|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 13, 2022 0:52:56 GMT -5
“Your father’s position?” Sal asked quietly, and this time he didn’t need to take the edge from his voice, because it wasn’t there. It was still choppy and hard to imagine, but the situation Zuko was describing…it was coming together. Sal just wasn’t sure he liked the picture it was making. “Maybe,” he admitted, looking away. “I don’t know if it happens or not. But the point is, you got thrown out for wanting to save lives. I don’t understand how you could have deserved that.” He had more questions than he knew how to ask, but he resisted the urge to ask them all. It would probably be better to just try to take it slow, one thought at a time. “So…your uncle let you in. So I guess he came with you to whatever House it was. And you were banished. But…the thing that’s confusing me is what you’re doing now. I mean, I don’t know how recently you were banished, but why spend so much time and energy chasing the Survivor if you don’t even like how things are run?”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Feb 13, 2022 0:59:55 GMT -5
“I mean first of all, the Survivor would probably try to kill me if he met me no matter what I believed. I was noble, and there’s nothing he hates more than a nobleman. But…” Zuko trailed off, shoulders hunching as he tried to figure out how much to share. How much Sal actually wanted to hear. He had a feeling it wasn’t much - why would he want to waste his time and energy with the feelings of a nobleman? “It wasn’t about the lives,” Zuko admitted after a moment. “I mean… I doubt anything I could have said would have persuaded them, but… it was about the disrespect. I spoke out of turn. I dishonored the lord whose idea it had been, and I dishonored…” he trailed off again, swallowing back the rest of his words. “It’s… complicated. But I can go… I can go home if I capture or kill the Survivor.” Zuko swallowed, hating how small the words sounded even to his own ears. “I don’t agree with how the Survivor is doing things. And I don’t agree with the Lord Ruler either. If I go home, I can try to fix things there.”
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 13, 2022 1:09:59 GMT -5
Sal blinked, trying to wrap his head around the words. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any concept of honor, because he did, but not the way Zuko seemed to. He didn’t know why speaking out of turn would dishonor someone. Or, no, that wasn’t quite true. He did understand. But he hadn’t thought that rule applied to the nobility, too. Did they punish each other for it like they did the Skaa? If Zuko was telling the truth, then apparently that was exactly what they did. “The Survivor…no one ever said he was the ideal solution here,” he admitted quietly, glancing away as though he could make the words sound less like a betrayal that way. “Of course it would be better if we could all just stop. If the nobility could stop mistreating the Skaa, and the Survivor could stand down and stop his attacks, but we’ve all tried asking nicely. No one listens until their life’s at stake.” He shook his head a little. That was another conversation entirely, and not one he wanted to start just yet. “Okay. So, finding the Survivor is your way home. But you’re just one person. If asking them not to kill us got you banished, then how are you going to fix things even if you do get back?”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Feb 13, 2022 1:32:11 GMT -5
“You think he’s a good enough solution that you’re willing to die to protect him,” Zuko said after a moment, searching Sal’s eye. If he hadn’t been born noble, would he believe in the Survivor? If he weren’t likely to be one of his targets, would they have made good allies? He shoved that thought from his mind. It didn’t matter. The Survivor was an enemy, and he needed to bring him home. He needed to make an example of him so he could start trying to change things from inside. “I’m one person,” Zuko agreed, voice quiet. He winced as he tugged at a particularly tender piece of skin on his wrist, then forced them back down into his lap. He could be sentencing himself to death here, but… it felt like a time for truth. Besides, if Sal spoke out, who was actually going to listen to him? “But I might be the only person who might be able to make a difference without a whole lot of bloodshed.” He was just wasting time now. “You really want to know which House I’m from?” Zuko asked in a hoarse whisper.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 13, 2022 1:49:44 GMT -5
“That doesn’t have much to do with how good I think he is,” Sal replied quietly, looking away. “It has more to do with the fact that he’s the only real chance I can see here. There’s been a rebellion for about as long as there’s been a need for one. But it’s like hoping to kill a Koloss with a stick. I’m willing to die to protect him because he’s our one shot at this. If you’d ever heard him talk - “ He broke off, swallowing that back. It wasn’t important. He was missing something, and he had a feeling Zuko knew exactly what it was. He looked up slowly, searching his expression, trying to decide if he wanted to know after all. “I want to know,” he said finally. He couldn’t imagine what answer would make Zuko so reluctant to say it. But he wanted to find out.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Feb 13, 2022 1:57:20 GMT -5
“Do you have my bracers, or did you sell them?” Zuko asked suddenly. He normally charged the metal he was planning on using for Allomancy, but he kept the bracers charged as well, in case he ever needed to just use Feruchemy. He couldn’t help but hope that Sal had kept them. Not only would it be useful proof, but he wouldn’t have to build up all that warmth all over again. He hated the cold, especially with winter drawing near. “I just… it doesn’t matter but I guess I want them back, if you have them. Not now, but… eventually.” Or now, if Sal wanted proof, but he didn’t think the other boy would trust him with them until he set him loose. Which still seemed like a stupid idea. Zuko wasn’t going to stop chasing him just because they’d had this time together. Just because Sal had been nice. My father…” Zuko faltered again, wishing the words would just order themselves on his lips without him having to take the effort to make them sound right. “I’m heir to Scadrial.”
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 13, 2022 2:13:20 GMT -5
“What?” Sal blinked, startled at the question. He hadn’t actually sold the bracers, though he’d told himself he’d get around to it eventually. Maybe when the rest of the money ran out, or he had a better chance at not getting caught doing it. “I have them,” he told him, more than a little bit reluctantly. “But I can’t make any promises. There’s not much money left, and buying things is safer than stealing them.” He wasn’t sure what he’d do when Zuko healed. A part of him wondered if he’d just take off in the middle of the night, and let Zuko do whatever he wanted when he woke up in the empty room. It wouldn’t have been his first choice, but nothing about this was his first choice, and it might be the safest one. He didn’t move. Whatever Zuko was about to say…it was clearly not easy. He looked like he was about to change his mind and end the conversation right there. And then he got it. “You don’t have a House,” he whispered. “You’re the son of the Lord Ruler.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Feb 13, 2022 2:26:08 GMT -5
“Oh,” Zuko replied after a moment, voice hardening a little as he tried to shove back the emotion. It didn’t matter if Sal sold the bracers. He would get new ones somewhere, and he’d spend a few days shivering until they were just as full as the ones Sal had taken. There were only a couple of items that were important to Zuko. His swords, of course, the Blue Spirit mask he had taken from his mother’s room before it had been cleared out after her disappearance, and the bracers. If he had to let one of the items go, though, it was the bracers. At least those were mostly replaceable. It was easier to think about the bracers than it was about his father. About how Sal was going to react, because the divide between them was even bigger than the other boy had thought. “In the flesh,” he replied after a moment, pulling his good leg up to his chest. “You sure you don’t want to try out that sword you don’t know how to use?” There was dry humor in his voice, but something deep down was wary. This could very easily be the moment his life ended. It all depended on how Sal reacted.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 13, 2022 2:38:01 GMT -5
Sal didn’t want to sell the bracers. He probably should have done it already, but now… They were still enemies. Maybe they had a truce for now, but it was to keep them both safe from each other. It would end the moment Zuko’s leg was healed enough to walk on. And it didn’t matter anymore, anyway. Because Zuko wasn’t some noble boy trying to move his House up the ranks by killing a myth. Zuko was the second most important person in…well. Anywhere, as far as Sal knew. And somehow, he’d ended up sitting on some random Skaa boy’s bed, living off semi legal bread and whatever else could be found. No wonder he hasn’t wanted to say anything. If Sal had blamed him for the way things were before… “He banished his own son?” He said quietly. There were too many things he wanted to say for him to tell if that’s what held meant to say, but it was out there now.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Feb 13, 2022 2:48:52 GMT -5
Zuko glanced away, turning his scar as much out of view as he could. He lifted a hand up to it, gently feeling the ridges where the skin hadn’t healed properly, the toughness of the skin, the way it felt like it should still hurt even though it had been years since he was burned. “My uncle’s men told me killing the Survivor or even capturing him was an impossible goal. They said it was a death trap, and… and maybe they’re right. Maybe my father sent me to do something impossible because he doesn’t actually want me back. But it’s the only thing I can do that might make some sort of difference. If I can go home, then… then I can help.” The words sounded pitiful even to him, but he wasn’t going to just give up. “I don’t know if my father will pass anything on to me. I’m not…” if Zuko could have gotten up to pace, he would have.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 13, 2022 3:06:01 GMT -5
Sal watched quietly, taking in the way Zuko’s thoughts seemed to turn back to his scar. It was like…this conversation was reminding him of it, somehow. He’d ask, maybe. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Zuko has already given him a lot more to work with than he’d probably earned. He wasn’t going to pry when he knew too well what it felt like to be on the other side of it. “And that’s what you need me for,” he said quietly. “Because I know where he is. Which makes it a lot more possible to get him and go home.” He still couldn’t lead the way. Even if Zuko had the best of intentions…the Survivor was hope. He was leading a rebellion that had an actual chance of working. And no matter how much Zuko wanted to help, Sal couldn’t sacrifice everyone else for that. He just couldn’t.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Feb 13, 2022 18:11:16 GMT -5
“Yeah,” Zuko managed after a long moment, looking up at Sal as he let out a breath. “I need you so I can go home. So… maybe I can try to change things. Eventually.” He shook his head a little, pulling lightly at a loose piece of skin on his wrist again. “I know you aren’t just… going to tell me,” he added, swallowing back any frustration he felt about that. They were coming at this from two very different sides. There were no perfect solutions., but both of them had latched onto one version of hope. For Sal’s hope to come to fruition, Zuko would have to give up his. For Zuko’s, Sal’s hope would have to die. “I’ve been looking for the Survivor for two years now,” Zuko murmured, lifting his gaze up once more. “You’re the best lead I’ve found. But when… if… I get out of here, I will find another lead.”
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 13, 2022 18:28:40 GMT -5
“He’ll kill you if you find him,” Sal blurted out, barely processing the words before they were free. He looked away, gathering himself before he could continue. So what if the Survivor killed Zuko? Wasn’t that the goal? To keep him safe? Sal ran from him to distract him, but he’d be able to do more if he was free from that job. But he hadn’t left him to die before, and it seemed he couldn’t do it now, either. “I’m just saying that…what makes you think another lead will help?” He tried again, carefully straining any trace of worry from his tone. Or at least trying to. “People are loyal to him, and when they’re not, he doesn’t tell them much. He has people working for him, too. What makes you think you’ll find someone willing to tell you where he is? Especially if you’re not willing to threaten them?”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 13, 2022 18:46:18 GMT -5
Somehow, the fire in Zuko’s voice didn’t ignite one in Sal this time. He waited for it, the heat from before that would turn this into an argument, but it didn’t come. Maybe it was because he understood better now. Maybe it was because the source of that fire wasn’t what he’d thought it was. They could have been on the same side, he realized uncomfortably. They were on the same side, in a way. Just not the one that meant they could work together. He didn’t answer for a long moment, his own thoughts pulling him in too many directions at once. And then he gave a quiet sigh and moved towards the bandages. “You can just say I suck at arguments,” he told him, a trace of flat humor in his voice as he approached the bed. “Trust me, I got that already. But if you’re going to teach me to swordfight, I might as well tell you that you’ll need a pretty foolproof plan if you ever catch up to him. Fair trade, or whatever.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 13, 2022 19:46:42 GMT -5
There were still things they’d have to talk about, eventually. Or maybe they wouldn’t…if Zuko healed and found another lead, then they’d probably never see each other again. Maybe this was as far as they’d get. He knelt by the bed and reached for Zuko’s wrist, holding the bandages in the other. Wounds like that, even small ones, could get infected fast if they were left alone, and Zuko wasn’t going to stop picking at them. “Oh yeah? What arguments were those?” He asked, keeping his voice as light as he could. He didn’t have a plan for Zuko to catch the Survivor, so he dodged the question, hoping Zuko wouldn’t press it too hard. Besides…he wasn’t really about to start helping Zuko plan for something he wouldn’t allow to happen
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Feb 16, 2022 5:35:44 GMT -5
Zuko’s eyes narrowed as Sal approached, though he knew perfectly well that Sal wasn’t going to attack. If the boy had wanted to attack, he could have easily done it a million times by now. If Zuko had wanted to attack… he could have done that a number of times now, too. They were at a sort of stalemate, neither of them wanting to hurt the other, but both of them knowing that their worldview were entirely incompatible. It struck Zuko how young they both were to have been thrown into this. Zuko himself was only fourteen, and he got the sense that Sal wasn’t all that much older. Silently, Zuko offered his wrist to Sal, wondering how many times the other boy had been forced to patch himself up. It was a skill Zuko had needed to learn quickly as soon as he found himself out of Kredik Shaw. It was a dangerous world. It was best to learn how to survive. “Mostly that my father doesn’t actually care if I come home. That he wouldn’t have sent me if he wanted to survive.” Zuko fell silent for a few moments, gaze catching on the way Sal worked the bandages. “I can help,” he murmured, voice low as he looked at Sal.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 25, 2022 22:30:39 GMT -5
Sal couldn’t say it surprised him to hear that, though he knew enough about Zuko to guess why the argument had failed. He knew enough about how he felt, the desperation to fix the world, the need to be right about the Survivor… There were some things you couldn’t let go of, no matter how much they burned your hands. The Survivor had to succeed, because the alternative was too awful to consider. Was returning home the same way for Zuko? How similar could two people be before they weren’t opposites anymore? He began to patch up the wounds as best he could, using the bandages as sparingly as he dared. They didn’t have much left, and he guessed Zuko’s leg was going to need a little more care before it could be left to heal on its own. Between the two of them, the leg was the more serious injury, so it got priority. He glanced up, pulled from his thoughts by the quiet words. “I know,” he said finally. “Just…let me, yeah? It doesn’t matter. It’s just a scrape.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Feb 26, 2022 15:23:59 GMT -5
Zuko wished he had exactly the right words to bring Sal to his side. To make him see that the Survivor would cause more harm than good, to help him understand that the nobility weren’t all evil… but he was quickly learning that it was impossible to convince someone else of something he didn’t even believe entirely. He didn’t think the Survivor was the answer, but he wasn’t sure his father was either. He was lost, clinging to convictions that had made sense to him once. If he was on the right path, they would make sense to him again. “I hate this,” Zuko murmured, staring at the bandages instead of making eye contact with Sal. “I mean… I know how expensive bandages are.” He wanted to say that Sal shouldn’t be wasting them on him, but he had a feeling that would just invite another argument. Somehow, he didn’t want to argue with Sal anymore. Somehow, he wanted a world where their viewpoints could coexist. “What would the Survivor say if he found out you bandaged an enemy without even letting him help?” Zuko kept his voice light, trying to make it clear he wasn’t actually looking for an answer. He wanted Sal to know that he was grateful in spite of the other boy’s actions not making any sense at all.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 27, 2022 6:56:18 GMT -5
Sal didn’t want to look at Zuko again. He focused on the bandages, wrapping them as firmly as he could, because if they slipped off he’d have to do it all over again. He wished he could just hate Zuko. It would be so much easier if they were just enemies, and Sal could know he was only alive because he’d kept himself that way, with no one’s help. If they were on equal ground, if Zuko’s life hadn’t rested in his hands for as long as it had now, if they’d never spoken at all. It was so much simpler to imagine the war that way…two sides that would fight each other until one of them won. And here he was, bandaging the wrists of the enemy, close enough to be killed in a second. “Honestly?” He replied, glancing for a moment to search Zuko’s expression. “I think that ship probably sailed a while ago. The Survivor isn’t really…the sparing type.” He looked down again. “Anyway, since you’re such a great survivalist apparently, you know as well as I do that bandaging your own wrist isn’t easy. If you do a bad job, you’re going to use up more bandages.” He hoped his tone made his meaning clear. He didn’t have the advantage of a smile to soften the words, but the last thing he wanted was another fight.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Feb 27, 2022 16:09:45 GMT -5
While Zuko was aware that the Survivor killed Skaa sometimes when he thought they were guilty of colluding with noblemen, he hadn’t stopped to consider that even something like this could easily get someone condemned by the Survivor. It didn’t make sense. The Survivor was supposed to be a beacon of hope to these people, wasn’t he? How could he be when he would be willing to kill a boy just because he didn’t let an enemy die? “You’re just saying that because you want to prove you’re better at it,” Zuko quipped, keeping his voice light. He didn’t actually believe what he was saying, but it was much easier to be mockingly antagonistic with Sal than it was to be genuine. At least if he was playing at being rivals, he wouldn’t have to pay much attention to the fact that he was actually starting to like the boy. “Thanks,” he added after a moment, the word hard and unpracticed. He wanted Sal to know that he was grateful for the time and money he was spending to make sure Zuko didn’t die of some sort of infection from his own behavior. It wasn’t personal. It really wasn’t. “I think… if I had ended up like this in my father’s house, I would have had to deal with it on my own because I brought it on myself.” He pulled back as Sal finished up, withdrawing into himself. There was something that stuck with him about the fact that this Skaa boy who had every reason to hate him was kinder to him than his father. He was trying to convince himself it didn’t mean anything. He was trying to convince himself that kindness was nothing but weakness, that he would take advantage of it eventually to catch Sal unawares. He wasn’t going to admit to himself that he didn’t have it in him.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 27, 2022 21:06:55 GMT -5
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean I’m not better at it,” Sal tossed back, keeping his tone light, though he didn’t quite meet Zuko’s gaze. It was easier than thinking about what this meant…what everything had meant. Easier than admitting to himself that if the Survivor saw him here, it was entirely possible he would be killed. He didn’t want to make that assumption for sure…it wasn’t like he’d ever met him, or even seen him in action, besides one of those meetings he’d held when he was recruiting. But he had to admit that at the very least, there was no way he’d have approved. To be fair, it wasn’t like Sal knew how he felt about it, either. He pulled back too, pulling his hands back to his chest as he finished. There was no taking it back now. Not that this was exactly a defining moment when he’d already been taking care of Zuko for as long as he had. When he’d saved his life in the first place and gotten them into this. “That sounds like him,” he said finally. “The Lord Ruler, I mean. I get having him for a parent would probably be a little different, but…well. We’re all condemned forever because our ancestors weren’t his best friends. He didn’t exactly invent altruism, did he?” He shrugged. “But…you’re welcome. I get wanting help. Even if you don’t need it.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Mar 13, 2022 23:55:28 GMT -5
“Sure you are,” Zuko quipped, but he didn’t have any proof that Sal was wrong. In fact, he found it very likely that Sal was right. Zuko had needed to patch up a few of his own wounds in the past, but for the most part he had help. When he was young it had been medics and servants, and when he had first been cast out, it was Iroh. It hadn’t been long that he’d been completely on his own. He couldn’t help but wonder where Iroh had ended up. He wouldn’t abandon him without a word, no matter what Zuko did. No matter how hard he tried to push him away, because he knew that Zuko didn’t mean it, he never meant it… he curled in on himself, suddenly aware of how close Sal was. How dangerous this was, that they were so similar. That they could just talk like they were something other than mortal enemies. “Yeah, well… he made his friends the nobility,” Zuko whispered, swallowing back bitterness. “You’d think he’d have some sense of loyalty to his family, when they were loyal to him every moment of every day.” These were thoughts he shouldn’t have given voice to. Thoughts that could and would get him killed if they reached the wrong ears. Even the Skaa could be killed for speaking ill of the Lord Ruler… if it came out that his own son was spreading rumors and lies about him? That his son was trying to stir up revolution? Because that was how they would spin it. They would make Zuko a traitor. Although… maybe he already was one.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 14, 2022 23:56:52 GMT -5
Sal hadn’t always taken care of his own wounds. When he’d been little, his parents always had, and they’d decided it fairly equally between them. And afterwards…Sal had learned fairly quickly that he was on his own. He’d taught himself what he needed to know, and learned the rest through trial and error. And here he was. Using those skills on a noble boy, trying to help him get back to full strength…he looked up, eyes catching on Zuko’s face. Even sitting here, close enough for them to touch, felt reckless. As though even breathing the same air could poison them both. “You’d think,” he echoed quietly. Zuko did have a point. The Lord Ruler was cruel, but at least he was clear about what he wanted…as long as you followed his rules, he would allow you to live, most of the time. Not that Sal had nearly as much experience with him as Zuko did. Maybe not even that was true. It only struck him a moment later that it was the son of the Lord Ruler who’d pointed it out. The boy chasing the Survivor, the boy trying to kill hope, and the boy Sal needed to see as the enemy, but if he were honest… He wasn’t sure he did anymore. “Does he really take good care of them, either?” He said finally, forcing himself to look up again. “I mean…I’ve heard of the house wars that break out sometimes. Couldn’t he stop those if he really cared?”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Mar 22, 2022 23:01:35 GMT -5
“Huh?” Zuko asked, struck by Sal’s question. He wasn’t used to thinking of his father as a caring man - while there was no doubt in Zuko’s mind that his father did care, he didn’t tend to show it. Zuko could understand why. When you had lived so much longer than so many of the people around you, when you had shaped the world, when you had saved it from darkness, there was little point in showing human care and emotions to the people who should be worshipping you as a hero. It was just… hard to reconcile the father he knew with the legends, and even harder to reconcile the myth Ozai had created with the reality the Skaa faced on the streets. “I mean… yeah, I think he takes better care of the nobility than he does of the Skaa,” Zuko replied, shifting uncomfortably. “He gives them opportunities and power. They don’t go hungry. They don’t have to worry much about dying. And if there’s infighting among the Houses, then… well, my father doesn’t tend to stop it, because if he did it would imply that they’re too weak to fight their own battles. It’s about power. My father respects people that fight to gain it.” As he said it, he realized how ironic that sounded. The Skaa were doing little more than fighting to gain some semblance of power, and Ozai was determined to crush them. “I guess,” he amended, lightly running a finger over his bandages, “He respects people that fight to gain power if he thinks they’re the right sort of people.”
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 3, 2022 0:25:46 GMT -5
Sal didn’t think about the Lord Ruler all that much. It was odd to realize that. But Lord Ruler was such an impossibly large figure, such an impossibly daunting enemy, that it didn’t really seem to matter what Sal thought of him. He was just one Skaa boy, and if the steel ministry was to be believed, the Lord Ruler was a god. They were too distant to really influence each other directly. And here he was. Sitting across from his son. He should have felt afraid, but he mostly just felt…a little off balance. “Maybe he respects people who obediently play their parts in his perfect system,” he suggested, watching Zuko as he did. Was it more complicated than that? He was beginning to realize he didn’t actually know. That was how it felt to him, anyway. “I’m not saying the nobility don’t get special treatment,” he added, glancing away. “I’m just…saying it seems like he doesn’t really care about them that much. But…what do I know? I’ve never exactly talked to him.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Apr 3, 2022 17:33:51 GMT -5
“Oh,” Zuko replied, frowning a little as he thought about that. He hadn’t thought much about how obedience had to do with it. He had tried to be obedient most of his life, but he’d still ended up here. “I mean… the system isn’t perfect,” he murmured, shrugging and hugging his arms to his chest as though he could fix it just by admitting it. “But it’s the closest thing we have to perfect, and if anyone messes with it…” he blushed, realizing he was still defending his father. He didn’t think his father was wrong, necessarily, he just… Zuko bit his lip, trying to force the thoughts away. “He doesn’t really tell people how he actually feels about things,” Zuko admitted after a long moment. “I mean… he does, he tells them when they’re doing something wrong, but I don’t know a lot of the reasons behind why he rules like he does. He says it’s just common sense, but I think… my sense isn’t really that common, then.” He tried not to sound upset about that fact.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 3, 2022 17:50:08 GMT -5
Sal paused, one hand resting on the floor, the other against his knee as he listened. He was beginning to realize just how different their lives had been. How not only did Zuko take things for granted that he had to question, but that the same was true in reverse. “It seems pretty far from perfect from where I’m sitting,” he told him, but there was no malice in his voice. Not even an edge, really. “Look…I know it’s different since he’s your dad, and he’s just…kind of a concept for me. But I honestly don’t care how he feels about it. He could feel terrible about all the people he’s killed. Doesn’t make them any less dead. At the end of the day, he can feel as awful about it as he wants, but if he doesn’t stop, I’m still gonna go ahead and hate him. And I probably would even if he did stop, at this point.” He crossed his arms, suddenly aware of how dangerous those words could be, if they found the wrong ears. But, still…it wasn’t like Zuko could exactly report him, could he? “Yeah. See, the funny thing about common sense is that it tends to be common,” he added, resolutely meeting Zuko’s eyes. “And whatever else you can say about the Skaa, they’re technically the majority vote here. Common sense is not trying to eat a rock. You get any further than that, and it’s an argument you gotta actually defend somehow.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Apr 3, 2022 18:29:21 GMT -5
It was so easy to assume that the nobility had it easier than the skaa. Zuko knew that… he had seen how the skaa lived. He also knew it was easy to assume that the skaa were less intelligent or less deserving than the nobility, but Zuko had to question that now, though he never had before. The skaa had certainly proven themselves to be kinder than a lot of the nobility, though they didn’t have any reason to be. It would certainly be easier to be cruel - it meant that you would have more for yourself in a world where there wasn’t enough for everyone. But every assumption Zuko had made about the world had proven itself to be false. Sal was just one more factor in turning Zuko’s world upside down. Somehow, he couldn’t help but feel a bit grateful for him. “I know he’s done a lot wrong,” Zuko said after a moment, trying to keep his voice even. “I mean… at least in the eyes of the skaa. And I don’t like that there are so many skaa who have died. I wish I could say that I believed he didn’t know it was happening. I wish… I wish I could say I didn’t believe he had encouraged it. But… I can’t say he’s been a wholly awful leader. I can’t say I don’t think a lot of his ideas are right.” Zuko let that hang in the air for a moment. Sal wasn’t going to prove him wrong in one conversation. He wasn’t going to change his mind that any shift in power would cause more bloodshed than it would stop. “But…” he began, aware of the treason in his own words. He had already unintentionally committed treason… what was doing it again, but purposefully? He tried to shove away the feeling that it was enough to actually bring shame on his family and himself. “But I never thought about it that way. I never thought that he never actually tries to defend why he does things. He just… he says they’re right. And in a way… they work. But… but maybe there’s a way to do it better.” And, he thought, though the words didn’t escape his lips, maybe that means I don’t need to feel like a failure all the time.
|
|