Wassup? For whoever hasn't heard yet, I'm rewriting a bunch of my stories because I think the ones I am rewriting are terrible and amateur. Since I've been learning more and more about writing in English class, I didn't find a majority of my past writing to be acceptable by my new standards.
Anyway, this particular story is going to be very different. I even have a user on this site helping me with OCs, character descriptions, general ideas, etc. As always, I hope you all enjoy it :)
Disclaimer: The Legend of Korra and its characters are owned by Bryan Konietzko, Michael Dante DiMartino, Viacom and Nickelodeon Studios, and is animated by Studio Mir in collaboration with Studio Reve, and by Studio Pierrot. Please support the official release.
Do keep in mind that what I write is considered a parody, which falls beneath fair use of American copyright law. I am entitled to defend my fan-work at any time it is challenged and threatened.
The cold metal of the revolver felt refreshing in Korra's mouth as it rested shakily against the burning hot flesh of her cheeks and tongue before it absorbed the heat. Her forefinger lingered unsteadily over the trigger as the drool-covered barrel rattled against her teeth. Her mind ran wild as her will to live fluctuated. Ending her suffering with a bullet through the head seemed enticing one moment, then pity for the poor cleaners who would have to scrub her brain matter off the wall seemed to halt her actions the next.
It was a selfish prospect, suicide, and Korra knew that. It was undeniable. She let fears constitute her life and tamper with her judgement. Every decision she made caused her to feel as if it wasn't even worth the trouble to make in the first place. The repercussions of her choices, as the Avatar and as a regular person, had her wondering if the shame and regret she felt was her own, her incarnations', or Republic City's.
The pressures of a new world overflowing with ideas of equality for all types of people after Amon's death weighed heavily on the Avatar's shoulders when it should have taken weight off. She had recently gotten her bending restored and, after much tribulation, began dating the person she loved, but there was still a feeling of emptiness that resided deep within her very soul, and in the recesses of her mind she could hear that emptiness personified.
"Your vacillation is truly disgraceful." A familiar male voice stated as if it were whispering directly into her left ear. She had heard this voice plenty of times before, but never so distinctly.
Korra gasped and dropped the gun, a string of drool running down the edge of her lips and staining her shirt. Her head jerked up in surprise, dull blue eyes widening in fear. She snapped her head over her shoulder and shifted her worried gaze about the dark room, looking for whomever had just spoken, but found no one.
"Cease your consternation, child, and please do proceed with the trepidation of your self-righteous absurdity, for it amuses me so." The voice goaded with an inflection of sick pleasure in its tone.
It was happening again, the voice who called itself 'Choroba' was talking to her.
"What do you want from me, Choroba?" Korra demanded, though it came out more as a weak question.
"Why must you inquire that of which you presently possess?" Choroba replied knowingly, the baritone of his disembodied voice and pretentious vocabulary sending shivers down her spine. "Tell me what ails you, child, if that is what you so please."
Korra fell to her knees and was still for a long moment, staring at the floor and thinking about all that had transpired over the course of six months. "I never thought things would get this complicated," she began to cry, "I never meant to hurt them. I love them so much, but I can't stand the constant reminder of what I did…"
"You weep for what you yourself have done, yet you do not weep for the companions you have wounded." Choroba responded in slight bemusement. "You are quite self-regarding in the mourning of your own destruction. How shameful."
"You don't know what I've been through!" Korra shouted as she twisted her fingers into her hair and dug her nails into her scalp until she drew blood. Violently shaking her head back and forth, she denied Choroba's accusations.
"If you are so insistent, then recall to me all that happened from the beginning."
"Fine," Korra agreed, repositioning herself on the floor, "it all started after my kiss with Mako on Air Temple Island's east bluff; after I told him I loved him."
End of chapter one...