[Were she in a better mood, she might make a quip about him and his sweets. As it stands, she makes a few more attempts to rupture it- a cutting arc of fire, another pinpoint jet, even a broad flame in an attempt to heat the bubble into bursting. Nothing.
Finally, she pulls the makeshift obsidian knife that she's been using in the wildlands and attempts to drive that into the bubble. It's completely unresponsive.]
( Shealtiel's voice comes through a little rough at that, as he's feeling even more trapped knowing that dreamotion wasn't working. To display it, he does it again now, light forming in his hands in blue rays until he's holding a dagger. The flash of him driving it into the bubble is bright, but all it does is send Shealtiel stumbling backwards, the bubble moving along with him, forcing him higher above the fountain. )
[...Frustrating. Weapons didn't work, fire didn't work, even Dreamotion didn't work-
Unless...
No. No. That's not an option. She suddenly narrows her eyes, lashing out with a fire whip. Predictably, it has no effect on the bubble, but it at least tethers it and she can pull it down against the side of the fountain. Ignoring the distastefully slimy sensation, she reaches out with her hand to brace it and hold it still as she drives a flaming kick into the bubble, then conjures a blade of fire and begins striking. Every strike bounces off uselessly.
Not. An. Option.
As her strikes become more and more vicious, she finally loses her grip on the bubble entirely, and it begins drifting again.]
[No. She can't. She can't. She snarls in frustration, tracing broad circles in the air with her fingertips to gather power. As sparks of electricity begin to emanate from her fingertips, tracing glowing circles in the air, she suddenly extends her arm and fires a bolt of lightning at the bubble.
It absorbs it. Like it was never there. She might as well have tried to electrocute the moon.
You know the solution.
She feels her heart racing, her breathing increasingly erratic, and holds out a hand.
Just accept it. It's all you are.
She grits her teeth, ignoring the mocking voice in her mind, as blue-black smoke begins coalescing in her hand, a long, narrow shape-
Still can't even use the real thing. Only nightmares. It's a matter of time before you turn again.
Shut up, shut up-
The form in her hand coalesces- the humble spear, clearly too tall for Azula, the one Shealtiel has seen her use a handful of times before.
-She fumbles desperately, too weak and in too much pain from her damaged arm to grab Shealtiel's spear. Leshy ignores her entirely, turning toward the new threat-
She braces it solidly, hefts it-
-She sees Leshy's effortlessly overpowering Shealtiel, laughing off the knife wound he inflicts and she hears the mocking voice of the younger Azula. "Hasn't she hurt you enough?" The words stab at her. It was her. It was always her. Leshy wasn't even here. There was no Leshy in this place, it was just another evil, monstrous, soulless part of her-
-and after a momentary pause, she strikes the bubble.
-She doesn't remember anything after she sees Leshy's hands go around Shealtiel's neck, she just remembers blind panic and desperate rage and the screaming agony in her arm as it was suddenly forced into action-
It bursts instantly, like a big sticky balloon, and the dream gum evaporates into the air, freeing Shealtiel and leaving Azula panting and holding the spear.]
[...but it worked. She'd saved him. From your own failure. She failed to protect him, and she failed at this. You'll always fail at this.
-In desperation, he swings the butt of the spear at her, but she catches it easily, wrenching it sideways with unnatural strength, and it's all he can do not to lose his grasp-
The spear tumbles from her shaking hands, and her hands clench into fists again.]
... You're welcome.
[It comes out as a shaky, uneven snarl, her eyes wide and frantic, and she suddenly turns and stumbles off, leaving the spear abandoned at Shealtiel's feet.]
( It's a little frightening being stuck in a bubble with Azula throwing all of her attacks at you as she grows angrier and angrier. He can keep that much to himself, staring on quietly and not doing much to show it. But the spear gets him to blink in brief surprise, and before he can even register his feelings on it, the bubble pops.
Her dreamotion? )
Waugh—!
( He falls the short distance, his flailing in the air working just enough to send him practically onto his face, narrowly dodging the fountain of dream magic gum he'd been floating so near. His legs hover in the air for a moment before flopping over, and his body falls with it, leaving him on his back staring at the sky. )
( The spear clatters just at his feet, and he shifts to sit up quickly, one hand lifting to grab at his head as the other reaches for the spear. It's... the same one she'd used in that dream? To help him against that monster. )
Azula, wait!
( Of course he wanted to thank her. But why was she leaving?! He takes a step or two after her, but if she continues to move away, he feels too frozen to follow past that. )
( She won't even look at him. The realization makes his stomach sink a little, and he ignores the tight, knotting feeling that comes with it. )
...Are you leaving again?
( His voice is a little softer. Not just leaving him here, right now, but... not going to the tree house? His eyes drift down to the spear in his hand with nowhere else to look, tracing the pattern of it over. )
She slowly turns back toward him, trying to will away the tears that were already coming again- when did she get so volatile, so pathetic, she hates it, she hates-]
...It hardly seems wise for me to stay.
[The aggression has fled her voice now, leaving it quiet and shaky, with only a thin trace of its usual harsh edge.]
[The sudden insistence, admittedly, startles her a little.
Part of her wants to snap back. Part of her is screaming to keep walking away, to ignore him, to stop inflicting this on him. Part of her- a surprisingly strong part- is thinking about the answer to her question, about the misery, the isolation, the desperate feeling of abandonment-
Not that she cares, of course-]
I can't even manage to avoid using Dreamotion.
[She could have, of course, could have left him. It wasn't her job to help him, somebody else surely would have-
No. No. She'd rather see the entire place burn again-]
[She wheels on him as she snaps- in desperation, in rage, she doesn't know. She can't even tell anymore, she just can't bear the sudden clenching discomfort in her stomach anymore, the blind panic, the tension-]
I will not lose control again. I am Azula. I don't lose control. I don't make mistakes. I don't allow my hand to be forced. I don't-
[The boasts trail off after a few moments, her breathing ragged, her heart racing, and when she talks again, it's shaky, her voice harsh and uneven.]
( "I don't make mistakes?" These expectations for herself... explain a lot. But what can he possibly do about it? The guy who makes mistakes constantly? Who is one giant mistake? )
I'm not as fragile as a human. You didn't kill me.
( Sure, he could have died, maybe... But it doesn't bother him right now. Not even with his leg as bad as it is. But... what else can he say? He doesn't know. He has to think on it. )
( He snaps back, this time, the complex emotions twisting into anger as they usually do with him. He's been better with it lately, but sensitive topics always seem to bring up so much strong emotion that it's suffocating, confusing. He gets upset, and he gets angry. A defense.
He doesn't know how to express his full thoughts here properly. Not yet. )
[It slips out reflexively. Uncontrolled. Sloppy. She realizes, after a moment, that her vision is blurring with tears, that her breathing is harsh and her heartrate is spiking again. She tries to tame it, tries to control the breathing, to restrain the tears, ignore the clenching sensation in the pit of her stomach, but it's like she has no control- her own body betraying her, her emotions betraying her, again, it's infuriating-]
( The tears, combined with the anger... Shealtiel doesn't know how to deal with it. He stays in place, refusing to run like he normally would, but he doesn't have the ability to step forward. It feels like he has no place to. Like he shouldn't.
Something aches in his chest at the sight, but even when he parts his lips, he can't come up with anything to say. )
Was it fear? Anger? Contempt? She can't even tell. She just knows that look makes everything even worse, makes control slip further from her grasp, and she's supposed to be better than this, she's Azula, why can't she-
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Finally, she pulls the makeshift obsidian knife that she's been using in the wildlands and attempts to drive that into the bubble. It's completely unresponsive.]
...Have you tried Dreamotion?
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( Shealtiel's voice comes through a little rough at that, as he's feeling even more trapped knowing that dreamotion wasn't working. To display it, he does it again now, light forming in his hands in blue rays until he's holding a dagger. The flash of him driving it into the bubble is bright, but all it does is send Shealtiel stumbling backwards, the bubble moving along with him, forcing him higher above the fountain. )
1/3
Unless...
No. No. That's not an option. She suddenly narrows her eyes, lashing out with a fire whip. Predictably, it has no effect on the bubble, but it at least tethers it and she can pull it down against the side of the fountain. Ignoring the distastefully slimy sensation, she reaches out with her hand to brace it and hold it still as she drives a flaming kick into the bubble, then conjures a blade of fire and begins striking. Every strike bounces off uselessly.
Not. An. Option.
As her strikes become more and more vicious, she finally loses her grip on the bubble entirely, and it begins drifting again.]
2/3
It absorbs it. Like it was never there. She might as well have tried to electrocute the moon.
You know the solution.
She feels her heart racing, her breathing increasingly erratic, and holds out a hand.
Just accept it. It's all you are.
She grits her teeth, ignoring the mocking voice in her mind, as blue-black smoke begins coalescing in her hand, a long, narrow shape-
Still can't even use the real thing. Only nightmares. It's a matter of time before you turn again.
Shut up, shut up-
The form in her hand coalesces- the humble spear, clearly too tall for Azula, the one Shealtiel has seen her use a handful of times before.
-She fumbles desperately, too weak and in too much pain from her damaged arm to grab Shealtiel's spear. Leshy ignores her entirely, turning toward the new threat-
She braces it solidly, hefts it-
-She sees Leshy's effortlessly overpowering Shealtiel, laughing off the knife wound he inflicts and she hears the mocking voice of the younger Azula. "Hasn't she hurt you enough?" The words stab at her. It was her. It was always her. Leshy wasn't even here. There was no Leshy in this place, it was just another evil, monstrous, soulless part of her-
-and after a momentary pause, she strikes the bubble.
-She doesn't remember anything after she sees Leshy's hands go around Shealtiel's neck, she just remembers blind panic and desperate rage and the screaming agony in her arm as it was suddenly forced into action-
It bursts instantly, like a big sticky balloon, and the dream gum evaporates into the air, freeing Shealtiel and leaving Azula panting and holding the spear.]
3/3
-In desperation, he swings the butt of the spear at her, but she catches it easily, wrenching it sideways with unnatural strength, and it's all he can do not to lose his grasp-
The spear tumbles from her shaking hands, and her hands clench into fists again.]
... You're welcome.
[It comes out as a shaky, uneven snarl, her eyes wide and frantic, and she suddenly turns and stumbles off, leaving the spear abandoned at Shealtiel's feet.]
1/2
Her dreamotion? )
Waugh—!
( He falls the short distance, his flailing in the air working just enough to send him practically onto his face, narrowly dodging the fountain of dream magic gum he'd been floating so near. His legs hover in the air for a moment before flopping over, and his body falls with it, leaving him on his back staring at the sky. )
2/2
Azula, wait!
( Of course he wanted to thank her. But why was she leaving?! He takes a step or two after her, but if she continues to move away, he feels too frozen to follow past that. )
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He calls her name, and-
"Azula! Come back! Come back, please!"
The memory- the similarity- makes her freeze for a moment.
She should ignore him. She should leave. She should just go.]
...what?
[It's snarled, aggressive. She doesn't turn around.]
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...Are you leaving again?
( His voice is a little softer. Not just leaving him here, right now, but... not going to the tree house? His eyes drift down to the spear in his hand with nowhere else to look, tracing the pattern of it over. )
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That wasn't the question she expected.
She slowly turns back toward him, trying to will away the tears that were already coming again- when did she get so volatile, so pathetic, she hates it, she hates-]
...It hardly seems wise for me to stay.
[The aggression has fled her voice now, leaving it quiet and shaky, with only a thin trace of its usual harsh edge.]
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( He snaps a little at that, fingers curling around the spear. )
Do you want to leave? ( I'll be alone. ) Or are you just afraid?
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Part of her wants to snap back. Part of her is screaming to keep walking away, to ignore him, to stop inflicting this on him. Part of her- a surprisingly strong part- is thinking about the answer to her question, about the misery, the isolation, the desperate feeling of abandonment-
Not that she cares, of course-]
I can't even manage to avoid using Dreamotion.
[She could have, of course, could have left him. It wasn't her job to help him, somebody else surely would have-
No. No. She'd rather see the entire place burn again-]
...I won't risk a second incident..
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( He places his free hand over his chest, then holds out the spear. )
You shouldn't hide away just because you might be a danger to someone some day. If that was the case, I should never have been allowed to live.
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[She wheels on him as she snaps- in desperation, in rage, she doesn't know. She can't even tell anymore, she just can't bear the sudden clenching discomfort in her stomach anymore, the blind panic, the tension-]
I will not lose control again. I am Azula. I don't lose control. I don't make mistakes. I don't allow my hand to be forced. I don't-
[The boasts trail off after a few moments, her breathing ragged, her heart racing, and when she talks again, it's shaky, her voice harsh and uneven.]
I could have killed you.
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I'm not as fragile as a human. You didn't kill me.
( Sure, he could have died, maybe... But it doesn't bother him right now. Not even with his leg as bad as it is. But... what else can he say? He doesn't know. He has to think on it. )
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I managed to stop myself. What if I turn again? What if next time it's worse?
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( He snaps back, this time, the complex emotions twisting into anger as they usually do with him. He's been better with it lately, but sensitive topics always seem to bring up so much strong emotion that it's suffocating, confusing. He gets upset, and he gets angry. A defense.
He doesn't know how to express his full thoughts here properly. Not yet. )
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[It slips out reflexively. Uncontrolled. Sloppy. She realizes, after a moment, that her vision is blurring with tears, that her breathing is harsh and her heartrate is spiking again. She tries to tame it, tries to control the breathing, to restrain the tears, ignore the clenching sensation in the pit of her stomach, but it's like she has no control- her own body betraying her, her emotions betraying her, again, it's infuriating-]
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Something aches in his chest at the sight, but even when he parts his lips, he can't come up with anything to say. )
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Was it fear? Anger? Contempt? She can't even tell. She just knows that look makes everything even worse, makes control slip further from her grasp, and she's supposed to be better than this, she's Azula, why can't she-
"Sooner or later-
No.
they all realize what you are-"
Shut up-
"Then they-"
Shut up shut up shut up shut-]
Well? Say something!