Entry tags:
love builds prisons
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.]
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.]
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What are you doing out here? [Shouldn’t you be hiding in your room?]
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[ Fuck. ]
[ Realization scalds him. His glare hardens, even as he flexes some of the anger out of his shoulders to say more quietly, ]
I'm not letting you leave the city.
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I'm just [looking for the bathroom] taking a walk. That's not a crime, is it?
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[ Right now, it's definitely sliding towards irritation. His gaze takes on a scalpel-like quality, as if he's trying to dig his way through her eyes and into her brain. But when he speaks, his voice is low, an appeal to her good sense. (As if that's ever worked.) ]
Korra. I know what you're trying to do. But you're in no shape to fight anyone right now.
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Like I said, I’m taking a walk. Not all of us are compulsive liars.
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[ Except Hei can't bring himself to buy that cold brand of Contractor-rationale. The loss of this unlooked-for baby has overwhelmed him, asking as it did questions he doesn't want to dwell on. Maybe he wasn't cut out for this? For being a normal person, for wanting to bring a life into this world when whatever he loves, being loved by him, is infected, ruined. Maybe it was a good thing the baby died? And maybe ... his recent distance from Korra was his way of trying to be rid of her, too? Leaving her, drifting away hour by hour ... Except she's the one who was supposed to realize it, and up and go. ]
[ He shakes it off. Looking at Korra now, all small querulous mouth and big burning eyes, he realizes that he can't drift away. Even if he wants to. The realness of her, the gravity-well of her presence, carrying its undertones of salt and heat-current... It anchors him in place. He won't be able to escape, without dismembering some part of himself in the bargain. ]
[ Keeping the conflict off his face, he maintains a level voice. ]
Then you won't mind if this compulsive liar walks with you.
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Fine. [Hardly the most graceful response, but she doesn't need to hide the fact that she's pissed at him. Maybe if she's bitchy enough, he'll get sick of it and leave. If not, she'll just have to use the Avatar state to incapacitate him.
She stomps, opening the door with metalbending, and storms out.]
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[ He drifts after her calmly, keeping his body-language neutral, non-threatening. Even so, he maintains a radius of space around him as if readied to draw a weapon, to turn with arms extended and lash, grab, defend -- in case she tries to make a break for it, or in case someone springs an attack on them. ]
[ A couple of beats pass, wreathed in tentative silence. Then: ]
How... how have you been feeling?
[ Physically. Emotionally. Part of him still feels sunk in the denial that the baby's dead and gone; he wonders what it's like for her, especially when she'd had to endure that brutal leavetaking, to suffer its intimate violence afterward. ]
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[ It is a flat, commonplace statement that makes Hei's blood thin with a sense of crippling inadequacy. But he can't seem to shape any better words. And even if he could... Well. There's nothing he could say that would make his behavior permissible, plausible, let alone a fact that she'd comprehend. It's not that Korra lacks the capacity to understand -- maybe she would, maybe she wouldn't -- but this kind of let-down isn't something you can brush off with a tepid I'm sorry. ]
[ Part of him is still amazed at how dizzied and sick and despairing the baby's loss has left him, at how desperately he'd wanted something that in fact he'd given no thought to before Korra had taken him aside and mumbled I'm pregnant. He hadn't so much as given an inkling to children or fatherhood in years and years. Once the whole irrefutable fact of who -- what -- he was had really settled into his psyche. ]
[ Once he understood, if only subconsciously, that some vital parts of him were well and truly dead. ]
[ He cuts his gaze away briefly. Inhales, and exhales. (Tells himself the ache in his chest, flowering sharper and darker each day, is exhaustion, not depression.) ]
[ Eventually, ]
I know... I should've been there with you. It was the worst possible time for me to fuck off. I just -- [ Didn't know how to face you. Didn't know how I could possibly be any help. With a dry swallow, he manages, ] I guess I was hoping it didn't really happen.
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Just another few meters to where Naga's waiting. If Naga can take him by surprise, she can knock him unconscious and they can get away before he wakes up.
Her stomach twinges. Don’t let it be cramps. Against her will, her hand goes up to cradle the distressingly saggy flesh of her stomach. Not yet flat — just empty.]
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[ For a moment, just a moment, he'd felt that lost child in his arms, alive and whole. Looking up at him out of Korra's blue eyes. Dainty and pretty like Pai had been, wrapped in her red blanket. He could smell that milky scent that would come off the top of her head, could feel the small hand clutch at his finger. The little mouth bubbling. All that warmth, cleaving to him, needing him. Needing the non-throat-slitting-blade-whetting-battle-scheming part of him. The part that is full of humanity. ]
[ He glances away, his face set in resistant lines. But he can feel something hot and wet trying to surface behind his eyes, so unfamiliar that he has to blink rapidly. Except his vision keeps blurring. Fuck this. Fuck this. He can't remember the last time he's cried like a milksop over a commonplace tragedy, and he doesn't want to start tonight, in front of Korra. Bitterly, vehemently, he wishes it were darker, so she can't fix on his face. ]
I know.
[ It's all he can manage past the hot fist in his throat. ]
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Then Naga leaps on him.]
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[ In his peripheral scope, he watches Korra's fingers twitch. He becomes aware of an ache in his jaw from the way he's clenching it. Cutting his gaze away, he lifts a brusque hand to wipe his face. Swallows and deliberately breathes in and out, in and out, trying to steady himself. A hundred jumbled thoughts are pinballing in his brain. ]
[ Which makes it easy for Naga to blindside him. ]
[ In a moment of detached disgust, Hei knows if he were himself, he'd have reacted more effectively. He'd have decimated the threat in an eyeblink. In that sense, the Polar Bear Dog is lucky. If his mind were in default mode -- the killswitch flipped off -- he'd have slit the beast's throat without hesitating. ]
[ Instead there's a hot brush of white fur. A sudden suffocating weight. He goes down like a sack of bricks, pinned by massive forepaws. ]
Ow. [ A spasm of pain jolts through him, bleeding quickly into anger. ] Dumb dog. Get off.
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She bends the water out of the flask on her hip — a decision she won't have a chance to regret — and uses it to freeze Hei's hands to the ground. Then she leaps onto Naga's back.]
Naga, go!
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[ He watches Korra leap on Naga and take off. And he can feel his psyche responding to his unconscious wish for more time, for a few more precious seconds to decide what to do, trying to weigh his body down. Except he refuses to let it. It isn't even a decision as such, more a reflex honed by a lifetime of combat and killing. A reflex that had been delayed by his unaccustomed emotional state, but that now, as he recognizes the rashness of Korra's decision, snaps ferociously into place. ]
[ A searing volt melts the ice in a fraction of a second. It takes him a fraction more to leap to his feet, one hand already launching the spring-loaded wire under his sleeve. It tangles like a lasso around Korra's ankle. When he lets off the jag of electricity, it is a brilliant crackle -- non-lethal, but nonetheless effective. A K.O dose. ]
[ She'll be furious with him when she regains consciousness. But he can't afford to let her get away. ]
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Naga growls and spins to a stop as Korra screams and she feels the girl pulled off her back by the wires. She bares her teeth, each one a pointed threat, and charges at Hei, ready to rip his throat out.]
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[ Hei's entire body floods with the acrid tide of instinct, his operative mind fully online again. He rolls beyond Naga's range, swiftly, cautiously -- aware of the animal's power, a single snap of those glistening teeth, the end of his world. ]
[ At an angle from the beast, he doesn't hesitate. Strikes out with a second wire, letting it snag one massive hind leg, before his eyes flash red, the electric shock piercing along the thin bridge between them and across Naga's fur and bones without prelude or delicacy. The air crackles with the scent of singed hair, and, below that, the reek of ozone. ]
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[ He closes the space between himself and Korra's prone body. His footfalls are soft in the burgeoning silence, his touch softer as he untangles the wire at her ankle, checks her pulse, scoops her up. He knows it was necessary to knock her out. But he can't repress a surge of remorse surfacing at the back of his throat like bile. Can't make the raw surface of his face harden. ]
I'm sorry.
[ She can't hear him, of course. But he hopes, when she awakens, that she'll give him a chance to explain himself. Hopes she'll understand that he can't let her head out alone. Not in her state. She's too precious to him to risk that way. ]
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[ But he doesn't. ]
[ Keeping Korra bundled close, he drifts at a steady clip toward the Beifong residence, not wanting to do anything out of the ordinary, anything that might suggest he's spotted something and is preparing for it. But he is preparing, the acidic tide of adrenaline leaking in, and as a plan unspools in his mind and the preparation lets his muscles ease into a deceptively innocent shape, and as the presence of danger and the certainty of how he needs to deal with it settles into place with an awful, familiar clarity, he has to acknowledge that he might be outnumbered, overpowered, defeated. ]
[ But there's no point in speculating. He wants them to tail him to a venue they'll find sufficiently dark, or isolated, or otherwise suitable for the business at hand, so they can do what they came for and depart. ]
[ But that's the problem with dark, isolated, and otherwise suitable venues, isn't it? Like tracer rounds, they work in both directions. ]
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A tentacle of water lashes out and grabs Hei by the neck, strangling him tightly before throwing him backwards.]
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[ Pinwheeling stars explode behind his eyes and abruptly his senses are filled with blood, its scent and taste, its drumming and surge. ]
[ Shaking the pain off, he tightens his grip around Korra, swinging his dizzied body away from the wall. At the same time he manages to get a grip around that watery noose around his neck, letting a sharp current arc across its length -- enough to fizzle it to steam, or hopefully, touch whoever is wielding the tentacle. ]
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