Wave Upon Wave
A/N: Okay, I generally don't do author's notes, but I feel like this story needed a preface as to why I'm writing this instead of working on other stories. Sometimes I sit and stare at the other works I've posted here and honestly it's just hard to get re-interested in something I started a couple of months ago. (Thank the Lord for the people who don't have the same commitment issues I do.) Anyways, I felt like I needed to write this, and it's dark, as much of my work tends to lean towards. I apologize for leaving the other stories I've done, and I hope that I feel up to finishing them off one day.
Trigger Warnings: suicidal thoughts (even though it may not seem so throughout it); please don't read if you will be affected in some negative way
Some background: in between Lok and A:TLA, both Toph and Sokka are in their late 20's.
Thank you for tolerating my monologue. Please read and review!
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A couple hundred feet below her, the waves beat against the cliffside. They pound at the dirt-packed wall smoothing it out, taking away little pieces of debris that will later settle on the floor of the ocean. Consistently moving away from the cliff, only to later rush back in seemed to be the only pattern discernible from the wild waves below. Each assault the water waged upon the earth was foreign, yet deeply familiar to her as she recognized the rhythmic rocking against her own element as the heartbeat of the ocean-these vibrations were not from her own native earth. She could not understand the whispers the water sang as it relayed back and forth between itself and the earth's edge, although she tried in vain to do just that. She was limited to her own language of tremors and quakes.
She could not fathom why the water carried itself away from the shores, only to come back once again.
Toph sat atop the cliffside ruminatively thinking back on how her life had spun itself. Her friends had remained connected throughout times when most would give up, but Katara with her iron will and golden faith had managed to keep them sewn together which bought Toph's quiet gratitude. Her parents traded in total vehemence of her lifestyle for awkward respect tinged with disregard. She was relatively content with the results of her work; she re-shaped the world alongside her friends without any unwanted critique.
There was, however, an intruding critic that constantly reshaped her world without fail. The ponytail-ed meathead of a guy called Sokka.
Her best friend constantly dashed to and fro, contending with political near-fiascos, diplomatic duties, and the odd invention or two. The frantic behavior did not go over well with Suki, his long-term puzzle of a girlfriend. During their back-and-forth, on-again/off-again relationship, he would get something right and then suddenly detour with an "unforgivable fault". They tended to scream their living breath out at each other, pack up their things, separate, and then make up a couple months later.
Whenever they were separated, Sokka would find himself seeking Toph out more than usual, wishing for the vivacity that she would no doubt carry with her. Their time together, perforated by his intermittent forays with Suki, was brighter than the rest of the year filled with the bliss of easy-going, care-free peace that they felt whenever they were by each other's side.
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A small smile passes over her lips as she recalls the times she and Sokka had spent together over the years.
Beneath her the waves continue to pursue something she doesn't know, rushing out to depths she can't reach, then crashing back upon the shore. The motion of the waves crests and falls; each wave reaches its highest point, flattens out as it rushes towards the earth and is built back up on (terra) firm(a)er foundation. But as soon as the wave kisses its newfound zenith, it crumbles and retreats past the reaches of earth.
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