Korra (
anatural) wrote in
poly_chromatic2013-07-18 09:24 am
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三十
[She's woken up by an incessantly cheery tune. It takes her awhile to place it as her network device -- and another while to figure why, because it's not the two beeps of a message or the tune Hei recorded to let her know her battery's dying.
It's a little calendar notification. One year in the City! She stares at it uncomprehending (always a little slow in the mornings).
One year.
Shaking her head, she takes a minute to figure out how to make the stupid notification away and then shoves that thought -- One year -- out of her head. She's just going to go about her day as normal. Ayup.]
[ video/action - late morning - option 1 ]
[Korra is out on the beach. You can only really see her face, but the sound of the waves is unmistakable.]
Hey Chekov, get over here. Bring swimtrunks. [It's time you learned how to swim, Spaceboy.]
[ action - late afternoon - option 2 ]
[Another day, another session of physical therapy. The hospital's practically a second (third?) home to her at this point. She walks through the front door, waves at the receptionist, and then makes her way towards the PT's office.]
[ action - evening - closed to Hei ]
[She's run out of ways to distract herself, but it's still too early to sleep. So even though she's tired -- and she's always tired, reason #754 why she hates that lunatic who shot her, because just being alive never used to be this exhausting -- she heads over to Hei's apartment to say hello and maybe be distracted.
Knock knock.]
It's a little calendar notification. One year in the City! She stares at it uncomprehending (always a little slow in the mornings).
One year.
Shaking her head, she takes a minute to figure out how to make the stupid notification away and then shoves that thought -- One year -- out of her head. She's just going to go about her day as normal. Ayup.]
[ video/action - late morning - option 1 ]
[Korra is out on the beach. You can only really see her face, but the sound of the waves is unmistakable.]
Hey Chekov, get over here. Bring swimtrunks. [It's time you learned how to swim, Spaceboy.]
[ action - late afternoon - option 2 ]
[Another day, another session of physical therapy. The hospital's practically a second (third?) home to her at this point. She walks through the front door, waves at the receptionist, and then makes her way towards the PT's office.]
[ action - evening - closed to Hei ]
[She's run out of ways to distract herself, but it's still too early to sleep. So even though she's tired -- and she's always tired, reason #754 why she hates that lunatic who shot her, because just being alive never used to be this exhausting -- she heads over to Hei's apartment to say hello and maybe be distracted.
Knock knock.]
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What's her name?
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Xing, [ he says, and the wistful affection is evident in his tone. ]
[ (He notices the strangeness in Korra's behavior. Simple jealousy -- owing largely to a lack of clarification that Pai is his sister, not his lover -- doesn't occur to him yet. Sometimes it's still easy for him to forget, how uncertain and young and fragile Korra is.) ]
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Xing. That's a pretty name. [She doesn't hate this girl she's never met. Nope. Not at all. That would be stupid, and wrong and more importantly, ridiculous.
She looks at the piles of clothes -- all bright, colorful, frilly, feminine -- and adds that to the ever-growing list of things she'll never be. A real Avatar. A leader. A pretty girl. She and her stupid cane would look ridiculous in pretty clothes like these.]
I should go. You and Xing probably have a lot of catching up to do. [She's not imagining what kind of catching up that is.] I don't wanna get in the way.
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[ She's insecure. Jealous. She doesn't realize -- Exhaling, Hei shakes his head. I am such an idiot. ]
Korra.
[ He doesn't say Stop. But there's no need to. Three steps, and he's leaning at the kitchen entrance, blocking the path between the livingroom and the door. ]
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She's so sick of herself.]
What?
[You could at least let her leave with something resembling dignity.]
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[ Hei remains poised at the kitchen. But his mild look has faded into something more querulous. Part of him -- the cold, self-serving part -- says: Just let her go. He wants his space today. He has obligations elsewhere -- to Pai -- and a powerful twitchy need to avoid everything Korra is making him feel. He can't do that unless she's gone. After Pai vanished, it was like his spine was pulled out of him. Without her, he was only ever able to crawl. Looking at Korra, he's reminded of how whacked-out he was, searching for a semblance of backbone. How close he'd pulled her in -- in all the wrong ways -- when he had no right to. ]
[ Here is an unexpected flipside: taking an inventory of the nostalgia that already seems like it belonged to someone else. Hei feels like one of those people who, in the warm glow of summer, forget what it's like to walk down a frigid winter street, wrapped-up and shivering. The tangibility of his old loneliness eludes him. All because Pai has dropped back into his life, as smoothly as time reversing itself. ]
[ So? Is Korra a doll you put on the shelf because you're too busy to play with her. ]
[ Hei grits his teeth. Back home, on his last meeting with Maxley, the man had sneered: Look at you. Still pushed around by women. Well -- fuck that. It's true. The women in Hei's life have left the most livid scars. But also the best-loved. He's nurtured and framed each one, counting it among the collection of his treasured sores. A life-lesson, a Thank-You note, stamped on his psyche. He doesn't count Korra among them -- not yet. But every encounter pushes her closer there, like blood racing to a gash. ]
You do realize [ flat and terse ] Xing is my little sister.
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You have a sister?
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[ At length, ]
I do. [ Reluctantly, ] Even back home ... I haven't seen her in five years.
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Why not?
[The question pops out of her mouth before she thinks about it. It dimly occurs to her that she shouldn't ask, that he's never very good about answering questions, but she's too stunned by the revelation to even be nervous.]
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[ Hei tenses, as if he's being threatened, and doesn't quite know what's threatening him. (It's difficult -- so difficult -- to talk about Pai. Especially with Korra. Maybe his sister's return is nothing but his pathetic fantasy. He'll head out later to find her, and there'll be nothing. He'll return to his flat, and it'll be the same as ever, sparse and gloomy, the air smelling not of store-bought clothes but the fried rice he'd accidentally burned a couple of nights ago. Because that's how it goes. Anything he loves -- he probably doesn't love anything or anyone but Pai -- always leaves.) ]
She was ... taken away. [ He's surprised at himself for volunteering even this detail -- evasive as it is. He knows Korra is only asking out of curiosity. But the question turns his spine rigid as a cat's arched back, as if with some strong sense of impropriety. It feels wrong -- as if Korra expects a toting up of his and Pai's suffering, or is taking a grotesque interest in the wretchedness they'd both endured. Or as if she's jealous and requires some annoying proof that this is, in fact, his sibling. Isn't it selfish, to make him relive the whole ordeal of Heaven's War by recounting it? Isn't it obvious enough from Hei's past behaviour that he's experienced something bizarre and prolonged, back home? ]
[ She doesn't know what that something is. You have to volunteer at least a little information. He's disgustingly aware that this sounds like a rationalization. It's bothersome. ]
[ Ordinarily, he gets along well without it. Or with a cold Shut up. ]
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[The hesitance in his voice cuts through the fog of her shock, and she's aware of how pained he is and how he's not lashing out like he has in the past.
There's a little bit of hesitance in her as well as she reaches a hand out to brush his arm...then changes her mind and tries to hug him. (Comfort for him? Or just comfort for herself?)]
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[ This wasn't a pleasant conversation -- or even a semblance of it. Now she's being the kind of sweet and touchy-feely that either pisses him off, or that he doesn't know how to deal with. (Part of him thinks, with a sharp kind of ache in his chest: If you're always going to be like that, she's always going to walk on eggshells around you.) Which would be convenient. No different from his usual flings. Most of the women he's used to 'keeping' are well-indoctrinated in the Syndicate's world -- flatbackers and thieves if not other Contractors. They don't have expectations, don't spin fantasies of intimacy or run off with their mouths. They can take a shock to their life with the same broken-in silence as a slap to the face. ]
[ Yet Hei's arms move reflexively around Korra. The hug is detached. But only for a moment. In the next breath, he hitches her in tighter, his nose in her hair. He can still see her expression, in his mind's eye -- tentative and big-eyed, as if pleading with him, with the whole world, for some scrap of reassurance. This girl he should be treating only as an asset -- but can't. ]
[ Murmured quietly, into the top of her head, ]
Nothing to be sorry about.
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Yes, there is. [It's not the tragic tale of Tarrlok and Noatok, but the pain he feels is clear enough. How can she not be sorry something terrible like that happened to him? (She wonders if this Xing is one of the girls in those pictures. It would explain a lot.)]
I'm glad she's here.
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[ It's not a reaction he's experienced -- not since he was a seventeen-year-old in Heaven's War. Everything he's done since then has been almost at half-speed: detached and muted. ]
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Pulling back just a little, she leans up to kiss him. They've always communicated best this way, speaking most clearly through touch.]
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[ It's not a threatening gesture. But it is possessive. The Hei in Heaven's War did things in forceful stages, not calculated subtleties. Hard, harder, hardest. With Pai's arrival -- with the resurgence of those memories and that mindset -- he feels the inner-valves slamming open, a degenerative, electric-crackling something pushing its way out. Just below his solar plexus, it stops and crouches under his skin. ]
[ Perfectly silent, perfectly still. Ready to spring. ]
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[ His mouth opens against hers, and there's nothing careful and controlled about the kiss now. It's wet and hungry and biting, as if he wants to open her up and devour whatever's inside. One arm circles around her body, palm against the small of her back. In a jerky motion he tugs her top free from her jeans, slipping his hand underneath to ride his fingertips along the course of her spine. Thigh fitted at the juncture of her legs, moving from a lazy back-and-forth rub to a hard pressure, as if he's suddenly madly impatient, as if in the last few seconds he's moved from absorption into the heights of greed. ]
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She feigns surprise when she sees him and the girl pressed against the wall, lips locked and bodies grinding together.]
Oh. Hello.
[She doesn't look at or acknowledge Korra. She just looks at Hei, silently asking Should I leave? No embarrassment. She's walked in on worse in the battlefields of South America. (If not for Hei, she likely would have suffered worse herself.)]
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[ The rush of deja vu is so strong he's nearly transplanted back to South America. He can almost catch that irritable noise Amber used to make, a sort of long low Hnnngh followed by a huff that sent strands of green hair dancing around her face. Pai? Privacy. To his credit, Hei doesn't tense or jerk. Not-quite-detached from Korra, he turns slowly, as if the two were engaged in some slow and stately dance -- a gavotte, maybe. He doesn't scowl, but his pupils are blown and his breathing is just a smidge uneven. ]
Xing. [ Half-scolding, but not embarrassed. (The war has left the siblings with nothing that resembles propriety or personal space.) Still, his own voice sounds hollow, half-breathless in his ears. Like he's been running. Or like he's a sulky caught-out teen. He doesn't answer her unspoken question. Not yet. Even at the worst, most personal moments, Pai tends to shove everything else to the back-burner. ]
[ Instead, tugging Korra's shirt down in an absent motion, he focuses on his sister, ] You're back early.
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Korra buries her head against Hei's shoulder, but not before snatching a peek at this sister. She is the girl from the picture. Pieces click together, bit by bit.]
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Another glance at her brother asks Who is she? (Little sister isn't possessive, no. But she likes to be informed.)]
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[ For a moment, Hei stays where he is, absorbing the bright curiosity in Pai's gaze and the flushed mortification on Korra's face. The dangerous happiness of Pai's arrival still has him caked up inside. The echo of Korra's kisses still shimmers through him. Taking a breath, he shakes his head clear. Squeezes Korra around the middle -- reassurance, maybe -- before letting go. Giving both the girls wide berth, he sidles carefully toward the kitchen counter. (Not to do anything in particular. Mostly just to hide that railroad spike shoved in his pants.) Leaning an elbow on the counter, he angles his body toward Pai. Another breath, then he summons almost a genuine smile and reaches a hand out. ]
I did.
[ But I expected you to stay out later. Enjoy my not-hovering. He doesn't say that. But his dry look implies it. At her questioning look, there's a peripheral gesture toward Korra. He introduces them reluctantly, and suddenly feels so much like his old self, the soldier in the war, gathering allies or enemies, it's uncanny. Not exactly deja vu, but he feels an echo, as he says ] Xing, Korra, [ of his other voice -- UB-001, HV-117. ]
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[She isn't looking at Korra. Hardly even speaking to the other girl. Her gaze remains on Hei, obviously puzzled.
Xing? It's been so long, she hardly even knows her own name. Why is he using it with this stranger?]
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You too.
[She takes a breath and stands straight. She can see the happiness -- or at least something as close to happiness as she's ever seen in him -- and it fills her with a wistful satisfaction that almost (but doesn't quite) drowns out the pangs of lust.]
I can go. I don't want to get in the way.
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