Avatar The Last Airbender

Old Witch...

Crazy
They called her crazy. She was not crazy. She was just...defined irregularly. She had her own needs and her own wants. And she wanted revenge. She could say, yes, she was obsessed with the idea. But not crazy about it. You had to have total loss of mind to be crazy. She still had hers, or else the plans and thoughts of revenge would have been impossible to come up with...

Dangerous
She could agree with that. She was, after all, one of the most powerful water benders still left in the game. If that did not make her dangerous, then what did? She could control the very mind and body of another being. If that didn't maker her dangerous, then what did? She knew the secrets of her people, and in knowing within the Fire Nation, she was a threat. If that didn't make her dangerous, she wasn't sure what did...

Kind
She wasn't sure about that one. She could "act" kind, sure. But to actually be kind to the people who hurt her own...it was impossible. Illogical. Just...no. Yet, they called her kind. And so she played the role. She grew into it, relaxing the others, leading the trail away from her. And they all believed her. Just like any person would have. But no, she was not kind, and she had no intention of being so...

Deranged
So maybe she got a little cocky every now and then. So she put her foot outside the line sometimes. Was that any reason to call her that? Surely not. She was the simple old woman who cared for others. The simple old woman who ran the local inn. The simple old woman with the strange fairy tales of their little old village. And she was nothing more...

Creepy
Ah, that was fun. Although it was an...insulting term, she liked it. It proved her to be much more than she appeared. She was strong. She was manipulative. She was secretive. She was...her. And after so many years of rotting in those cells, she wasn't surprised her demeanor became..."creepy". It was their fault, though not hers...

Controlling
A smile flits across her face when she hears that word. It was so ironic. She did not act bossy, or pushy, or firm. But she controlled another like he were himself when he was not. Blood bending...such a charming form of water bending. And it was useful. It had gotten her out of the Fire Nation's clutches and into the one of the very hearts of one of their little old towns. And from there, she made sure, on every full moon, when she could hear her own blood pounding powerfully in her ears, she would make them suffer. Just as they had made her and her family...

Hamma
She herself had chosen that name. She needed something that was discreet enough to pass another person without suspicion, yet a name that still gave her a form of pride. And so, she called herself Hamma. She did not forget her traditional name given to her by her parents of the Southern Water Tribe. Of course not. She merely...placed it aside to do her job. Hamma meant "a marsh or watery area". Although it's meaning meant much to her, she could not help but feel weakened by it. It did not arise her true standard of power. She was free flowing like the water, even if the water was not completely there...or was not there at all. And so the name should've been stronger. But Hamma would do...

Hamma had wasted away in the cells of the Fire Nation. She had watched many of her people die and many of them fall apart. No matter what she did, or tried to do, they all eventually left her alone. She too wished to go with them, but her pride still stood tall. It was not something that could simply be taken away.

Hamma waited for years. She waited, and waited, and waited...and waited. And unlike so many things in life, she was finally given the chance to be free. To run away. To just live. And so she did...with avengence.

Hamma watched them, her face betraying the sick feelings she had for them. They would all suffer soon enough. They had made her go through years of pain, years of torture...and now, so would they.

Sixty years past...and Hamma was still going strong. People disappeared under the light of the full moon. Never returning. They were gone. Suffering. In pain. And Hamma was happy. Nothing was ever going to ruin the "special" relationship she had with these people...they would all rot in hell soon enough.

And then, the Avatar came. And with him, another bender of the South...

Ruined. Everything was...ruined...