. ]

[ He has questions to ask Pavel. He has concerns about Korra's safety. But it'll have to wait. No sense getting distracted. ]

[candothat]

[One down. The man should be out cold for an hour at the very least, provided he isn't accidentally killed before then.

Chekov falls into step, phaser ready should anyone else move to attack, keeping a wary eye on the woman with the water arms. Hei is as quick and merciless as ever, he notes with grim satisfaction; the woman is almost unnaturally fast, but he doesn't doubt that the assassin will be able to disable her.

He scans the area, dismayed to find that it's impossible to determine who he should consider an enemy when no one is directly attacking him. He also searches for Korra and Naga, fully expecting them to be nearby. It might be ludicrous to assume that they're around when he had thought that he'd never see them again, but Hei is present and the battle's participants are clearly benders. This has to be Korra's world, and so she must be around. The alternative is unthinkable.

It's best not to think.

Another woman catches Chekov's attention. Although she's not particularly close, the marking on her forehead and her combat-ready stance make her stand out. There's an uncanny correlation between the direction of her gaze and the explosions, but she has no weapons and, if she's bending, she's not doing so in a way that's apparent to him. No, she has to be controlling the explosions. She's well out of phaser range...

The lieutenant glances back at Hei and briefly considers abandoning his position to get closer, get a shot in. Briefly--loyalty inevitably wins out over heroism.

The woman with the mark on her forehead looks their way.

An instant later, a blast tears the air and earth in their vicinity apart.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The air flows with violent potential, both natural and extraordinary. But Hei is in his element by now, all thought dissolving into the heat of brutal instinct. Ming Hua whips a tentacle at him and he leaps off the ground. Knees tucked like a schoolkid playing skip-rope, letting it sweep under him. In the same breath he spins clockwise, still airborne, a wire in his right hand, crackling with electricity, spinning like the world's nastiest lasso. ]

[ Ming Hua's reaction is instantaneous and shows a vicious cunning: she brings a watery arm up to the right side of her face, turtles her shoulders, drops through her hips, and, most importantly, jerks back, beyond the arc of the wire. But Hei has anticipated this. Action beats reaction every time. Between the length of his arm, the length of the wire, and the force of his trajectory, he has more room to maneuver. He whirls, a mid-air pirouette, and the wire snakes around and lashes across her neck like a bullwhip. ]

[ Ming Hua spasms with a shriek, then drops; the electricity leaves an acrid reek in the air. ]

[ But there's no time for satisfaction. Hei's gaze cuts sideways, past the pale disc of Pavel's tense face, to P'Li. Who has them in her crosshairs. Two perfect bullseyes. ]

[ Shit. ]

[ Grabbing Pavel by the scruff of his neck, Hei swings a wire with his free hand. It snags a masonry-spire on a nearby building. In the next breath, he and Pavel are weightless, sail-planing, swooping through the bright murk of the air as a huge globe of fire detonates beyond them, juddering with a deafening roar as flaming umbrellas open in the sky, tinting the area every colour of red. ]

[ They tumble clear of the flying debris. Hei's limbs scramble for purchase, realigning his weight before they've even hit the ground. His eyes scan the terrain, a calculated 360 degrees, before concern digs in. ]

Where's Zaheer?

[ It's muttered to himself, not Pavel. Hell, he doubts the younger man can understand a word he's saying. ]

[candothat]

[As dreadfully undignified as being hauled around like an errant kitten is, it beats dying a fiery death. A slightly-singed (but otherwise intact, thanks to Hei) Chekov lands with less grace than the assassin, staggering a few feet after the jarring impact with the ground. He stays in an upright position and the phaser wasn't lost mid-flight, so he's willing to consider this whole mess a success thus far.

So much for an uneventful diplomatic mission.]

What are you looking for?

[Chekov asks the question in Russian. Pleasantries can wait until whatever danger they're in has passed.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The way Hei looks past Chekov is askew, his eyes trailing across the scenery, alert for threats. His nerves spit white-hot fire, and the space of his brain feels exponentially vast and open and boiling with darkness; energy crackles at his edges, but it seems to meld with the eruptions and the stamp and clang of battle. ]

[ It's a strange sensation. Feeling both intensely at home and impossibly on-edge. ]

[ When he glances at Chekov, it's with a perfectly blank face. (Adrenaline often exaggerates other peoples' expressions. Hei's, it irons flat.) The dialectal hybrid of Cantonese and Japanese, so common in Korra's world, is on the tip of his tongue, before he thinks Russian instead. ]

An airbender with a shaved head. He and his group are after Korra.

[candothat]

[There is something off about Hei. Then again, when is there not? Chekov dismisses his suspicions. It has been some time--nineteen months for him--and people inevitably change. There will be time to think about that later. Right now, it sounds as if Korra is in trouble.

Some things don't change.

Chekov acknowledges Hei's answer with a nod, eyes wide and expression serious, already searching for the target. There's no sense in admitting that he doubts he could identify an airbender on sight, as Hei undoubtedly realizes. A shaved head isn't that much to go on, but it will have to do.]

I'll follow your lead.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Something off? If asked, Hei wouldn't offer details. Reticence remains a cardinal aspect of his nature. Fuck, he privately wouldn't know where to start. Readjusting to a completely different world. Being involved in another war. Watching Korra defeat Unalaq and usher in a new spiritual era. Getting her pregnant. Watching her lose the baby. Staying on red-alert every moment for threats from the Red Lotus. His psyche is rusted by anxiety and fresh disappointment, his baggage like a rickety streamliner -- full of holes and crusted with filth. ]

[ He refuses to think about it. ]

[ He should be thinking about Chekov, and why he's here. The How bears less importance. He's well acquainted with the technology of the younger man's world. He understands Starfleet's mission statement. Dimly, he wonders if Enterprise is in the same dimension as Korra's, or if the two forked dimensions have accidentally converged. He worries, a coil of anxiety unleashing itself inside him, if they're all going to end up sucked back into the City. ]

[ He hopes not. Letting his mind loosen its grip on the What-Ifs and sink its claws into the Right-Now, he focuses on Chekov. The boy has a phaser. That, coupled with the element of surprise, may allow them to deflect the Red Lotus' attack. Push them into a retreat. ]

[ He slips a hand into his jacket. Draws out a laughably small platinum stick. Though only eight inches recoiled, when he flicks his wrist, it telescopes to six feet -- an interlocking series of pipes tipped with a sharpened sickle of diamond. He plans to shove the business-end into P'li's third-eye, if he gets close. ]

[ He glances toward the battlefield. The chaos tugs at an invisible string inside him. He can read its ebbs and flows like sheet music -- gaining brutal intensity as it surges to a crescendo. It's a moment before he spots Zaheer. Caught in a showdown between the Beifong sisters. Several yards off, P'Li blasts the metalguards to smithereens, creating an effective barrier of flying bodies and flames. ]

[ Finally, without looking over at Chekov, ]

We need to take out the Amazon. Be ready to jump in and distract her while I go for her Third Eye.

[candothat]

[Chekov, in some part of his brain that isn't caught up in the fight, has been contemplating how and why he is where he currently is. The odds of relocating Hei and Korra by chance are infinitesimally small. Perhaps being pulled to the City had a subtle effect on them on a quantum level, altering the rate at which their subatomic particles vibrate. Transporters are notoriously sensitive to even the slightest shift...

The collapsible weapon that Hei produces is impressive--not entirely unlike Sulu's katana. Hopefully it's just as sturdy.

He follows Hei's gaze. The man with the shaved head looks considerably less threatening than the woman who can make things explode, but there's something about him that sets Chekov on edge. He has a calm, confident air even as he fights--the air of someone who believes that what he is doing is right and has no intention of losing.

But the woman is the most immediate threat while the man is occupied. She's slower than the woman with the water arms had been; not so slow as to make stunning her with the phaser a wise move since missing would mean death, but Chekov would only need to be quick enough to avoid being killed.]

I can do that.