alesana4ever: She could certainly use one even if she doesn't want one. Yeah, I feel like (epically in a fic like this) her best chance would be with someone she doesn't have any history with.
haytsun: Indeed she did. And She is about to do more stepping lol.
Azula lets the waves lap at her ankles. The more she hears it, the less she understands how anyone can find the relentless crashing of waves to be a soothing sound. It is like thunder in her ears, a harsh and persistent sound...
"So what brings you back to Ember Island?"
Decidedly, she will keep things plain and simple. She drags her stick through the sand and spells out, "brother."
"You're visiting your brother or he wanted to come here?"
She holds up two fingers. It takes the woman a moment to catch on. When she does she nods, "oh, two fingers means the second guess."
Azula returns the nod.
"Do you want to be here?"
She doesn't want to be anywhere at all. Nowhere, she supposes, but on the rim of the volcano with the heat rippling enticingly over her face. She takes a handful of sand and watches the grains slip through her fingers.
"My friend is hosting a party…"
She drags her stick through the sand. 'Chan?'
"Yes."
Azula frowns and shakes her head. She swallows, remembering TyLee's bubbly smile, her cheery voice. Just smile and laugh at everything he says, even if it's not funny. She wonders if that is what TyLee has been doing with her all along. How foolhardy of her not to have noticed, not to have even considered…
"Right, the last time didn't go so well because you have some...bizzare social habits."
The woman might as well be forthright and call her a social deviant, a pariah. There are stronger, more accurate terms for what she is.
"Are you okay?" The woman tilts her head. "You seem...off."
Another understatement, but she guesses that it is true enough. She is off, she has always been off, probably since birth. Everyone has sensed it on her. Everyone had noticed. Everyone save for she, herself. At least until it became more stark, more undeniable. When off became off even for her. And she supposes that she is a new kind of off now; a less uncanny, more resigned sort of off. The same off that comes with snuffing out a candle for the night. Except no one is around to light the wick once more and she hasn't any matches of her own. 'I'm fine.' She scribbles.
The woman frowns. "I don't believe you."
Azula makes no move for the longest time. Only when the woman goes to speak again does she begin her scrawl, 'what makes you say so?'
"No one sits alone on a beach this late at night, or is it early in the morning, if they are fine. Well, I guess that some people do. But most of them don't look like they're a few seconds from swimming out into the open ocean and never returning."
'I don't look like that.'
She quirks a brow, "well you certainly don't not look like that." She folds her arms. "I can tell you know. I just can. It's like…" she taps her chin. "Sometimes I think that I can sense people's energy. What do they call that…?"
Azula tenses and, with a much heavier hand, writes, 'auras'. The stick snaps and narrowly misses the woman next to her. She hears the half make a splash.
"Yeah, auras. I guess, I don't know if I believe in that stuff though."
Azula releases her breath, but the sting is still potently there. She stares at her feet, at the waves as they drag sand over them.
"I'm going out on a limb here. Your brother wanted to come here for you, not himself, didn't he?"
Azula shakes her head. She chucks the other, uselessly small remainder of the stick into the water. Sand embeds itself under her nail as she answers, 'both.'
"Both of you? Both of you need this vacation?"
She confirms and faces the water again. Once again she is bombarded by the sound of waves against sand. She isn't sure how much time passes but it is enough time for a line of gold to crack at the very bottom of the horizon. More than enough time for the girl to grow bored and leave her.
She doesn't.
For some reason she sits in silence.
And then she lays in silence with her hands behind her head and her eyes closed.
Azula takes this as her chance. She rises and makes a quick and light footed stride across the beach. She reaches the treeline before she hears footsteps behind her. "Where are we going?"
Azula folds her arms over her chest; apparently she is going nowhere at all. Though she doesn't see why she should have any qualms or inhibitions about pitching herself into a volcano in front of the woman. She owes her nothing. And if she wants to make a nuisance of herself then she can have the sight forever burned into her simple head.
In way of an answer, she simply pushes forward into the jungle.
"We're going for a hike?" The woman asks. "We haven't got any gear."
She looks around for a branch, a stick of bamboo, anything that could help her tell the woman to fuck off. She has a feeling that the woman wouldn't go even if she could find the means to demand it of her. Instead she opts for a simple, fiery, 'y?'
"Why what?"
She shapes an 'r' and a 'u'. She takes a deep breath before finishing, 'following me.' The woman makes her spell it out several more times before answering with a plain and infuriating shrug.
'Y?' She demands again, this time with a hotter blaze.
"I guess...I don't know." The woman mutters. "My sister used to get like this. She would sit alone on the beach for hours, at all hours. And then one day, she just didn't come home." She kicks at the ground. "You're not going to go home, are you?"
Azula stares at the ground for the longest time before she spells on a very simple, 'I will.'
"Then what are you coming out here for?"
Azula rubs her hands over her face. This woman is much too persistent. She obliterates the nearest tree and picks up a chunk of it. She splays her lies into the dirt, she thinks there might be something poetic about doing so. 'I'm going to find the spirit that took my voice.'
The woman knits her brows. "It's here? In this jungle?"
Azula nods.
"And you're just going to do that without any gear? No food, no water?"
Azula sharply inhales.
"Wow, you're a horrible planner!" She declares. "You should really think ahead before going on some crazy jungle quest."
'It is my quest. I'll decide what I do.' She underlines 'my'.
"I can help, though." The woman insists. "I know this jungle like it's my own backyard. I'm a tour guide. It's my job to take everyone…"
'Along designated, marked trails.'
Now the woman's face is red. Perhaps if she keeps making subtle jabs, the woman will leave on her own.
"I've done some exploring on my own. A lot of it. I found these ruins and I know that the spirits enjoy lingering around them."
The twinkle in her eyes tells Azula that the woman thinks that she has achieved a small victory. 'I don't need help.'
'Fine.' Azula concedes. Decidedly, it is no longer her fault if the woman sees something that will leave her scarred.
"Let's go back and get some equipment. I actually have a pack prepared already from my last hike. But we can get you some parchment and ink so that you don't have to write in the dirt."
Azula sighs. She doesn't have the energy to ask what makes the woman think that she wants to have any conversation at all on this loathsome journey. But she sees no sense in arguing. The sooner she plays along the quicker she can make her way to the volcano. She follows the woman out from under the shady canopy and its cacophony of bird calls. She is hit by the first rays of morning when she steps back onto the beach. They sear her eyes and she lifts her hand to shield them.
"This is going to be fun, you'll see." She says firmly. "I know that it's probably been difficult without your voice, but this will be exciting. I've been meaning to take a hike, a real hike, for a long time now. I just haven't had the chance."
And perhaps this woman isn't what she seems at all. Maybe she isn't some good natured helping hand. Azula hopes that she isn't. More likely she is seeking adventure but doesn't have the courage to go alone. She supposes that vengeance write itself when she abandons her at the volcano's edge.
"Since we will be traveling together for a while I should tell you, my name is Seicho"
At least now she has a name to her misfortune.