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. ]

[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!"

[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.]

option d;

[bookbending]

[Jinora has the good fortune of missing the first three scenes. She finds herself on Air Temple Island--but not quite the same island she left.]

option A;

[lawbender]

[ It is so cold, the kind of cold that bites hard into bone, and Lin is standing on a platform. She is in the South, she knows, in the way you know such things in dreams. She is standing next to Aunt Katara and White Lotus officials, and this is when she sees Korra and the knife and a boy she doesn't know. She shouts, but is unable to move, forced to watch for this moment. ]

Korra! Korra!