cyclicality | Closed

ooc: The posts in here will take place shortly prior to part 2 of the plot.

A. Docks (Closed to Bumi) - The yelp is cut off all too quickly. The woman's pale hand snakes forward, impossibly fast, closing around the man's throat. She's strong -- too strong -- the momentum of it sends him crashing back against the wall, pinning him under her grasp. Her fingers press like daggers into the soft flesh at his jaw and around his windpipe. Her eyes are cold and black as stones.

He will not be leaving this encounter easily. If at all.

"The Avatar believes that you are capable of learning." Her gaze never leaves his face. "I do not."

B. Spirit Wilds (Closed to Mia) - The water of the former fountain twists in response to the footsteps, swirls. The Mother of Faces emerges from the depths, the great branches of her crown dripping.

She surveys the group -- two stone-faced men, each with a pouch dangling at their belts, holding onto a small, blue-haired girl. One hand lifts; the girl is released. Apparently the Mother has no concern about the girl running off.

"Mia." The name is greeting and question both. What exactly had she been doing?

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The waterbender was thoroughly confused.

Mia was no stranger to the Spirit Wilds. She'd practically made a point to explore it every day, perhaps in spite of the warnings that the deeper spots of it weren't always inhabited by the friendliest of spirits. She still came to explore and learn, to see if she could find new friends. And it had never once seemed dangerous to her. Never once.

And then the day came when the spirit vines had begun to creep forward into the rest of the city. And that... that was something new and newsworthy. According to the papers and common rumour, the last that had happened was shortly after Unalaq had ravaged the town. And it was perhaps for that reason why, perhaps against better judgement, Mia had gone into the Wilds yet again to find out what was going on. Wan would have chastised her for her going on her own, but so it had been.

And yet... she had met faces she'd never seen before. And they handled her brusquely. She hadn't tried to interfere directly, but she had blocked their way; she had questioned them and asked to know what they were doing in the Wilds, lest they be up to no good and interfering. And that had resulted in her being practically dragged by the arms deeper into the Wilds.

And then she's unceremoniously dropped off before a face that she does know, a face that she's familiar with.

But all in all, there's only confusion. And perhaps a few false conclusions.

The girl knows the Mother of Faces' more formal name, but she won't address her that way.

"Uma," she calls out to her, bemusement in her voice. "What's going on?"

Edited 2015-03-02 23:24 (UTC)

The Mother steps from her pool . . . and as she does so, shrinks, light shimmering around her form until she emerges, human at least in appearance. She approaches in silence, her eyes steady, the silk of her robes whispering around her.

"Perhaps it is best you are here," she says at last, quietly. "And not out with the others. The idea should have been my own. I am long unaccustomed to considering such things."

Not an explanation, by any means. But almost . . . any apology? Of sorts. Without the words that truly mark it.

Mia remains on her knees looking up to the Mother as she leaves her pool. There's an implicit trust about her, even if nothing makes sense to her. All of the context, all of the meaning behind the words that Uma has told her is completely missing, and therefore Mia just can't comprehend what's going on. Instead, all she can do is look up, just lost in this place despite being in a sea of familiar locations.

"Best I am here?" she manages to squeak. "You mean... instead of out where the vines are? Instead of the city? Why? What's going on? Why is all of this happening?"

The Mother of Faces was duly right in her lack of concern over Mia trying to escape. Despite the panic welling up within her, there's still an ounce of safety in this place and in her presence. She can't help but not trust the spirit before her.

"You are in no danger here." The Mother's hand lifts briefly, the backs of her fingers grazing the girl's cheek -- a gesture meant to calm, to soothe. "I would see you safe. You have done well by me . . . and the smaller spirits speak well of you. You are rare in this world -- rare in your kind."

"The city will soon not be safe for you."

The touch of the Mother's fingers at Mia's cheek is comforting. Mia almost can't help but close her eyes just a moment and focus on just breathing. It pushes those questions slightly further away, makes them slightly less important. She's still horribly confused, but the amount of trust and security in this moment helps alleviate those feelings.

But when the Mother says the city will not soon be safe, she opens her eyes, and there's a strong concern for people she knows. People she cares about.

She doesn't speak her trust, though she shows it. Her eyes look deeply into Uma's, and she won't run. But she still has to do something.

"If the city's in danger, I need to go tell people. People need evacuated. People need to be safe. Even if it's dangerous, I want to help them."

Bumi doesn't often find himself down by the docks all that often these days. What were once his usual stomping grounds have become his guilty pleasure. Before, when Tenzin was still around and about, Bumi could easily go and wile away entire days in the backroom of the Eelhound drinking rice wine and playing Pai Sho, not so much anymore. There just isn't time.

So every now and again Bumi makes time. Just to remind himself who he is.

It's during one of these times that he happens to hear the cry.
Rational people would run from such a sound, but Bumi's always been one of the crazy few that feels compelled to run towards such a thing.

Run towards while reaching for the dagger that he keeps in the interior breast pocket of his United Republic overcoat.
(What? You didn't actually think he'd steal away to go gambling in his airbender initiate robes, did you?)

"Hey," he calls out to break up the scene he's just intruded upon. "That'll be just enough of that."

Dark eyes flick to Bumi, take him in . . . and ultimately dismiss him. Her fingers do not move from the man's neck. He's a Triad member; his breath is quick, tight in his lungs, his hands braced around the woman's inexorable grip. His own eyes shift sideways as far as they can go in their sockets, trying to see Bumi His breath comes out in pants, gasps.

She reaches up with her opposite hand, touches his brow, and where her fingers connect with skin, light unfurls, blossoms. The light twists dizzily around the man's head and then fades. With it fades the man's consciousness, his eyes rolling back in his head as his weight slumps downward. The woman's hand withdraws, and he sags to the ground like a sack of wet sand.

The woman's face twists back over her shoulder to regard Bumi anew, her expression almost a challenge. Just what will he do now?

Bumi looks quickly from the woman to the man and then back again. He has no idea what she's done to him, or even if the man is still alive. The only thing he does know is that the woman isn't human.

"Why did you...that was uncalled for!"

Slowly he advances, knife still drawn but not raised in an offensive position.

"Back away."

Her eyes flick to the knife, which may not be offensively held, but which is offensive nonetheless. "You, who have just arrived and know nothing of this man's crimes, are in a position to judge?"

Her eyes return to the blade, further narrowing. "You will put your knife away. I will not permit it."

"And you're not in any position to be jury and executioner! Not here. Not like this. I said back away."

The knife clatters to the ground, but Bumi continues to move forward.

A shimmer of light gleams around the woman's form -- a warning. He may have dropped the knife, but he is still advancing, and this will not be permitted. "I will not. You will stop immediately and hold your ground."

His pace slows to a stop. Bumi's careful to keep his hands raised in a surrender-style position, though there's no disguising the agitation in his voice.

"Regardless of what he's done, that man needs a healer, and I'm going to take him to one."

Closed

Gee, I guess I'll pick B.

Good choice! ;P

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A is for Airbender, that's good enough for me!

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