二十四

[anatural]

[ option a ]
The air is frigid, but there's no wind to make it truly unbearable. Korra stands in the middle of her training arena in the South Pole, facing Master Katara and her White Lotus teachers, who stand on a platform above her.

When she looks down, there's a knife in her hand, and Chekov sits with his back to her.

"Begin."

She brings the knife down, stabbing the young man in the back. Blood splatters on her hand, her torso, her face. She pulls the knife out and stabs him again. And again. And again. And again.

She can hear Master Katara turn to her White Lotus teachers. "You were right about her," the Avatar's wife says. "She is a failure."

[ option b ]
She's held on stage by two giant brutes, their hands gripping her arms hard enough to bruise. The stage lights burn her eyes; she can't see the crowd except as a faceless mass surrounding her on all sides. Her attention isn't on them, anyway. Her entire focus is on the other side of the stage, where the leader of the Equalists stands.

"I am not without compassion or justice," Amon says. "I will give the Avatar the chance to fight to keep her bending."

The guards holding her arms let go and Korra immediately unleashes a volley of fireballs. Amon charges at her and dodges each one, moving like a leaf in the wind. She tries to block him with a column of earth, but the stage is made of wood. She wipes the sweat from her brow and sends it flying as razor sharp icicles, but Amon is already gone -- behind her -- twisting her arm and forcing to her knees.

In a moment, with a simple touch to her forehead and a blinding flash of pain, it's over. Her bending is gone.

Korra slumps to the ground as the crowd roars in approval. She doesn't have the strength to resist when Amon kicks her, sending her off the stage with a brutal shove. What does it matter, anyway? Things can't get any worse.

The crowd parts, allowing four shadowy figures to approach.

"What use is an Avatar who could not save her friends?" she hears Amon ask the crowd as the ghouls of Asami, Mako, Bolin, and Tenzin advance on her. "What use is an Avatar who cannot even save herself?"

[ option c ]
Her limbs are twisted, contorted, wrong. The pain is agonizing, but not nearly as bad as the feeling that her body is not her own. Her very blood is bent to Tarrlok's will. With it, Tarrlok sends her floating down the stairs, down into an airless steel container. She screams, struggles, but she can't stop him from throwing her inside and closing the door.

"YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS, TARRLOK!" she screams, pounding on the door. "LET ME OUT!"

Except she's no longer seventeen, but seven. It's dark and she's scared and she doesn't know where her parents are. The door opens and she stumbles out.

The old man leers down at her, and the woman too, and other faces she knows from the Underground. She throws fireballs at them, and boulders, and jets of water, but the crowd just laughs and the circle around her grows smaller and smaller.

[ option d ]
When the nightmares become too much to bear, her past lives step in.

Aang offers her a memory of Tenzin's childhood -- a warm summer day on Air Temple Island. He, Katara, young Kya, Bumi, and little Tenzin are playing on the beach. He passes on a pure, easy joy.

Roku offers her a memory of a quiet moment in his garden -- no people around, only a warm cup of tea in his hands and the peaceful sounds of animals around him. He passes on a feeling of serenity.

Kyoshi offers her a memory of her lover -- a sweet-tempered woman who steadied the earth beneath her feet, who shared the burden of the decisions she had to make. She passes on the comfort of her love's embrace.


[OOC: Hit with Dream Vortex - take your pick! You can mix and mingle, have one dream transition into another if you so choose. A & B, characters can interact with Korra as she is now; in C, characters would interact with baby!Korra; and in option D, characters would interact with either Aang, Roku, or Kyoshi.]

Comments

[ option b ]

[mortemscintilla]

[ (It starts with waking from a nightmare. And ends with stepping into one.) ]

[ (In the dead of night, Hei springs awake from a dream that has him snatching for the blade under his pillow. Nothing. It's nothing. The sheets are unpleasantly warm over his sprawled body. He jerks up, pushing the damp hair off his face. He's in a feverish sweat, the room a hotbox, suffocating behind the drawn blinds. Flipping them open, he steps out barefoot onto the balcony. Leans on the rail with closed eyes, and lets the air dry his moist skin. In the single-digit hours when the City is its quietest, he can best put the images of last weekend out of sight. Beneath the open sky, the fugue in his mind calms.) ]

[ (But he should know by now that Calm is synonymous with Expect Disaster in his life.) ]

[ His first entrance into Korra's dream is like submerging into a murky pool, imagery rippling at the edges around him. What the -- ? From the balcony he's suddenly somewhere else. Brightly-lit, facing a stage. A knot of people are crowded around him, peering up at a masked man and a kneeling girl, whispering to each other. He hears one say, "I thought she was supposed to be taller." Hei's eyes widen and his hand goes to his forehead like that'll help because, Am I hallucinating? ]

[ It's only when Amon boots Korra off the stage that he realizes -- It must be a curse. A curse where he's somehow eyewitness to Korra's -- mind? Memories? Shit. Shit. ]

[anatural]

[Traitor her friends -- the ghouls she tries to remind herself, but it doesn't quite work -- hiss. Korra forces herself to her feet. With such a vital piece of herself missing, she feels disconnected from her body, like her limbs no longer have to listen to what she says.]

You're not real. Amon is lying. [In this dream world, there is no City; the people she knows and the things she's done are incorporated into her home world.]

He's lying about everything.

[Unpersuaded, the ghouls advance closer.]

You're not real!

[mortemscintilla]

[ The crowd murmurs and jostles around Hei. He tries to ignore the creepy quotient. The awareness that he's been somehow hijacked -- body-snatched -- into her psyche. He watches her intently as the ghouls close in on her, his face blank, but he can't blanken his eyes. It's not exactly a shock that she dreams of the zombies, that it melds with memories of the man who'd snatched her bending. That she struggles against monsters at night like Hei tries so desperately to wash away the dreams where he is the monster. ]

[ For a moment, he's silent. Caught halfway in a superstition that something terrible will occur if he intercedes. But then he decides -- Fuck it. ]

Korra. [ Not angry, but pitched to a shout. ] Get up. You're dreaming.

[ And I'm not supposed to be here. If he can communicate with her -- find a starting point -- maybe he can retrace it to the finish. Find an egress. ]

[anatural]

[Hei's voice cuts through the crowd, catching Korra's attention, and she looks at him, confused.

Big mistake. Mako takes that moment to charge at her and it's by luck alone that she manages to spin out of his reach. But luck doesn't change the numbers. The other ghouls come at her and there's no time to wonder if Hei is right and this really is a dream. She punches and kicks, trying to keep them off her. She doesn't have the strength for a fight, but this isn't the time to let that stop her.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Should he get involved? Should he not? It's her dream, after all. It can't hurt her -- or him for that matter -- although it doesn't explain why he's been snatched into it. Not that it matters now. The analytical aspect of Hei's mind has already whirred into gear. Checking out the scenery, the clothing, the snatches of languages, the hints of technology. Anything he'd ever furtively imagined about the young Avatar's homeworld, beyond what curses have revealed -- well, there's considerably less left to wonder. ]

[ He's in Korra's mind. And through it, one mesosphere away from her reality, her self -- a reality and self warped by dreams. Through-The-Looking-Glass levels of surreality and truth. ]

[ Act now. Cerebrate later. ]

[ Maybe if he helps her chase the ghouls off -- makes her understand she's trapped in a dream -- he'll be able to escape. ]

[ He's barefoot in shorts and a T-shirt. But even dressed like a ten-year-old, he's never helpless. While the crowd bumps and heaves around him, Hei makes his move. Using the pile of crates he's backed against as a fulcrum, he kicks up and out, launching himself feet-first at the closest ghoul. The creature's jaw snaps beneath the angle and weight. Ow. Barefoot fighting is less fun than it looks in Bruce Lee flicks. Even as he trods across its limp form, he jumps at another, who screeches as Hei grabs its head, wrenching the jaw sideways to dislocate the spine, before landing neatly on his feet as it crumples behind him. ]

[ Come on, Korra. Take the opening. Finish the rest. ]

I HAD THIS TAG WRITTEN AND THEN MY PHONE ATE IT

[anatural]

[Korra watches Asami crumble to the ground as Hei swoops in. Watches him twist Mako's neck, a sickening crunch as his spine breaks. Just like he had threatened to do.

A low groan is the only warning she gets before Bolin grabs her arm; fortunately, she's able to use his momentum against him and flip him to the ground, but Tenzin is right at her back.

While Korra struggles with her friend and her mentor, Amon stands at the lip of the stage.]

It seems the Avatar has a guardian.

[He jumps down between Hei and Korra.]

But this is not your fight.

it's okay <333

[mortemscintilla]

[ (Hei operates on calculation and underlying paranoia. It's not unfounded, especially in this instance. He's unsure how far he can interact ((re: kill)) elements in Korra's dream. Unsure if it'll end up with lasting damage on the girl's psyche -- or physical damage on him.) ]

[ When Amon cuts in between him and Korra, Hei's expression hardens, his arms coming up, his body blading to the left, the old soldier's training kicking in, readying him to attack. This might be a dream. It might not. But his mind has sliced off that superfluous stickle. At this point he's simply graphed out a series of steps. Readied himself to put them into motion. ]

[ Amon gets neither a rejoinder or a scowl. Instead Hei moves, forward and down, his leg sweeping to deliver a scythelike kick to drop the man. All he needs is close range. Just the brush of his fingers (hell, his bare foot) to send a deadly voltage dancing into his system. ]

[anatural]

[Amon jumps, neatly avoiding Hei's kick, and two chi blockers emerge from the crowd and charge at him.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Perfect. Hei's gaze sweeps from Amon to the chi blockers, detours for the fraction of a millisecond to Korra's fight against the ghouls, then resettles on his three opponents. He's operating on instinct now -- searching for openings and weak-spots. He makes one final recalculation, completely reflexive and intuitive -- then lunges. Not at Amon or his henchmen, but at the corner wall, where the moorings to the spotlights above are knotted firmly to a hook. ]

[ His palm settles on the first knot. A flare of electricity, and he burns through the dense rope with a zzzt. The counterbalance is thrown off, and the spotlight crashes down -- a safe distance from Korra, but right for the chi blockers. He's not here to play with a masked lunatic (ha! look who's talking!) and his cronies. ]

[ His objective is to wake Korra up. ]

[anatural]

[Sorry, Hei. There is no waking from a cursed slumber.

Nor do any of the usual rules apply. The spotlight crashes down, and as the sparks fly, the scenery changes. The crowd and stage vanish; the chi blockers were never there. They're alone in a barren storage room. Even the ghouls are gone, but when Korra stands, she finds herself trapped once again, in the grip of Amon's bloodbending.

In the world of nightmares, the unresolved terror is king.

As before, Amon's attention isn't on her. He's already taken her bending, after all; without that, she's worthless. The Equalist's attention is almost entirely on Hei.]

You are a talented bender. It's almost a shame to take it away.

[With a flick of his wrist, he bends the blood in Hei's veins, locking the contractor in place.]

Almost.

[ooc: It can fail to work for whatever reason you want, or Korra will come to the rescue in the next tag. hay thur mako parallels]

[mortemscintilla]

[ It's like being trapped in the Gate. Vast and convoluted and mysterious, with that disorienting sense of overlap born from fast-shifting scenery. It's sudden as a trap-door opening under his feet -- one moment the spotlight crashes with a thunderous impact -- the next moment, there's a hollow silence, the echo of the storage room all around him. ]

[ It's a dream. You can't fight it any more than Korra can. There's no sense or sequence. ]

[ Even as he acknowledges this, he isn't going to play passive. He's been shaped, by training and instinct, to fight every step of the way. Amon's shadow looms over him, and Hei swoops in to make his move. But the moment he tries to, he's jerked back like some unseen bully has shoved him down. What the hell? Telekinesis? Mind-control? He doesn't know, and tries to resist; his muscles flex, but he can't move. His face is caught in vicious glower. All he can do to is narrow his eyes at Amon. ]

[ I'm no bender. ]

[ But if you lay one finger on me, I'll show you what I can take away. ]

[ ooc: bloodbending would be a legit barrier since, well, he is human. The moment Amon touches him, he's liable to deliver an electric voltage tho.' Korra can rescue/intervene in her next tag ♥ ]

[option a]

[riceballfruit]

Tohru's dreams were, more often than not, simply filled with mundane things of her daily life sifting into some order. Once in a while they would turn confused. Sometimes they were sad.

Her current one had been bland, setting out the ingredients for dinner. She bustled in the kitchen, then had to stop, abruptly, confused. No knives. None in the sink. None in the drawers. They were all missing. Without it, she couldn't advance with dinner. Korra has it, a little voice whispered. Baffled she walked from the kitchen, intending to call for Korra.

But it was no longer their Beach House. Even she fills the cold, dressed in her modest clothing. Her eyes widen. The bitter wind can't reach Tohru once she registers the scene in front of her.

There are other people talking, she's vaguely aware of their existence, but Tohru only sees Korra, even as her vision blurs over. 'This can't be real,' she thinks to herself. 'Not Korra.... Korra would never do this.'

Her voice is hardly ever loud, but she raises it now, "Korra!" shouting with effort as she runs, hands reaching to stop the blade, catch Korra's hand, her arms, anything.

"Stop!"

[anatural]

[Another twitch, and Amon twists Hei's arms behind him at a cruel angle. Korra struggles against Amon's hold on her.]

Stop it! Leave him alone!

[She's forgotten that Hei's not a bender, that his power comes from another source, and that even now, he's more of a threat to Amon than Amon is to him. The only thing she can think is Not again. (There's anger, too, that she hadn't noticed before. A shame to take away his bending, but not hers? As though his talent was greater, his ability more special. It's galling.)

Amon ignores her and advances on Hei. No. No no no no NO

She breaks free of his grasp with a choked scream. Not only breaks free, but reaches out and bloodbends him in turns. (A thing only possible in nightmares.) Caught in Korra's grip, Amon is forced to release Hei.]

No! How?

[She could kill him. She could kill him so easily. All it would take is one...little...squeeze...]

[a]

[candothat]

[For a moment, Chekov has difficulty differentiating between Korra's nightmare and one that he has been revisiting. In the way of dreams, he finds himself shifting between one place and another--from being seated, being stabbed, to standing just outside of the scene. A phantom pain sparks in his back.

He reaches out (he's an observer now, nothing more) to grab Korra's arm, to make her stop. Anything he wants to say is caught in his throat, trapped by the kind of unadulterated fear that only nightmares inspire.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei feels his body contort; not by himself, but half-levitating into the air. His pose is stiff and frozen, and there's pain on his face, but its overlapped too strongly by the cold burn of wrath. In the background, he hears Korra's shrieks. (He's seen her memory on the Network just months earlier. He knows the dream is playing out -- deliberately? subconsciously? -- a parallel of the ordeal shared between her and Mako.) Except he's no Mako. Even blood-bent, his flat gaze is uncanny, the bloodlust within all too apparent. ]

[ That's it. Take another step closer. ]

[ A scream presages Korra's escape from Amon's hold. He watches the man go rigid in turn, feels that unbearable pressure within his own body fade -- before he slumps to the floor. There's a quick moment to catch his breath -- gather his bearings. Scrambling up, he takes in the scene -- Amon, immobilized in Korra's hold. The rage in her eyes. ]

[ Hei approaches in a wide circle, keeping his gaze pinned on Amon. But his question is aimed at Korra. ] Going to kill him? [ In a burst of deja vu, he hears his own toneless voice over a crackle of flames: No, Mai. Don't do it. Except Mai was a Contractor. A killer. Korra isn't. ]

[ Or, at least, she needn't be one, when she has a choice not to. ]

[option a]

[anatural]

[Except she can and she has. Korra looks up when Tohru shouts, the blade falling from her bloody fingers.]

You're not supposed to be here.

She's right. [her earthbending master says] This is not your test.

[a]

[anatural]

[Korra stops when Chekov grabs her arm, and stares at it uncomprehendingly for a long moment. Finally she looks up.]

Chekov? You're dead.

[The knife in her hand is now a shovel. The body at her feet is Bolin.]

[option a]

[riceballfruit]

But I am.

[At first Tohru looks like she's about to get between Korra and the blade, but once the earthbending master has spoken, she turns, between him and Korra, instead, arms out.]

This shouldn't be anyone's test! This is wrong!

[anatural]

If I let him go, he'll only attack more people.

[Isn't that what Hei had told her before? To kill her friends, because they would only attack more people if they got out.]

[a]

[candothat]

[Ah. Not his nightmare, then. That makes the fear ebb away into panic, and then into little more than confusion. He knows the body--who the body was, at any rate--and is immediately reminded of the ghouls.

Hopefully this isn't about the ghouls.

(Then again, if it's not the ghouls, then Korra has just killed another friend. Better for him, maybe, but not for her.)]

Apparently not.

[mortemscintilla]

It's your decision, not mine.

[ Her dream. Her rules. Hei would be the last person to dispute that revenge -- murder -- is a valid means for closure and catharsis. But in this case, it's not the morality that concerns him. It's the mindlessness. Will killing this figment of her nightmares finally put Korra at ease? Or prove to herself that she's more monstrous than Amon ever was -- and guarantee that her dreams will never be sweet again? ]

[ He has no idea. (But, as with Pai, if she backs down, he's fully prepared to make the kill for her.) ]

This isn't real, you know. It's a dream. [ But there's no way of knowing if invisible consequences will bleed through in her waking life. The City's curses are volatile elements. ]

[option a]

[anatural]

It is not your test.

She doesn't even know what the test is.

The test is over anyway.

She failed.

[The knife vanishes, as does Chekov's body. The entire setting changes to the sewers in Republic City.]

[a]

[anatural]

[Korra looks down at the shovel in her hands and drops it to the ground.]

You should leave.

[It's not angry. It's for his own good. She's already hurt him; she doesn't want to do it again.]

[anatural]

[She just looks at him. Are you shitting me?

Clearly disbelieving.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei shuts his eyes so she doesn't see him rolling them, and rubs his temples. ]

[ Yeah, kiddo. It's a dream. Why else would he be in Mako's place? In shorts and such a dignified T-shirt, no less. ]