Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 7, 2021 23:43:07 GMT -5
Zuko didn’t know if he was cruel or not. He had done cruel things, things that weren’t intentionally cruel but had come across that way, and even things that were intentionally cruel. He knew he would have lost the part of him that cared if he had stayed with his father and sister for too long. He knew he would have lost the part of himself that Ursa had fostered, that Iroh had protected. He had tried to deny it for so long, but… Sal had seen it, somehow. Others here had seen it… Zuko had tried for so long to pretend it didn’t exist. It had hidden from him in the same place as the love and support of the people around him. It was there, he just… couldn’t see it. Couldn’t hold onto it. “I see how it is,” he replied lightly, an almost-smile flicking across his face as he entered the hallway and turned back to wait for Sal. “That way you can blame me if it all goes wrong.” He was joking, mostly. When he picked the door, his hand landed on the handle, and he pulled it open. With a small dip of his head towards Sal, Zuko stepped inside, propping the door open for his friend.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 8, 2021 0:07:17 GMT -5
Sal had seen him. Somehow, he’d seen him, even if he hadn’t known what all it meant…he had seen it. And he hadn’t been able to forget that, even when he’d had to really wonder. Now…he was glad he hadn’t completely given up on Zuko. He had been afraid, but he hadn’t given up. He shook his head a little, a small smile flicking across his own face. “Yup. You caught me,” he replied lightly. “That was my plan all along.” He shook his head and ducked inside. And was met with…dark. Mostly dark. It was hard to say, but… Did he smell smoke? “Zuko?” He asked cautiously. He didn’t see the other boy…he didn’t see anyone else, actually. Was he… On a stage?
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 8, 2021 1:14:54 GMT -5
There were people. Lots of people, from the sound of it…a crowd, roaring for attention. Sal turned, trying to see them, but their faces were hard to look at, hard to focus on. It was like trying to look at the people in the background of a movie, almost. He could see they were watching him. He just didn’t understand why. He couldn’t see Zuko. Couldn’t even sense him, feel his presence…he was alone in the worst sort of way, the deeper way that meant the crowd’s presence made it worse, not better. He hoped he’d just…blinked out. Not gone somewhere worse. Even if it meant Sal had to face whatever was happening here on his own. He turned as a figure stepped out, into focus…and froze. “Dad?” He asked, startled. He hadn’t recognized him for a moment…he was certain that his father had never worn that expression before. Or if he had, he had at least never looked at Sal with it. “You can’t be here,” he murmured, stepping back, uncertainty on his face…his face. He reached up, feeling for his prosthetic. It was gone. Panic stabbed through him, but he registered something else a moment later. The skin under his fingers was smooth. He could feel his mouth and there was no ragged gap. He didn’t have his prosthetic because he didn’t need it.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 8, 2021 1:24:18 GMT -5
It was odd, seeing Sal’s father in place of Ozai. Seeing Sal in his own place, a few inches shorter, a few years younger. There were so many things wrong with this situation… Zuko didn’t know how to fix it. He stayed where he was in front of Sal, his shoulders tense and his body ready to do whatever it needed to protect his friend. “Leave him alone,” he told the blue haired man, his words trembling with a combination of fear and anger. He remembered standing in Sal’s position just over three years before. He remembered thinking that he was prepared for an Agni Kai. He remembered the moment when he decided that he would not fight his father. That he would stop the Agni Kai before he had to, because Ozai was his father, and he deserved respect. “Run, Sal,” Zuko added, his voice harsher than he meant it. At least it conveyed the urgency. Or rather… it would, if anyone could hear him. “Sal, run!” Zuko screamed, his voice more of a plea than anything else. “Please! Get out of here, get…” “It wasn’t just the general you dishonored,” Sal’s dad cut in, breaking through Zuko’s words as though he wasn’t there at all. As though there was noise drowning him out in the slightest. “It was me. It was your family.” Zuko let out a soft, pained gasp as the words wormed themselves free, as he felt them stick in his chest when he was a child. They had never left, just created gaping scar that had never healed properly. He had thought he was beginning to heal now, but he was back in the thick of it, taking the pain of it as though he could shield Sal from it at all. Zuko heard more than saw Sal’s dad create the flame in his palm. It wasn’t the one that had burned away half of Zuko’s face, but he knew how this went. Even if there were different players, the House hadn’t changed the moves they made.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 8, 2021 1:34:27 GMT -5
Sal still didn’t understand what this room was. What he was supposed to do…he couldn’t stop feeling at his face, at the rough parts he’d memorized a long, long time ago. He couldn’t stop feeling how they just weren’t there. But he had bigger things to think about, now. He had bigger concerns than his face. He couldn’t hear Zuko. It was like he wasn’t there, like he didn’t exist at all…all Sal could see was his father, looking far more intense than Sal had thought possible. His father wasn’t an intense sort of person. He hadn’t handled grief perfectly…he hadn’t been there all the time, and he hadn’t known how to care for a child on his own, particularly one as scarred as he was. But he wasn’t an angry person. He had never once been violent. “What?” Sal breathed, shaking his head as if he could somehow push this all away, or wake up, or anything, anything to make this right. To make it make sense. “What are you talking about? I didn’t…you’re in the House. You have to listen to me, you’re…” He broke off, eyes wide as they caught on the flames in his father’s hand. What? How could he…? And then it clicked. “Wait…wait, please, stop, think about this…” he knew the words were useless. This man wore his father’s face, but he wasn’t him. He was someone else’s father. The scar. The burn scar. “You did it. You did that to him. It was you.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 8, 2021 15:00:52 GMT -5
Zuko watched, heart thudding in his chest. He didn’t want to see this. He didn’t want to be part of this, even if he knew that it hadn’t actually happened to Sal. Even if he knew that he was the only one who had gone through this specific punishment. He would stand in front of Sal for as long as it took, protect him from his father, make sure he didn’t end up scarred and banished… he breathed out, forcing himself to stay standing. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t be seen or heard, what mattered was that he needed to protect Sal with his life. And then it seemed like Sal understood. Zuko dared risk a glance back at him, his eyes wide as he watched the realization flicker in Sal’s eyes. It was odd to think that Sal hadn’t know, but Zuko had never wanted to ask Sal about his scars, and Sal had returned the favor. It had just never come up. The incident was in the past, and they would both rather not talk about it, so they hadn’t. Sal’s father moved forward, eyes blazing just as Ozai’s had that day. The fire reflected in his blue eyes, making them burn even brighter. It was ironic, that his eyes were the color of fire, same as Ozai’s was. It was ironic, that blue fire burned hotter than red. “This is to teach you respect,” Sal’s father hissed, letting the fire dance over his fingers. “Stand up and fight. Prove you’re not the coward you’ve shown yourself to be. You have disrespected one of my men, and so have disrespected me. The least you can do is fight for your honor.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 8, 2021 16:03:56 GMT -5
They’d never talked about it. Neither of them…they’d never actually said what had happened. They could have, of course. If Zuko had asked…what would Sal have done? Would he have told the story? He didn’t like to think about that day. He didn’t like to think about it, but… It didn’t matter now. He was finding out, with or without Zuko’s consent. He hoped Zuko was okay with it, but he didn’t seem to have any choice in the matter. And as far as he could tell Zuko wasn’t here. He’d have to tell him, later. When he got himself out of this. Although…he had a terrible suspicion that he knew exactly how this was going to end, unless he found a way to change it. And why would the House allow that? “No,” he managed, looking up into his father’s blue eyes. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t afraid, but he thought, maybe, the House had made a mistake here. Using his father in the place of Zuko’s…it sounded good. But their relationship wasn’t the same. He didn’t know what Zuko had done in this situation. Had he fought? Had he refused? Sal didn’t think he’d have run, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t considering it for himself. He was pretty sure he was either going to make this better, or way, way worse. “I get that you aren’t real. And I get that Zuko’s not even here right now. And maybe you’re programmed to just do what you did the first time around, and you can’t even hear me. But what happened here was wrong, and someone needs to say it.” Then he turned on his heel and fled.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 8, 2021 20:54:43 GMT -5
Zuko’s eyes widened a little bit as Sal spoke once more. He didn’t know what he had expected, but… Sal defying not only the House, but Ozai, too… it didn’t even matter that it wasn’t Ozai. It was Sal’s father using Ozai’s words, Ozai’s anger, Ozai’s actions. Zuko remembered that day all too clearly. He could still hear his own voice, too high in his ears. He could see his father’s face as it lit with fire, he could still feel the heat and the instinct to lift his hands up to cover his face, but it was too late. Too late… he squeezed his eyes shut, barely able to keep himself from falling to his knees. He was going to have to watch Sal meet that fate. Probably sooner, now, because he’d dared to defy his father instead of asking for forgivingness. Distantly, Zuko wondered what sort of punishment he would have gotten if he had dared to say those things to Ozai. If he had dared to look him in the eye and tell him he was wrong, if he had been brave enough to fight back. But… he supposed it didn’t really matter. He hadn’t fought back, and he didn’t deserve any credit for defying Ozai. “I’m here,” Zuko whispered, threading his fingers through Sal’s smaller ones. He couldn’t promise him that he would protect him, but he would stand with him. He would watch him and hold his hand and he wouldn’t look away, even for a second. And then… and then Sal ran. The blue haired man screamed with rage, guards moving out from the audience to block Sal’s path out. They reached for him, doing their best to catch him under the arms and make him face his father.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 8, 2021 21:08:16 GMT -5
Sal didn’t know what Zuko had done when he’d been here. When he’d faced his father…it must have happened when he was younger, the scar was far from a wound now. How many years ago had it been? Had it happened before he’d been banished? Had it happened at some point as punishment for trying to return? Guessing wasn’t going to make it right, though. That, at least, was something Zuko could still choose whether to tell him, in his own time. And Sal was pretty sure he had bigger things to worry about. He knew the scar probably wouldn’t be permanent. He knew by now how the House worked. But that didn’t mean he wanted to go through this. That didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified at the thought of having half his face burned off. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut and tried to talk him down. He was pretty sure if the House wanted to burn him, that was exactly what was going to happen. He gasped as arms reached out and ducked, trying to weave around them. But he wasn’t a fighter, and even if he was, these were trained Fire Nation guards. He struggled, trying to break free, trying to kick at them and make them let go, but he knew it was pointless the moment he was grabbed. He just wasn’t that strong.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 9, 2021 0:05:45 GMT -5
Zuko stared at the guards, desperately trying to wrench their arms away from Sal, but his own seemed to pass right through. His eyes were wild as he turned around, staring at the ever-advancing figure. The fire was burning higher and higher, and the difference between Zuko and Sal was that Sal knew what the outcome of this was going to be. He didn’t have the desperate, burning hope that it might all be a bluff. That Ozai might extinguish the flame and tell Zuko to get up and stop sniveling. There was only one way for this to end, and Zuko bore the proof of it across his face. He tried to breathe, but he found it more difficult than he had anticipated. “Let him go!” Zuko screamed at the guards, rushing at them once again and attempting to pull them away from Sal. “You know this isn’t right! He’s not your Prince! I’m your prince, you have to listen to me! I’m Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, let him go or I’ll be forced to… to…” the threat fell flat as Zuko realized he didn’t have anything to finish it with. Or anyone to hear the desperate words. He had promised that he wouldn’t look away. The fire burned in Sal’s dad’s hand, and then the hand was plunging forward and it was like an explosion, almost. Hand hitting flesh, fire consuming, as it did best… this time, there was no flaring pain and then the feeling of falling. This time, Zuko wasn’t the one hurt.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 9, 2021 0:17:17 GMT -5
Sal knew how this went. He knew this was how Zuko had gotten his scar…of course it was. It was the only thing that made any sense. He couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like, when the words actually hit home. When this was someone you knew, and maybe even trusted…someone you probably craved love and attention from. He had stopped expecting that sort of relationship from his father a long time ago. He’d even stopped wanting it, mostly. He had other people in his life, other, deeper relationships. It wasn’t the same for him. He was glad that Zuko wasn’t there. Even if he’d have to tell him, later. He was glad Zuko didn’t have to watch this happen again, to someone else. The only thing worse than being hurt was seeing someone else be hurt. He didn’t have time to figure out hit to tear himself free. He didn’t have time to do anything at all before the hand moved forwards and he screamed, the pain exploding across his face and wiping every other thought from his mind. There was only now, and now was never going to end, and now was hell, and he’d rather be anywhere else.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 9, 2021 14:02:53 GMT -5
Sal couldn’t feel Zuko’s hand on his. He felt alone, in this room, with all the strangers pressed in around him, determined only to hurt him, not one of them trying to help. How much worse would it be if they’d been family? People you knew, trusted even? He couldn’t breathe, the pain was too much, and then suddenly…it was gone. The smell of smoke vanished too, and the yells, and the hard floor under Sal’s knees, when had he fallen to his knees? He pushed himself up slowly, gasping as he tried to catch his breath, it was like a dream, only it didn’t fade away afterwards…he reached up and touched his face - prosthetic now - and then froze. He had only been here once before. That wasn’t true. He had been here countless times, the first long before he was able to form any sort of memory of it. He thought maybe this was the first place he’d been brought as a baby after getting out of the hospital, but that was just a theory with no evidence. It wasn’t like his father ever talked about it. It wasn’t like he ever asked. The point was that he had been here only one time that mattered. There was the picnic blanket. How odd to see it here, not stuffed in the back of a closet, where it would be occasionally seen on accident and consequently buried deeper, always with the intent to get rid of it, never with the action of doing so. Until they’d moved, anyway. The place was the same. But the people sitting there…they weren’t. “Zuko,” Sal breathed, because who else could it possibly be? And this…it had to be his mom. Just like it had been Sal’s dad in place of Zuko’s. He felt sick. “Don’t wander so far, sweetie,” Ursa spoke up from where she sat on the blanket, watching Zuko, her expression midway between affectionate and exasperated. Both of which were absolutely buried in the love in her voice. “I’m here. I’m right here…” Sal moved closer, kneeling in front of Zuko, though he had a bad feeling he couldn’t be seen. That was okay. He just needed one thing to make it to this kid’s ears. “Don’t pet the dog."
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 9, 2021 22:10:20 GMT -5
Zuko was aware that there was something wrong. He could hear. It was wrong that he could hear out of both sides, but he didn’t think very much of it. He could hear, so he was going to accept it. Why wouldn’t he? He could hear and his mom was back, and everything was okay. Maybe they could even go looking for turtle ducks together later! A smile crossed his face as he bent down to pick a dandelion, watching the little tufts of it float away, back towards Ursa. He was tempted to follow it back, but the field around him was big, and there was nothing he wanted to do more than explore every inch of it. Maybe he could tell Azula after he did it that he had explored an entire field and found something cool, but she wasn’t allowed to see it because she hadn’t been there. A cocky smile passed his lips even as he looked up at the sound of Ursa’s voice, brushing some of the hair out of his face that had fallen from its ponytail. He couldn’t see Sal. He wasn’t aware that anyone was there other than Ursa and himself. “Yes, mom!” he called back, beginning to move ever so slightly closer to her when he noticed something else, a little bit further in the distance. It was moving! It looked soft, too… Zuko glanced back at Ursa, half torn between investigating and doing as his mother had said. But it wasn’t that far away, and she said to make sure she could see him at all times… but she could see him if he went to go investigate, couldn’t she? Mind made up, Zuko brushed his hair from his face again, pulling at the ponytail to tighten it before he began to move towards where he had seen motion. He had a feeling it was an animal of some kind… based on what he had seen, it was fluffy. Would it let him pet it? That was the ideal situation. Maybe if it was a dog on its own, Ursa would even let him take it home! Then maybe it could be friends with the turtle ducks. Or maybe Zuko would have friends of his own, finally.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 10, 2021 14:22:56 GMT -5
Sal remembered how eager he’d been to pet the dog. He remembered how excited he’d been at the chance, how he’d been so sure it was a real dog…he’d done everything right. His mom had been ready to come with him, he’d just run ahead of her…he’d gotten excited… And she hadn’t considered that it might not be a real dog, of course. Why would she? He had called it a dog, so of course it was a dog. Which came with its own dangers, obviously, but…it hadn’t been urgent, right away. But Sal knew how it happened, this time. He knew it was a man who had killed his mom, even if no one else believed him, even if there was no evidence of it. He still thought the doctor had to have been in with the man, or paid off by him. He couldn’t imagine anyone competent genuinely mistaking his wounds for dog bites, not when they’d been fresh. Now they were just scars. Now they could have come from anything. But he always wondered whether there had been any remains of the bullet that had been picked out and discreetly gotten rid of. “Zuko,” he whispered, as the child caught sight of the movement near the trees. “No.” He tried to move in front of him, but he wasn’t solid, and he knew it. He couldn’t stop this. He needed to. But he couldn’t. “Let me grab my purse and I’ll go with you!” Ursa called, beginning to move around and gather her things. It wouldn’t take her long, but she was just that little ways behind. Sal looked ahead as he moved next to Zuko, his eyes searching for…there. He could make out the firearm in the man’s arms, but to a child…of course Zuko wasn’t looking for a weapon.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 10, 2021 14:49:08 GMT -5
Zuko, too, had concluded that it was a dog. What else could it be? It was the right size and shape, and it was very clearly fluffy. He remembered what he had been told – if you see a dog that you want to pet, you have to find the owner and ask the owner for permission. But, looking around… there was no owner anywhere in sight. Maybe the dog would have a collar, and Zuko could practice reading it and then he and Ursa could return the dog to its owner! Then the owner would be happy and the dog would be happy, and Zuko would be happy too, because he’d both pet a dog and made a stranger happy. He glanced over at his mom, impatiently waiting for her to grab all her stuff. “I wanna pet the dog!” Zuko called over to Ursa, then decided it wouldn’t be too big a deal if Ursa hadn’t caught up with him entirely. She could still see him, and nothing bad could happen as long as she was there. Taking a few tentative steps forward that quickly turned into a run, Zuko moved towards the dog, lips parted in a wide smile. He didn’t see Sal. He didn’t have a weapon of his own. He had no indication that there was anything dangerous about this situation. There was a voice in the back of his head – his older self – that made him halt where he was, frowning just a little bit as he peered in the direction of the dog. He remembered watching Sal be scarred. The version of himself that was still aware of the House knew what this must be, but it didn’t make sense to the younger version of him that had taken the lead. Seeing Sal scarred the way Zuko remembered being scarred had just been a bad dream. It was all a bad dream, and this was real. Him and Ursa and the dog that wasn’t moving as much anymore. A giggle built in Zuko’s throat as he once again took off in the direction of the animal.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 11, 2021 15:26:31 GMT -5
“Zuko, wait!” Ursa wasn’t yet concerned enough. She wasn’t hurrying. She didn’t know. But Sal knew. He reached for Zuko’s arm, trying to stop him, but his hand went right through. The House wasn’t going to let him stop this. Just like it hadn’t let Zuko stop the scarring. He ran after the kid anyway. He couldn’t just let this happen, he had to find a way to make it stop…to protect him. To protect Ursa. He could see the man up ahead. He could hear Ursa getting to her feet behind him. And Sal? He was a ghost here. He was just a ghost in a scene that had happened a long time ago, now. Only someone else was going to be forced to go through it too. “Don’t wander so far, Zuko!” Ursa called, half laughing as she jogged to catch up to her son. The moment she realized what was happening felt like a physical change in the air. And suddenly, she was running. Sal wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to look away. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He had to see it through. The man in the dog mask pointed the shotgun at Zuko’s head. He fired. And in the moment between those actions, Ursa caught up, wrapped Zuko in a hug…and spun so she was between the blast and the boy.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 11, 2021 15:42:27 GMT -5
Zuko turned at the sound of Ursa’s voice, grinning up at her. She sounded like she was laughing. But the way she was running… it didn’t look like she was happy anymore. It looked like she was… scared? But moms didn’t get scared. They were the bravest people in any universe. That was why Ursa had killed Azulon. He could still remember her voice as she told him why the turtle duck was trying to bite him. He had threatened her kids… it was odd, almost like being two people at once. The boy who was clutched in his mother’s arms for a second that seemed to last for an eternity, and a teenager who knew what had really happened to his mother. Who knew this wasn’t his story, who knew that this belonged to someone else. Someone who should have been allowed to tell him himself. There wasn’t time left to think. The sound was explosive. It was loud, too loud, and then… fire. It felt like fire on his face, shrapnel piercing him, covering him in blood that wasn’t his, letting loose blood that was. He felt Ursa fall, and he was falling with her, a high pitched scream issuing from his lips. He was clinging to Ursa, and he couldn’t think, and… And then it was over. It all melted away, leaving a dark haired boy kneeling on the ground, breath coming in ragged gasps. It had felt real. It had been real, but not for him.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 12, 2021 23:57:45 GMT -5
Sal didn’t look away. He could have. He knew looking didn’t make it any easier for Zuko. He knew looking didn’t make Ursa any less dead. But he didn’t look away, because this…this was what had happened that day. Being four and traumatized, his memory of it hadn’t been perfect. The dog man had seemed like a giant. But he had always maintained that it had been a man, and here, at last, was proof. It hadn’t been a dog. He’d been right. He felt sick, thinking that. Thinking about that as Zuko went through it. As he lived it. But Sal couldn’t make it stop, and he couldn’t make it better. And then it faded away, the last thing Sal saw was the masked man, watching as Zuko screamed and Ursa died and - The dog man looked up and Sal froze. The dog man was looking directly at him. And then it really was gone, and Zuko was the age Sal knew him at, and the only evidence of it was a racing heart, He let out a shuddering breath. Then he moved to Zuko’s side and fell to his knees next to him, nearly reaching to touch him before he thought better of it. “Zuko,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s over.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 13, 2021 0:31:21 GMT -5
This… this had been cruel. There was no other way to describe it. They hadn’t been allowed to ease back into caring about each other. There had been no adjustment period. Instead, they’d both had the worst days of both of their lives shoved in each other’s faces. Secrets that should have been shared only by each other, not by the House. Although, Zuko thought wryly, maybe the day he had been burned wasn’t the worst day of his life anymore. That title was taken by the day he had thought it an absolutely brilliant idea to betray Iroh. To betray everything he cared about, everything he had tried to become. He bit his lip, staring at the floor. His face felt different, but he wasn’t thinking about that. He was mostly thinking about how to stop his body from shaking. Sal was there, though. In the past, Zuko might’ve taken his hand and said nothing, just communicated everything he needed to by touch. Maybe, in another world, he would have kissed Sal and they would have held each other until it felt more like a bad dream than something that had actually happened. Instead he just sat where he was, stiff as a board and uncertain how to respond. He looked up, gaze catching on Sal’s. The prosthetic was back in place, and the world felt right again. Seeing Sal unscarred… while it was probably something the other boy wanted, it didn’t feel right. Sal was the sum of everything he had experienced, and Zuko didn’t want to deal with a Sal that wasn’t the one he had spent hours and hours with in the House. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, the words leaving his lip for the third time that day. It must have been a new record – Zuko very rarely apologized. “I shouldn’t have… seen that. Not without you telling me.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 13, 2021 1:45:11 GMT -5
Sal had to wonder what the House had gotten out of this. It must have gotten something, right? He didn’t know what, but he hoped it was worth it. He hoped it was really pleased with how things had gone. He was glad he knew what had happened, but he hated that it hadn’t been Zuko’s choice to tell him. He was glad Zuko knew what had happened to him, but he would have preferred to tell it himself, not force him to live it. He wished they were certain of each other enough to know what was okay. He sighed a little, watching as Zuko trembled, feeling his own body shaking for a long moment before he gave in and took Zuko’s hand. And froze as the boy looked at him. Because that face…that wasn’t Zuko’s face at all. It was Sal’s. He flinched, giving a sharp gasp, but he corrected himself a second later. It was still Zuko’s face, but…with Sal’s scars. Did that mean…? He touched his prosthetic and hesitated. But Zuko had already seen what was meant to lie under it. And if he was right, that wasn’t what was there anymore. He carefully slipped it off and lowered it. He didn’t know what he was seeing, but he was pretty sure Zuko was about to see it, too.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 13, 2021 2:10:39 GMT -5
Zuko couldn’t help but wonder if they could have avoided this if they’d just… asked each other what had happened. They had both been so aware of the fact that they didn’t want to talk about their own past that they hadn’t dared ask for the other’s. Even when Zuko had figured out he would have been comfortable telling Sal the truth. It had never come up. Both of them had always been too afraid to broach the subject, so they’d never known. And it hadn’t mattered, not really. It hadn’t changed how close they had been able to grow. Had it really been so hard for the House to let them live in that ignorance until one of them had found the right words to broach the subject? What would Zuko have told Sal, anyway? Oh. Yeah… I disrespected a general in a war meeting because I didn’t think we should be sending our troops to their death and I said something about it. Turns out it wasn’t just him I had dishonored, it was my father. So he burned me and banished me when I refused to fight him. However he said it would have been far more cavalier than forcing Sal to actually live through it. A shudder ran through him as he remembered the way Sal had stood up to Ozai. It hadn’t really been Ozai, but it might as well have been. And then Zuko wasn’t thinking about that anymore. His eyes widened at their clasped hands, and it took all of his self-restraint not to pull his own back. He didn’t deserve this. He hadn’t earned this. That thought disappeared soon after. He was about to tell Sal he didn’t need to take off the prosthetic if he didn’t want to, but… what lay under the prosthetic wasn’t what had been there last time. The distance between them forgotten, Zuko reached out with a trembling hand, lightly tracing the perimeter of the scar – his scar – with one finger.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 13, 2021 14:44:52 GMT -5
It hadn’t really been a secret. Not in the way that meant it had been intentionally hidden. Sal would have told Zuko, if it had ever come up…he hoped it was the same for Zuko too, but he didn’t know for sure. It still should have been Zuko’s choice, either way. It shouldn’t have been something they were forced to watch the other go through. It should have been shared on their own time. Or never, if they were never ready. It wasn’t as though it actually mattered. It didn’t change things. It didn’t change anything between them. It was just a thing that had happened. But now they knew. And now they had to figure out how to react to being forced into this, when they were barely even talking again. The House hadn’t let them have time to recover, and Sal wished it could have given them a little while, first. The point was, he was looking at Zuko, and he was seeing his scars. They looked so strange on someone else’s face…his brain didn’t know how to react to that information. He was wired to see those scars on himself. Seeing them on Zuko felt…he didn’t know how it felt. He didn’t move as Zuko reached to feel the scar, his eyes wide as he searched the other boy’s. One of which was a prosthetic, now, because Sal was no longer half blind. He was half deaf, though. Which felt a lot more disorienting than it probably did to Zuko. It also meant there was a part of Sal’s face that wasn’t scarred at all. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he could speak, even if he had.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 14, 2021 18:39:11 GMT -5
Zuko would have told Sal, if he had asked. He wouldn’t have been happy about the conversation, probably, but he trusted Sal. At one point, Sal had trusted him. He was going to have to spend some time earning that trust back now, but… that was beside the point. He took in a quiet breath, trying to get his thoughts back in order. What they had gone through wasn’t pleasant. It was cruel of the House to make them see that. It was cruel of the House to make them both watch as someone they cared about experienced one of their worst memories. He wasn’t used to not being able to see out of both eyes. He had been half blind for a little bit after the incident – he’d had to wear a bandage over the injured eye – but he had still technically been able to see out of it. It was odd, getting used to only seeing out of one eye. He had a feeling Sal was having a similar struggle with his hearing. What was the point of this? To get them to literally see things through the other’s eyes? Zuko thought the House had hit that one on the nose just a little bit too hard. Zuko’s hand dropped back to his side and he gave a quiet sigh as he took a step back. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin this again, but he didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Since they were being honest with each other, though… “I know you were talking to my father,” Zuko murmured, not quite able to meet Sal’s eyes. “When you said it wasn’t right. I told him that a few hours ago… when I confronted him. I thought it was justified for… for years. I spoke out of turn. I disrespected a general, and dishonored my father. And I lost my own honor because I refused to fight him.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 22, 2021 0:20:47 GMT -5
Sal had to wonder what had made the House choose to do this. It had probably had some kind of intention in mind…he had to assume it hadn’t been completely random. It felt just a little bit too pointed for that, somehow. It felt like it was very specifically trying to make them understand something. Or maybe Sal was just getting paranoid. This place was probably a difficult place to avoid that in, with all the mystery and possibilities that were never quite confirmed one way or the other. He didn’t need to understand it fully. But he wished he had more to go off of. No one he’d ever talked to even knew for sure that it was actually sentient at all. He breathed in, hesitating as Zuko spoke. He was right. That had been aimed at Ozai, because even if it was just the House and it hadn’t made any difference, he had been standing in the room where Zuko had been scarred by his own father, and as far as he knew, no one had said a word in protest. No one had said it was wrong. “Yeah, well…you were a kid,” he replied quietly, looking at Zuko. It was so strange, to see the scars on a different face. To see the glass eye in a different color. “Kids are supposed to be able to trust that adults are right, so they do. Your mom tells you not to do something stupid, so you listen to her, because your a kid and you can’t help it. He just took advantage of that to hurt you, and now…technically, now someone in that room said something about it. Even if it doesn’t change anything.” He breathed out. “It wasn’t the same for me. I mean…no one told the four year old kid that he deserved to see his mom die and lose his face on the same day, you know? It was supposed to be a terrible accident. A stupid dog…”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 22, 2021 2:26:26 GMT -5
Zuko didn’t know how to react to knowing the truth behind Sal’s scars. He didn’t know how to feel about the fact it had been intentional. He had always assumed it had been an accident. People assumed Zuko’s scar was an accident, after all. It was hard to believe that someone would want to hurt another person that badly. But the Fire Nation was not kind. The people who had hurt Sal were just as unkind. At least Ozai had only ever wanted to scar. Sal’s attackers had aimed to kill, and… they had killed. Just… not the right person. Zuko shuddered at the thought, the memory of Ursa reaching to protect him… did Sal even know how Ursa had died? Zuko had shared so much of himself with Sal, but they had both avoided talking about their pasts. Those were things that had been locked away, hidden because neither of them were inclined to be received with pity. “It may not have changed the scar,” Zuko murmured, meeting Sal’s eyes before his gaze drifted towards the scar tissue across the left one, “but it changes things. Even if you weren’t actually there to change it. I don’t… I don’t know. I just know it’s different now.” He breathed out, then let his gaze fall a little bit. “It shouldn’t have happened, either way. Your mom really loved you. I guess… people probably tell you that all the time. I know it doesn’t make it better. I… lost my mom when I was younger. She killed my grandfather to save my life, and nobody ever mentioned it. My father wouldn’t speak to me about it, but…” He trailed off, then shook his head a little. “I don’t mean to… to try to redirect the conversation about your mom. It’s just… mine once told me that a mother will do a lot to protect her kid if they’re in danger. It doesn’t help to know when they die or disappear, but… yours was good. Really good. And it’s awful that she’s gone, but I’m glad you’re here, even if that’s what it took.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 26, 2021 20:51:50 GMT -5
It was odd that they’d both talked about so much, but not the things that had happened before. Not their pasts. They’d shared who they were, just not necessarily how they’d become those people. Had that been a mistake? Or maybe it didn’t matter, maybe all that mattered were the results and not the causes. Sal didn’t really know. But he wanted to share it, now. He wanted Zuko to understand, because he’d been forced to go through it too, now. He’d been hurt the way Sal had been hurt and it wasn’t fair. He glanced down, breathing out quietly. “I know it shouldn’t have happened,” he murmured. “Neither of us should have gone through what we did. It was wrong.” They both knew that now. But Zuko was the one who had had to deal with thinking it was justified. He glanced up again, eyes widening as Zuko continued. He hadn’t known what happened to his mom…he’d never asked, obviously, and Zuko had never mentioned it. “You know, I felt so guilty about it, when I was old enough to understand better,” he breathed. “I blamed myself for it, for…well. I guess I still do.” He looked down. It wasn’t like he was used to talking about this. Ever, with anyone. He trusted Zuko, but that didn’t make it easy. It just made it possible.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 28, 2021 0:21:39 GMT -5
Zuko searched Sal’s expression, uncertain how he felt about the fact that the House had made them go through it. It was cruel. There was no question in Zuko’s mind about that, but he couldn’t help wondering if it was also important. They had gone so long not knowing each other… they had gotten to know each other as much as they could without talking about their pasts, but neither of them would be the same person without what they had gone through. The most Sal knew about Zuko’s past was that he had been banished and that he needed to find the Avatar to get home. He hadn’t known the scar was mixed up in that. Zuko hadn’t known that Sal’s mother had died in the same accident that had scarred him. Their pasts… they had shaped who they came to be. And they had spent so long not talking about them. “It was wrong,” Zuko echoed, able to say that with some confidence now. What he had gone through… it was wrong. Ozai had been cruel. He had treated a child in a way that nobody, child or not, should have been treated. Zuko’s crime… and it hadn’t really been a crime… had been trying to save the lives of his people. It hadn’t warranted the punishment he had suffered. “It’s easy to imagine that everything that happens to us happens because of us,” Zuko managed after a moment, barely able to hold Sal’s gaze. “It’s… harder to admit that we really don’t have that much control over any of it.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Sept 3, 2021 1:02:27 GMT -5
Had the House known they would never talk about this without a push? Had it known that in order to really understand who they were, they needed to know the things that had turned them into those people? Sal didn’t think what had happened to him had defined him, but he didn’t think it hadn’t, either. He knew it wasn’t that simple. Every day he’d been alive had changed him, some more than others, and that day had changed his life, forever. He had been fortunate. He had gotten to live. He had scars, but scars by definition didn’t kill you. He’d been able to have a life. His mom… He looked at Zuko, and gave a small nod. They were both better than they had been. Zuko could say what had happened was wrong, now. Sal could thank his mom, and try not to let himself feel guilty for it, because it was too easy to let the guilt overpower the gratitude, and that wasn’t fair to anyone. “Easier to feel bad about something than to admit we couldn’t stop it,” he echoed, meeting Zuko’s eyes, both real and glass. “I guess as long as we think it was our fault, we believe we could stop it if it ever happened again. It’s a lot scarier to know that we’re just as helpless now as we felt then.”
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