Jessica9906: We continue now :P took a little break for my birthday and to write original stories. As for how Zuko and Azula's relationship will develop, I'll let the fic speak for itself.
gemsofformenos:
"This kind of attention could become an addiction, for both sides, the fans and the artist." I can see that; the fan craves the artist and the music and the artist craves the attention. Tbh I could see TyLee doing that a bit. "I bet it's fun to play with these aspects." Very :P "An stalking fan of Azula, for example, who gets really mad, because of her faked forbidden relationship with her brother." That's an interesting prospect. That kind of, if I can't have her, no one can thing.
"I like the insights in Azulas character, you have given here within this chapter. The parts of reasons, why she's doing this. She wants to have done something right in her life. She regrets her decision, the stick with Zuko to a point. Most because of the secure life she has lost this way, not because of Zuko himself." Yeah, a lot of what she is doing is done out of fear. The fear of having nothing and the fear of failure. "And she feels responsible for all of them. She wants the success for herself, so that she would not become a 'simple peasant' of worse, someone who has to live on the street but she also wants to protect her brother and her friends from this fate." This too. She is scared of losing her pride but also of leading the other three into an unsavory position. "I like the protective side of her." Same lol. "but first she must dare to share responsibilities. A hard task for Azula." Yes, she wouldn't want to swallow her pride and admit that she needs help. She likes to do things on her own. "Yes, I bet they'll get a good price for this photo, but is it worth it?" That will be discussed further in the new chapter. "I really had expected some protest from her." Mai is mostly indifferent because that's just her nature. That and she's secure enough in her relationship with Zuko and knows that neither of the siblings are particularly enjoying themselves. "Azula is willing to sacrifice a lot for her dream." Correct. "Nice job with this chapter. It shows Azula's struggle to stay in control of her dream, it shows also that she is already driven by her fear to loose this dream. And in moments, like after the photo, she realizes it a bit. But yet, she doesn't allow this fact to set roots in her mind. Keep on having fun with your stories." Thank you. She has some growing and introspection to do.
Kuvira stares Baatar down quite furiously, she has no intention of backing down on this one.
"We can't do a song like that." He insists. "Combining the two styles." He pauses. "They just don't work together.
The more he speaks, the more steadfast she grows. Wrought Iron Machine is her band, she had been the one to form it. She crosses her arms and her frown deepens. "We need to do something new."
"That's fine. We can do something new." Baatar agrees. "Just not that."
"We are doing that or we will do nothing at all." She knows very well that he is aware that she wouldn't make good on this threat. Southern Air Sounds meant too much to her.
"Look, I like metal. I like Jazz. But they should be kept seperate." Baatar replies. "We should do something like what Tui & La did and…"
At this, Kuvira's jaw nearly drops. "I don't want to be like another band." Frankly, she can't fathom why he would even try to suggest trying to copy another band.
"...And blend metal with an orchestra." He presses on regardless of her dismissal. "It can be bombastic and powerful. I've always liked classical music."
"And I've always liked jazz." Kuvira states flatly, she hopes that the argument sounds as ridiculous as it is. "This isn't about what we like, it's about creating something new. Something that will change the industry. We need to leave an impression." She gives that time to settle. "We can be the first band to try to blend metal and jazz, Baatar." She takes a mouthful of tea. "The first."
"Perhaps no one has done metal jazz because it doesn't sound good."
Kuvira grips her cup a little tighter before setting it down with a force that splashes steaming liquid onto the table. She spares the man a final glance before turning her back on him and exiting.
"You haven't even asked the other three what they think!"
She doesn't take the bait, however valid the point is. She is torn between to responses anyways; a prodding, 'they'd agree with me' and a kinder, 'I want your okay first.' She says nothing.
"You always do this, Kuvira!"
She leaves that bait unbitten as well.
"Why does it always have to be your way?"
It is her band.
It is her dream.
She bites her tongue.
"Why are my ideas never good enough?"
.oOo.
Her bath does little to cleanse the kind of dirty she feels. The filth runs deeper than the water can penetrate. The steam of the springs curls around her body as she washes her hair. She has already scrubbed herself down several times but she still feels a phantom tingle where Zuko had run his fingers under her shirt.
Somehow she feels violated, despite that he was the dreadfully reluctant one and she was insistent.
She wonders, not for the first time, what is wrong with her. Wonders if her mind is fraying again, under the pressure of trying to keep them afloat. She runs the soap along her arms once more. The water pleasantly heats her skin and she tries to think only of how pleasant it is to have a soothing bath.
Her privacy is interrupted by footsteps. Before she can matter an inquisitive, 'Mai, TyLee, is that one of you?' a voice exclaims, "I know you!"
But the woman doesn't.
She doesn't know Azula at all.
She knows the person The Blue Empress.
A perfectly crafted stage persona.
"Do you?" Azula murmurs, she tries to be spiteful to the fan, but Agni was it vexing to have a private moment intruded upon. She curses, again, the lack of funding to go to a truly private bath house.
"Yes." The woman nods. "I do. It is your fault that my daughter is out of control! You make her do things that she shouldn't."
"Oh?" Azula quirks an eyebrow, she hasn't realized that she has gotten back into the business of manipulation. "And how did I manage such a thing?"
The woman snarls. "She cusses and sneaks around. Boys in the house every night, making a mess of it! She doesn't listen to me…"
"That's nice." Azula replies smoothly. "But it isn't what I asked."
The woman dodges the question again. "She was almost arrested for destruction of public property."
Azula shrugs, destruction of public property is more work for her father, and that is fine with her. Her passive shrug is replaced by a somewhat satisfied smile. "What fascinating news, I suppose that it's good to know that I still have an influence."
With a curt sniff the woman deflects, "I don't know what I was expecting from a tramp who so freely shows everyone her chest."
Azula sighs. "We are in a bath house, shall I bathe with my robes on?" She pauses. "Would you like to tell me how it's my fault that you have no control over your daughter?"
The woman looks at her as though she wasn't about to say the most ridiculous thing Azula has heard in awhile. "It's your music! You sing about destroying things and defying parental figures and she idolizes you and your sleazy brother."
The words arouse something unpleasant within Azula. An unexpected desire to defend her brother, the very brother she had spoken ill of for most of her life. Perhaps it is because she knows that Zuko was just going along with her schemes. "I assure you, he isn't…"
The woman cuts her off, splintering her patience that much more. "He is. All four of you are. What you do is the work of Raava, bidding children to rise against their parents.."
Azula decides that she has heard more than enough. With the raising of her temper, her voice lowers into a cold hiss. "I've found that children these days don't 'rise against' their parents without good reason."
The woman's lip twitches. "I don't want to hear that from a deviant...a lunatic who has perversion for her own brother."
Azula swallows. The woman tosses her bathrobe aside and begins furiously scrubbing herself clean, if nothing else she respects the woman for not cowering away after delivering a low blow. Evidently, Azula wants to flee, but she won't give the woman the satisfaction. She dips her head under the water to mask the tears that managed to escape. The woman is still raving at her from across the room, she can hear her, but only as background noise amid the doubts finally working their way in.
The realization that she has probably made a mistake.
The realization that this isn't something she can do damage control over, something that can't be explained away by spinning a tale about too many drinks.
They have the funding they need for their mover. But the woman has successfully left her feeling diriter than before she had entered her bath. The woman left her with the knowledge that people thought her a sexual deviant. She dries herself, trying to come up with a way to save herself.
Herself and Zuko from a lifetime of shame.
She squeezes the water out of her hair and bends to pick up her bathrobe.
"It's a shame that you're brother isn't here to see this…" Azula's face grows hot at the provokation. "...isn't it?"
.oOo.
Baatar doesn't speak with her for the better part of the night, apparently more than content to return her cold shoulder. So she tries something simpler. "Can you pass me some dessert?"
Ming pushes Kuvira a plate.
"I was talking to Baatar."
"Oh wow, thank you Ming, you are such a good band mate." She hears Ming mutter to herself, drawing a snicker from Ghazan.
She has half the mind to tell Ming that she likes her better when she doesn't talk. But she doesn't want to fight on two fronts, possibly three if Ghazan chose to defend his woman. Kuvira shoots P'Li a look and the woman shrugs.
"Baatar…"
The man pushes his chair in and bids his mother a good night. She knows that she shouldn't press him but they truly don't have time to keep an argument going so she follows him. "I don't have a problem with your ideas-"
He cuts in. "It's just that yours are better, right?"
Kuvira falters, "I never said that. I wouldn't ever say that."
"You don't have to." He says dryly. "I get the picture well enough."
She opens her mouth to speak but they have reached their bedroom and Baatar has slammed the door. Not many things throw her stoic demeanor but that does the job, it leaves her sputtering, "that's...this is my room too. My pillows are…"
The door opens, but before she has a chance to smile, her pillows and blanket are flung into the hallway. She blinks at the closed door, standing there for a moment, before resigning herself to that she is going to have to sleep on the couch.