racing stripes

"I don't do autographs." The daughter of industrialist Hiroshi Sato, she's led a privileged life but that hasn't stopped her from getting down and dirty on the racetrack. Oh, and she likes to go to those pro-bending tournaments, too. In fact, she'll kick your ass herself if you give her a reason. an Asami Sato roleplay blog

[general-iroh-the-second-deactiv]

[All in a day’s work. -goes back to replies and starters- THIS IS, and I repeat, IS and Iroh blog! -cries-]

[aabsolutum]

Shinsami, done for the lovely awakeningeden and posted by her request.

Hope you enjoy Miranda <3

[shadyashale]

[[What exactly am I drawing?

Fabulouslyfreshmako, Asami—sato, and myself (oh look, a public debut where I’m not either Chuthulu or a space marine)

Aw, lookit you Jay. Such a ladykiller.]] 

[byeeeeeeeeeeeee-e-deactivated20]

Sort of a gif piece to correlate with this and this. I’m pretty sure Zuko started the beard trend. And then this. Sorry it didn’t work, Kaytay. Anyone else revvin’ up for Zutara Week 2k12? ;3

Sobbing because beard!party isn’t canon.

[shadyashale]

[[Fast sketch of that scene from our thread ‘The Need for Speed’. Meant to get this to you like… a month ago, but that clearly didn’t happen.]]

[general-iroh-the-second-deactiv]

He isn’t used to be being held like this. 

-

ishipitsohardithurtsandcan’tstopdoodling

[general-iroh-the-second-deactiv]

[Because what if his bending was given back? What if Asami burns a hole through her knuckles fixing an engine? /WHAT IF/?]

[shadyashale]

[[ALL OVER THIS.]]

[fkakorraquality]

I lovelovelove Asami.  And I love drawing her.  And this was fun.

Also please enjoy my complete disregard for how the inside of Satomobiles actually look. 

(EDIT: slight adjustments added because I can’t let work goooo)

[120daysofdrawing]

Day 54 | 120 Ships

Bolin/Asami Sato (Legend of Korra) triggered by a line in slack-tension’s Bosami fic, Blind:

“My apartment is so empty. While your’s has…well, your’s has you in it, for starters.”

I like watercolors, but I can’t help but feel absolutely horrible at them. (Whereas Tara, LN, and Ana are BOSS at them. Guh. I can’t believe I’m friends with all of you, you guys are amazing)

[squawkinalovesong-blog]

ASEE;FKGADJS;FL[DSAJF;ADSKJF;LADSKJF;ADKJF;LKSDJFLA;DSKJFLAKSDJFLDHGNOAN!!!!!!

[sassy-asami-deactivated20121014]

As I said before, excusez-moi if I come off as a bitch.

But I dislike this here blog so much. I see a lot of confessions about how, “blahblah is the best Korra ever and no one can compete.” and etc. Do you understand how… how self-concious that can make people? If I ever saw one about another Asami, saying how great of an RPer they are, I would be heartbroken, and think my blog was terrible. I understand that it’s not the mods thoughts, but why have a blog when it’s just going to ultimately make some people sad and hurt?

[dorkbender]

[asamifuckinsato]

I click on the link, and the first thing I see is a different Asami. And I know exactly what Ally is talking about, because the first thing I thought was “Wait, what…”

“Don’t I do all those things too?”

Ehhhhh. Maybe I’m just being self conscious too, because I don’t know Asami—sato.

If it had been Ally, I probably would’ve been happy for her. 

[asami--sato-blog]

Hello there! I'm asami--sato (or OOCly Sab, if you prefer), the one who didn't even know there HAD been a confession about me until there was subsequent posting about it. I'm actually only reblogging because I feel like you all have a point that needs to be heard and made across fandom roleplay.

When did we become a community that was about competing? It's never been about that for me; I don't play to be the best, I play to have fun, to bring a character to life that I love, and I give all other players (no matter their chosen character) the benefit of the doubt that it's what they're doing, too. I personally know how intimidating it can be when other people are praised for the same thing you're doing (essentially - but I'll be the first to say we all bring different things to our portrayals), but at the same time... praise is what keeps us ALL going.

I made this blog on March 24. Well before we were introduced to Asami. Well before any of you made Asami blogs, actually. xD I'm not lording some kind of "I'M THE OLDTIMER" over you, because I'm definitely not the most prevalent Asami, I'm not the most active, and I've never tried to be. I have less followers on this roleplay blog than I do on my personal blog, that's how few I have. I'm sure all of you guys are true "greats" in terms of traffic and follower count when compared.

But the point is, I don't compare. Me to you, or you to me, or me to anyone but my own self. When my writing is poor, it's based on what I know I'm capable of, and when it's well, the same thing. We are all important parts of this fandom, every last one of us. Not a single one of us is BETTER.

My friend thought to make a confession about how much she enjoys my Asami. I'm sure all of you have had friends raving about you, or had "promos" and that kind of thing. Would you believe only two people have EVER promoted me? I was ecstatic. I fall over when people tell me they even read my page, because I often assume that nobody - and I do mean nobody - does. What I do here is so very insignificant and small.

You're not being a bitch. Your viewpoint is entirely valid. But even if every single player of one character was praised on the confessions blog, every single OTHER player of that same character would feel "left out" until it was their turn. It's kind of something you just buck up and look around, realize how many people LOVE you, audibly, who praise you often, who promote you to their own followers, who play with you. I'm certain you all get much more of that than I ever do - and I'm happy for you.

I'm going to be happy for me today because of this, though, and I hope that doesn't somehow make me an horrible person.

[dig-inandstrike-blog]

Vanilla Twilight

[dig-inandstrike-blog]

Bolin kept his breathing even. Though fatigue dragged at his eyes, he was more than certain that sleep would not come. At least, not for a long while. Not until his body rebelled and the few hours he managed to get would be thick and dreamless and serve to only make him tireder.

The glass was warming under his body heat, and he knew he should move. The coldness helped. Sometimes, it was a splash of water to the face, or a soaked towel. It cleared his mind, and that set him at ease. Being groggy meant that in battle, you were as good as dead. Not that he was fighting now- but knowing that helped in calming his racing heart.

This time, though, the addition of another voice startled him out of his calming-down routine, and in the process of shifting his head, Bolin’s flinch caused him to smack resoundingly against the window. He paid it no heed, turning sharply on his heel to find the source of the disturbance-

-Oh. Oh, that made sense. It was Asami- because this was her house and they were there to stay safe. No Equalists, no Amon with his hand of doom. 

Just a rather special girl that he realized was seeing him at his worst.

As he recovered from his surprise, he didn’t know whether to apologize, to blush, or to save face. She was an amazing friend who’d given them the chance to be great in the world of pro-bending and given them a home when they’d lost theirs again. 

“A-Asami!” His whisper was rough and shaky and he tried for a grin. He would have crossed the hallway if he was confident in his ability to do so. As it was, he simply leaned against the window and tried for nonchalance.

“Sorry, did I wake you? I’m- er- going back to bed soon…” Which was a blatant lie but the best he could come up with. She didn’t need to hear about things he should have been able to deal with by now. And everyone else didn’t need to hear either. 

[asami--sato-blog]

He clearly was not alright.

Maybe she wasn't an expert yet at entertaining real house guests, but it was a skill she'd learn - was already learning as she worked through the hiccups and made the transition as smooth and easy as possible. But she was an expert at reading people, at knowing when a smile was false because it didn't reach a person's eyes, at knowing when they were uncomfortable. Usually it was combined with a certain inherit grace in handling the situation to put her guests at ease.

It came in handy now. Being able to navigate that hallway that he couldn't, climbing the stairs and placing a cool hand on his tricep, manage the smile that failed to touch his own lips when she said, "It's okay. You didn't wake me." No, she'd been up through the night, just for vastly different reasons than he.

Something had upset him. Given his enthusiasm about being on the estate at all, she highly doubted it was the comfort of his bed or the scent of the sheets or the drape of the curtains. It was something else, something deeper...

Something she wasn't going to pry into unless he opened up.

Rather, that palm smoothed lower, curling around the inside of his elbow gently when she suggested, "I was going over the menu for the next week. Would you like to help me? We could have some tea, and I'd love your input. You know what you and your brother like to eat..." And just how much which was usually the sticky issue.

Taking his mind off of whatever horrors lurked in those shadowed corners seemed the best route to peace for another night. If neither of them got to bed, so be it. She could hardly complain about his company.

[asami--sato-blog]

ooc

I'm only going to say it once. I don't think I should even have to.

But the more you send one person negative ("hate") messages? The less likely they are to take any criticism or legitimate concerns you may have seriously. In the case of my darling friend shadyashale, I doubt even you know what you're going on about anymore.

They are a consummate roleplayer if I have ever met one. Their characterization is well-developed, well-thought, and admirably full-bodied. They've taken a character with a handful of lines and one episode and built almost more than Bryke did with their self-proclaimed main protagonists. Any issue launched at them OOCly is handled professionally, reasonably, and maturely.

By now, I'm going to assume that whatever prompts you to keep returning to their inbox so obsessively is some kind of personal vendetta, or your own insecurities when dealing with them in the past. Because as far as I can see, they have always handled themself with a level of respect and integrity to which more of the internet should aspire. And their in-character replies and responses are flawless.

I simply shake my head and pity you that you're not able to appreciate having such a fabulous writer and addition to the LOK tumblr roleplaying community.

And if you think you're going to run them off, let's just say me and plenty of others will not let you.

[dig-inandstrike-blog]

Vanilla Twilight

Bolin had thought they’d stopped.

For weeks after his run-in with the Equalists, every night ended abruptly somewhere around two or three in the morning, sitting bolt upright in bed and trying to wrestle shaking limbs into some sort of order. His breathing was thin as his chest rattled, and the first thing he did was search out the window. Over time, he’d gotten quite good at hiding it from Mako; there was no sense in them both losing sleep, and as the championships drew closer, he’d become more and more focused on winning and meeting the goal they’d been working towards for years. So much so, that he’d actually made tensions worse on the team, leaving Bo to smooth everything over.

Especially now that they had a sponsor- The memories came back to him, the muffled cry dying in his throat. He wasn’t with the equalists, nor was he in the gym’s attic. Because they had a sponsor. A sponsor that had graciously opened her home to the brothers who once again lost theirs in an attack.

That must have triggered him again. Over the weeks of trying to dive into practice and promote peace between the two other feuding members of his team, both too stubborn in their ways to conceded to the other’s style, the nightmares had eased off, and for a short blissful time, he’d actually gotten sleep.

Now he moved to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, and shaking hands were held up for inspection. The rope burns had lasted for the first few days, marring his wrists and cutting across his arms- they hadn’t worried about being gentle. The bruises that had marked his losing that initial fight were gone like the red marks, and all that was left of the encounter was a little jagged dull pink line across the side of his hand, and the trembling.

Once he was certain that his knees would hold out for a brief walk, Bolin leveraged himself up. He needed to find a window; anything that would let him see stars and sky and building lights- any distraction from the image of airships smashing through his ceiling, or dull grey walls and metal bars he could not bend.

There was one at the end of the hallway, if he remembered correctly. It was a few quiet footsteps (so as not to wake the house’s occupants) and a few feet of holding onto the wall before he arrived and was able to rest his forehead against the cool glass. The sensation anchored him to reality, and he breathed.

[asami--sato-blog]

Asami was an expert at hosting parties. Arranging seating for everyone, decorating, making sure that the menu took into account their guests' tastes, booking entertainment for any such occasion or hiring more servants to make sure no one went neglected throughout the festivities. The knowledge of just how to accommodate for last minute changes, for larger-than-expected crowds, for curveballs, all of that was part of her social repertoire.

This was nothing like a party.

Inviting her friends had seemed like a good idea - and more than that, the right idea. They were in need, and she had no reason in the world not to give from the bounty she had. What blessings were hers were hers to share, and who better than the first people she'd met who cared about her for her and not what she could do for them?

It had been one thing to get them situated in the house. Guest bedrooms were usually kept on hand, and all it had taken was overseeing a quick dusting and turn-down for beds to be ready. It was everything after that had crept up on her, like planning just how to accommodate three peoples' ideas of when to wake up in the morning, what to serve for breakfast, just how much two 'strapping young lads' would eat at a given meal. How to set up a shower schedule to work around her father's stricter business regimen, to make sure they had free run of the mansion without getting lost...

Suddenly, she realized how little details truly could make a difference. And as she stared at the menu for the next few days, complete with shopping lists required and serving sizes and a nip and tuck here and there in case Korra decided to join them, she was tired. It was well past bedtime, well past midnight and -

Wait. Had she just heard... footsteps?

One never could be too careful, and her self-defense lessons had always ever been in hopes that what happened to her mother would never happen again. With benders under their roof, it was all the more reason to be cautious, wary. She peeked her head out of the kitchen toward the bannister...

And promptly breathed an inward sigh of relief when it was just Bolin.

"Bolin," she said, quietly, with a hand waving to catch his attention from where she still was tucked in that doorway. If he wanted to join her, all the better; they could actually keep things private, peaceful for the rest of the sleeping residents. "Is something wrong?"

[minuiko]

Irosami + strip paisho

[asami--sato-blog]

Here have a link to a corresponding fic.

[asami--sato-blog]

.　

[asami--sato-blog]

to the future

[firebenderiroh-deactivated20121]

Folding his hands behind his back, a slight smile appeared on his lips. The kind words Asami spoke made him feel much better than he was earlier; to hear such compliments. It had been a long day for her. It had been a long day for everyone in Republic City. Really, helping the citizens get back on their feet is the least he and his soldiers could do. "Your words are greatly appreciated, Miss Sato. As you have already said, serving the people in Republic City is my duty, and I couldn't be more proud than to help out."

Asami was about his height, so he had no issues making the necessary eye contact with her; to show that his full attention was on her. "There is no need to worry," he assured the young lady. "You didn't interrupt anything. I was just about finished with writing a letter for the United Forces base. I need to let them know that Bumi and I will be in Republic City for a while," he explained, then asked, "Do you think they'd be alright with that? It doesn't seem like there will be any trouble that requires our forces for a while."

He then began to wonder if Asami had other plans, and if she was taking time out of her day just to come and thank him. "Is there something you're planning on doing at this moment? Because if there is, then I apologize for taking time out of your day, and I do appreciate taking that time to say your thanks." Surely, thanking him at this moment would've better fit her schedule if she did this at a later time. Iroh didn't mind her visit, but didn't want to ruin her plans for today.

"Hmm.." he began, his finger lightly tapping his chin. He was thinking whether he should stay in this room and review some things, or save that for a later time and see what everyone else was up to.

[asami--sato-blog]

She knew little about the United Forces. Truth be told, until Iroh and his fleet had come storming in, she would have thought they'd forgotten all about Republic City. It wasn't like Amon and his revolution had sprung up overnight; the streets had been growing increasingly dangerous for benders for weeks and even months. No one had saved them then.

So for him to be so willing to stay now, to clean up, to restore lives and rebuild, it meant something. More than that, to be asking her - her! - for an opinion on the matter... Suffice to say, it had been awhile since she felt her opinion was truly all that valuable.

When conversation had dwindled, she'd resorted to action. But now, it was nice to ease back into that socialization, a tool she wielded much better than a lightning glove or a mecha tank. "I don't pretend to read the minds of your commanding officers," or his mother the Fire Lord, or whoever it was that he really answered to. "But I'm sure your grandfather would be proud that you're helping the city he founded with Avatar Aang." Why would they say no? She certainly couldn't think of a reason.

"And no, I -" She had no plans, she was alone. That was the sentiment that almost slipped out but she clipped it back. In her real time of need, she had never been alone, and that was what was most important. This quiet aftermath, no matter how contemplative it might have been on behalf of the 'fallen' Avatar, was a welcome reprieve to the ordeal they'd all been through.

"I don't have any plans. I'm mostly trying to," stay out of the way, "help around the house so Pema doesn't have to leave Rohan just to get things done." It was a learning process, since she'd never done many of the menial things back in her own home. In fact, she had to reluctantly admit, "Next is probably my lesson in making respectable dumplings. I didn't even know how to prepare rice when they first took me in."

At least she could laugh at herself - somewhat.

[asami--sato-blog]

to the future

[firebenderiroh-deactivated20121]

It was all finally over: the Equalist attacks, the chaos caused by Amon, sudden bombings.. it seemed as though it had happened months ago, when it happened just recently. After the fleet of Equalist planes had bombed his fleet of ships, enough had occurred after the attack. Iroh definitely knew that without the aid of Korra and her allies, Republic City would've never seen the end to the war. Who knew so much could happen within a short amount of time?

It was quiet at the Air Temple, as if he were the only being there. The bandage gauze protecting his wound on his arm was recently rewrapped with new gauze, and the pain wasn't as much as before, thanks to Korra's healing abilities. He looked out the hexagon window, seeing that the sun's setting had painted the sky multiple colors. The end of the pen in his hand was gently being tapped on his chin, and while doing that, he looked down upon the writing on the sheet of paper laying flat on the desk. He needed to contact the United Forces that he wasn't certain when he would return, because he felt the need to help restore Republic City back to how it was before Amon caused ruckus. They would understand, most definitely. But if not, he would have to return as soon as possible.

Reading his words once again to make sure it completely explained his reasoning for staying in Republic City, he nodded his head once, satisfied with it. Iroh then sighed quietly, wondering if Bumi would even care to contact the United Forces. He was often too busy fooling around with Tenzin and his children. Iroh decided he would have to worry about Bumi later, since he already had enough to deal with.

He then heard footsteps coming down the hallway where his room was located. Click, click, click, they went. It didn't sound like boots, but of shoes with a little heel. The only one, that he knew, staying at the Air Temple wearing shoes like that was Asami. He rose from the seat and placed the pen back on the desk. Walking over to the closed door, he then slowly slid it open. The dim lights in the hallway began to come into sight.

[asami--sato-blog]

It helped that she was tall. She wasn't intimidated by his height, by the commanding presence that no doubt struck fealty into many a soldier's heart. Maybe the proof of that inspiration's absence was simply that she wasn't the fighter her father had forced her to be.

No, in a past life, she was nothing more than a porcelain doll.

That had shattered, revealed the true flint and steel beneath. Her spirit struck the same spark and flame that he could conjure, she was born of fire just as he was if she traced her lineage far enough back. Not far at all, if Republic City really could remember its roots as a humble cluster of colonies, of displaced people, all hoping to find one place - peaceful - that they could call home. Those were her people, too.

She might have been born to privilege but she was never blinded by it. And there, as that door slid away and took her breath with it, she summoned an admirable honesty in her smile when she told him, "I didn't want to interrupt -" Wouldn't have, indeed, had he not 'greeted' her there without a knock required. "But I thought I should say thank you."

At the very least, for saving her home - or what was left of it.

"I know what you're going to say," she continued, gaining momentum as she spoke, and a certain fervency to her smile, however slight. "That you were only doing your job, that you swore to give your life serving the United Republic..." Something along those lines, right? The point was, "I've seen men I thought were brave and good lose themselves." Her father. Councilman Tarrlok. "It's a choice," a very hard choice, "to do what's right. So... thank you." For choosing that, for coming to help them.