no title

dog eats dog eats nothing

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code dead

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nhjinga‌:

ddmaiga:

and you? ( * despite his immunity from this new manhunt, she still can’t help but worry and it shows ) ( * then there’s the question of the person beside him. there’s a nagging feeling when she lets her gaze drift away from jin, only to meet the stranger’s eyes and—oh? ) ( * she lets her stare linger long enough for gun to know that she knows, which isn’t long, but hopefully their streak of silent mutual understanding hasn’t died down since the last time they’ve seen each other ) are—are you both okay? ( * it’s only courteous to ask, especially coming from her. that’s not to say the question is insincere. far from it, actually )

( ` in the scatter of his thoughts and senses, sian’s quiet distress is missed entirely. wide-eyed, the dumbstruck expression on jin’s face uncharacteristically profound ) we’re fine. ( ` one breath to gather his thoughts, another that gets caught in his throat, suddenly sick with the realization. even if she dons a disguise, there’s still no taking chances. ) ( ` voice drops low, solemn and urgent ) you shouldn’t be by yourself. ( ` he follows the way her eyes trail over his shoulder, which he mistakes as a sign to clear the air ) 

he’s with me. ( ` steps forward and aside to allow mai a better glimpse of their companion ) don’t worry.  (  ` his gaze finds sian’s, and it’s a wordless plea ) the sooner we get back to the inn, the better. ( ` the full truth of her identity is left out with reason. any and all explanations will have to wait. ) ( ` is further amiss to the fact he’s the real outlier between the three of them—both in how far shared histories go back, and the complex dilemma that is afoot in this very second ) ( ` for now: there’s safety in numbers. ) 

going in circles now, are we? ( ` he jokes last minute, almost interrupting, clearing the air of anything that lingers. survival instinct? might just be his charm and strange but not exactly poor timing ) we left it yesterday, but there’s nothing for us past it. ( ` eyes land on jin for a beat to confirm, making sure he knows just as much as he says he does. kind of hard to question it otherwise when nobody else was physically with them anyway ) hit a dead end. ( ` motions for mai with his head to come over to his side rather than in between them, subtle. ) could use some help figuring out another way around this with one more brain. ( ` code for catch up. as per usual, he’s winging it )

( ` and yeah, we’re okay. ) ( ` he can finally take a proper breath. ) ( ` now we are. )

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muted

Air Temple Island, four years ago

"Can I bribe you for one of these?” Their fur is simultaneously soft and worn, known by one too many willing touches. Gun is tempted to rest his cheek on the bison’s torso just to see if it would be any different against his face (sure), opting to look back over his shoulder at Soliya instead. It’s not a not serious inquiry, but something’s telling in, well, reality that this cannot be so.

Frowning but also not really, he lingers away from the air bison and resumes however he was when he’d first gotten here. Poised, diplomatic as expected given his “reasons” for being on the island in the first place. This instance is one in jest, but he carries on with it, not breaking character as he walks back to his only other companion of the hour. “You’re waiting for me to say I’m joking, huh?” One glance back at the animal, sight set longer again on her. He doesn’t break eye contact nor a smile, pinching his top with both hands and flaring it in case simply wearing these clothes didn’t say enough alone. “I have the means, y’know.” Saving it for... now, his lips curve up, sentiment reaching his eyes as he walks past her with the silent hope that he has more than this with her for today.

"Father thinks I’m here for business one hundred percent, but.” Gun sets his gaze on what lies before them, opting to be lost in both its wonder and his silence. “What about yours?” 

A little reassurance hasn’t ever killed anyone, has it?

@gasoliya​

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code dead

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nhjinga‌:

ddmaiga:

(...)

( * slowly stops in her tracks, even if going ahead seems like a better option ) jin? ( * despite the time that has passed, his name never lost its familiarity. instead of saying anything else, she bites her tongue and waits, gaze drifting to the figure to his left briefly before returning to him )

( `  traveling doesn’t come without its hiccups, but here they’re speaking barricades, and it towers over them, ominous ) ( `  two silver linings: they don’t have much in terms of the distance or what’s there to return to )

( `  the streets are as empty as they were when they’d left, first thing—out of respect, out of grieving. he has half a mind to attend, only to check the current climate at least, maybe meet some fellow stragglers in a similar dilemma ) ( `  for now, it’s just a thought. sian’s question prompts a curious hum, eyes roving over without many expectations then— ) 

…i— ( `  memory floods in quick, a whirlwind of too many emotions all at once, enough to make him physically take a step back.  ) mai… ( ` saying her name alone is a reaffirmation. ) what are you doing here? 

( ` his ears perk up, eyes widening when the other two exchange familiarities, gun desperate to see if it’s just him imagining worst case scenario, moreso than remaining an enigma to them both. but you can’t, he begs. ) ( ` and yet he aches. overwhelmed, a different kind of burn sears through, head still low, meekness embarrassingly out of character. not that it matters what jin thinks of it; it’d just really pay if mai pretended she didn’t know any better ) ( ` how selfish can you be? )

( ` have you still not learned enough? )

( ` holding his breath, he only steals a glance. it wouldn’t help his case if he were to excuse himself from their reunion, what with that being rude and depriving him from his own. again, can he really afford that though? or is he worse off not seizing this? it’s been a long few days, a week just around the corner if he can’t bite his tongue. the curiosity unsatisfied would only drag him anyway ) ( ` when jin steps back, he stands still, respecting his space. it’s beyond him why he isn’t any more shocked about them knowing each other than mai recognizing them both. that is if you’ll look up. )

( ` an inhale ) ( ` counts backwards in his head from five, hand fidgeting at his side ) ( ` he lifts his chin and takes a look at jin, lingering, long enough for mai to put two and two together. the hat stays on, but he redirects his attention to her, acknowledging that she, too, dons a color unfamiliar to home )

( ` you get it, right? )

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code dead

@nhjinga @ddmaiga

( ` tugs at his collar repeatedly, fanning himself with his clothing. weather isn’t too uncomfortable, but being in constant motion for the past few days has got him weary. the sun’s up high, hat on his head a small blessing. he’s trying not to complain. given the circumstances, there technically isn’t much to complain about in the first place ) ( ` brows furrowing, he squints at what he sees ahead, familiar with the scene seeing as how they’ve been here just yesterday. something’s out of place, however. it isn’t too out of place for someone to be around; they aren’t the only two people in the world. but a funny feeling sinks in anyhow, and it isn’t just from not having taken a proper break after their last meal )

you see them too, right? ( ` it’s not reasonable to be paranoid in broad daylight, but ) ( ` nods at the growing figure coming their way, half hoping jin will humor him and say no. he could use a laugh, it’s almost always lonely with strangers ) ( ` they don’t stop in their tracks, assuming the person’s passing by them to their own destination too. the closer they get, however, sian makes out the traveler’s face, growing more and more unsettled at what’s to come )

( mouths mai, like a question, wishing he was uncertain about it. if he could afford to be happy about seeing a familiar face, in a time like this, no less, that’d be his go-to. but he can’t ) ( ` swallows hard, slowly shifting away from jin’s left side and switching to the other, dipping his hat lower in hopes she hadn’t gotten the chance to read his face yet, won’t get to ) ( ` way to not be sus )

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poker

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zuerga:

[...]

“That’s fine.” It’s a long-winded game of deception they play. One she abhors yet participates all the same. When the options are: do this or be reprimanded on the daily till you absolutely lose it—the verdict is really quite predictable. At the very least, Zu’er had been appreciative that they were on the same page. It’s a matter of showing it (when the sight of him seems to gnaw away at an already short fuse) that’s the issue.

“Let’s hope this doesn’t turn into another one of those drawn out arguments about whether it’s Omashu or Basingse that gets to house the future Avatar.” A tired dispute. Who cares where a baby would live anyway? She runs a hand through her hair and bites back a sigh, eyes flicking over his face. Notes the same tired I-hate-this-too-dude look on his face and quietly contemplates her following words. “Otherwise, I think we should plan an escape plan.”

Olive branch, maybe.  (Don’t hold your breath)

Her voice doesn’t have the same booming factor her father’s does. Rather, it’s sturdy, more grounded. Composed but not in the way where it patronizes him. Surely that’s just how she is and not an image she’s forced to keep when she’s not home. After all, it’s just the two of them here. For now.

Gun gives a small nod, his laugh quiet and dry. “It’s petty, yeah.” He thinks of the Beifongs, how low they lay from all of this without having to try. The Dahdis a beat after, a painfully obvious thirdwheel to these Romeo-and-Juliet-esque affairs. But they’re not star-crossed in that likeness. There’s no love here on anyone’s part, and if their fathers wanted to pass it off like that, well.

His interest is piqued more when he hears Zu’er say the magic word. Escape. There are only so many things the both of them can dream to not be a part of, but it may be safe to say this is first on their respective lists. “Sure,” he says, cautious. It’s hard to tell if she means it but he doesn’t mind pushing the conversation to where it could be. “No windows we can jump out of here safely from, but we’ll make it work.” His jaw goes slack trying not to appear amused with his own idea of easing the tension in the air, tongue in cheek as he shies away from looking wherever she is. “We don’t have enough time though.”

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my brain broken 😄 so i’ve been playing games on my switch to take a break from thinking but catch me on ruby soon! if i haven’t plotted with you on here (especially for the event)!

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none the richer

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ddmaiga‌:

she shrugs, more concerned than she lets on about the scent clinging to her clothes but unbothered otherwise—or maybe just tolerant. nothing new here. while habits like that never appealed to her, she couldn’t fault others for taking them up, never really the judgemental type unless it came to herself. at his question, mai nearly shrugs again but opts for a small smile instead. 

“not sure i have one,” no point lying, is there? “not like that, at least.” 

it’s an aimless walk and mai isn’t sure where her feet are taking her, yet pays no mind to it. she thinks over his question a bit more. “envy, maybe.” she leaves it at that. after letting her gaze fall to the cigarette between his fingers, she looks back to the path before them. “when did you start?”

Oh, that one’s funny. Gun makes sure she knows, his laugh breathy as he looks forward with her. He sniffles then, contemplating on giving Mai the truth or humoring her with his best impression of her favorite: that classic old shrug. Neither, he decides. “Today.”

Evening's doing that marvelous thing where it’s night in a matter of minutes, orange to purple to blue to black. Not real black, though it feels darker tonight than most other times. Of course it’s impossible for the sky to not have stars, but he imagines they don’t give enough of a shit for this world to always shine bright. Maybe they get their days off, simply because they can. Something to be thankful for, he thinks, for speculation’s sake. He hadn’t done much talking back in the hall but he doesn’t feel a need to make up for it here. “Wouldn’t recommend it,” Gun finishes, both his sentiment and the cigarette. He leaves it at that. The rest of the pack can wait. “Makes envy look good.”

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tiptoe

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nhjinga‌:

He stands with a stretch, finding relief from the tension in his shoulders like automatic with the movement. Carefully manuevering around Sian’s mattress, Jin steps into the bathroom slippers and heads for the basin. The reflection that stares back looks better than it had three nights ago: eyes less bleary, the exhaustion that has sunk into the contours of his face seemingly permanent but not nearly as obvious. After a couple of splashes: better. If one can’t be alert, they can at least look the part. 

Returning with two towels in his hands, Jin wordlessly places one down next to where Sian sits before reaching for his bag. Inside: two spare shirts, and a decent amount of essentials to be considered as enough; with less time spent within the borders of the Fire Nation, it’ll be more than just enough. 

He shrugs out of his shirt and into a crisp, clean one. “We can make it happen.” He says it with bland certainty, as if the heat’s got nowhere to go but up from here, and that they’ll make it—out of here, and somehow. The shirt’s done up to the second to last button and he makes a move for the stairs in the hallway. “Take your time.” 

Blind trust, they call it. It isn’t the same as taking the shirt without another word, getting up from the bare floor, wincing in the process of standing on his two feet. He’s so, so sore, the ache in his muscles deeper than anything else right now, an immediate slouch ensuing, a silent cry next. Ow, he mouths. Even an inch of movement would give him away for something he can’t fathom he ever was.

That life was a mere four days ago. Sian’s hand lands on the small of his own back for support as he paces himself to the washroom, the air stronger in touch than in sound. He can’t help thinking of what Jin would be thinking just at him already looking so gaunt. Actually, he can’t help himself at all. God knows what he’d be if luck weren’t a thing.

Move with a purpose, mother would always say. Someone’s.

—

His posture’s a little straighter when they reunite downstairs, cheeks just as sunken in, appetite a bigger beast. A hand, clutching the fabric over his stomach as if that will appease it in any way. Sian nods in acknowledgment of Jin and any other dwellers before joining the former at his side, licking his lips, sight set on a possible kitchen, communal eating space, however it goes. “Uh, door’s closed, room’s clean,” he tells him. There’s a gust of wind with the next guest coming in at the entrance on their left, more sticky than it is cool. This obviously blows. “Radio says the forecast has us expecting high temperatures for the rest of the day, and then.. a song.” The radio had a song, not the day, he almost clarifies. Wonders just how much Jin can read about someone in a single once-over. Whether small talk’s overkill or just another one of those things. When they’ll eat, and what. Who’s on his mind when he isn’t home.

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poker

Three weeks ago, pregame

When people pace back and forth in a situation that wracks their nerves, how much does that actually say about them in the moment? How about biting their nails? Two sides of the same coin, essentially.

Between them, he’s learned so far, this is how it is.

It doesn’t take much to get her into the room with him alone. Only one look from him to come inside, a few from some others in varied interest as he closes the left door behind Zu’er. At the sure sound of a click, Gun takes a breath and lets it go when she’s in his vision of sight once more, raising his brows. His version of “hello”.

There’s an upward tug of his lip driven by the thought of borrowed time, time he figures isn’t so bad to share if it’s spent getting this right. “I’ll sit next to you tonight,” he starts, hand drifting away from the doorhandle. “We’ll sit next to one another. Joint effort, all that jazz.” Clears his throat, eyes eventually meeting hers to see if she’s got anything to add. “We don’t have to be close, just–” Racking his brain for words, he squints, patting the side of his face as if to wake up. If not from a nightmare, this feeling like one of those dreams that have some abstract meaning that doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to has yet to hold true. “You know.”

Not like I’m in a position to mind. To humor her with that out loud is a gamble, as everything else lately has been.

@zuerga

[kramlabs]

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none the richer

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ddmaiga‌:

mai slows down ever so slightly when she hears him, even if she’d been looking forward to the minute the meeting ended. it seems the feeling had been mutual in that they’re both looking for a way out. it gets suffocating in that room, with her and her father being on the opposing side for most matters discussed, and she doesn’t know how gun does it, especially if her impression is right.

“it’s a bit warm for my liking.” the meeting didn’t go how she liked, as most of them often do. she’ll have to grow used to that feeling soon because there’ll come a time where she won’t be able to rush out like she can now, her inexperience, in this case, being more of a privilege than a simple excuse. “it could be worse, i suppose.” she’s no longer talking about the weather.

“Tch, yeah.” He grins, but the smile isn’t really there. “Wish it were better though.” And not the weather. The weather’s perfect, the one thing home can get right. “A lot better.”

Treading carefully, he pauses in both his tracks and thoughts. Fishes a pack of cigs from his front pocket, a lighter from the other. Takes one stick out of the carton, placing the short end in his mouth but only after he asks Mai if she minds. Gun doesn’t wait for an answer for too long, keen on proceeding either way. Lighting it up, he draws in a whiff, the smoke languid and wispy in the air as he exhales and puts the lighter back in its initial place. Has half a smile on, this one genuine. It’s the kind where he knows his father’s watching while chatting up with a fellow meeting coordinator (subordinate, more like), careless. All Revered Lord Zun prefers to call it juvenile, like he’ll grow out of it eventually. Kid’s been known for it, however. The washout of the buzz around them is indulged in for a few more moments, cigarette coming down to his side, the box of the rest still in his other hand. “What’s your vice?”

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tiptoe

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nhjinga‌:

He stirs only at the sound, casting a cursory glance from over his shoulder before his gaze settles on the adjacent bare wall. The day has just reached the halfway mark, but with the way time tapers and stretches itself thin through the havoc, an hour feels like three under the haze of unease. He’s as much of a stranger to such circumstances as the next person, and the residual strain in Sian’s voice speaks to the same feeling, however that may be. 

The mugginess in the room is persistent, near-smothering with the heat to match, but Jin does nothing to resist against it. It’s better this way—to catch their breath while they can, and let sleeping dogs lie. Those that remain in the Capital weren’t spared the chance to do neither as such. 

Jin sits up. Despite the humidity, the sunlight that beams through the window is welcome. Clarity is always reassuring and found in the little things, as he’s come to learn. He remains still, thinking. Outside, there’s little to show for human life save for the stray pedestrian, but perhaps that’s for the better. Less chance for unwarranted curiousity in a town as quiet as this one, and it’s a much needed change of pace. 

“Wash up first,” he says at last, shifting his weight off of the futon with a sigh. “It’ll be cooler downstairs.” 

"In a bit.” His back is flat on the floor, bedhead apparent but no sign of sleepiness otherwise. Yawning once, he follows in rising up from his spot but stays put in his place, allowing the other to occupy the washroom first. Cicadas hum not too far from here, the screen of the window useless in keeping smaller miscellaneous bugs out. No bites appear on his skin, just scars from being tossed around by the way of the crowd, bare arms grazing against rough textures.

These worries feel trivial, but they’re still all that plague his mind. “Feeling” feels like a job more than something he has to do. What are 3 AM thoughts if these are the ones he has at near 1 in the day? “What if it’s not?” is a delayed reaction, Gun turning his head to check if Jin is still close.

Sian.

Right on. He looks down at his hands, blinking a few times. There’s work to be done.

Getting there.

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none the richer

Six years ago, post-council Ba Sing Se

“Mai.” His voice is quiet but not small, a contrast to how it is within those high walls. He could say all he wants but never not at the cost of being shut down during the point he’s trying to make. So tonight there’s a gut feeling he wants to follow up on, something that tells him he might not be so alone in feeling defeated. She’s one of the first out of the hall. All the more reason to bother her while he can.

Gun shuffles down the steps, catching up to her with ease. If she’s in a hurry, it does take one to know one. Hopefully for the reasons he suspects. Otherwise, scratch the whole “I am you, you are me” sentiment or whatever. He blows raspberry, making sure they’re both at the same stride. “Weather’s nice tonight, isn’t it?” A start. Because it really is anyway. A fresh breath of air. God forbid being with family is, too.

@ddmaiga

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tiptoe

Four days after DAY OF BLACK SUN Noon time

1) It’s different staying in a hostel as someone with all the time in the world than it is when you’re constantly on the move.

“What if they recognize me?”

“There are worse problems in the world.”

2) Doesn’t this get tiring, being on foot all the time? To think I’ve dreamed of being this remote not even days ago... oh, to take it back

3) The privilege to even think like that though. like it’s just another one of your choices to make

4) ...

The silence is so much to bear if he isn’t in his head. But something in how Jin carries himself encourages Gun to get out of there. Something along the lines of you’re already out of there, so why don’t you stay out? Like he knows... even if he doesn’t. Within the brief time they’ve spent together, he's learned that this has been a different kind of game so far, laying low past the Capital. Lord Ishan this, the entirety of Earth Kingdom is next that. All of it white noise, strangely enough. And yet,

“Hey,” Gun exhales, rebooting. Today he is Sian, as it was yesterday. It’s new, but routine is something he’ll still have to play around with through the day. He could be someone else tomorrow if time allows. If fate is only rumored. He waits another beat, making sure he doesn’t speak in vain, in whatever isn’t just a breath. “It’s.. hot.”

5) Get used to it.

@nhjinga

[jeonghney]

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howdy, butchered url nation and lucky bunch who didn’t have to abbreviate anything. the chaotic energy of gaunt opening so damn soon >>>>>>> though i’d like to think this world of four elements and its occupants at hand beg to differ

i’m penning gun, jiang #2. he’s 26, lonely in his agenda but in tune to others with his ambition. pro FUCK imperialism, but also more just. FUCK everyone y’know. guy digs his solitude a lot, but that’s not something he can exactly afford today x

no pages we’re laying out all you need to know about him in even more bulletpoints and writings that follow. i’ll plot with you if you like this or dm me (earth kingdom canons prioritized just so we know what exactly Their Deal is against the rest of ‘em + more)

before dobs: navigating through adulthood, slowly getting over family woes, loathing the responsibility of reputation (as a noble, no less). passed over UNA when given the “opportunity” mostly to spite his parents, but also because he can just do that... on his own time... alone.. really can’t get enough of that. stuck. knows a lot more than he lets on.

during dobs: accompanying the rest of his family for once, some morbid gut feeling telling him to skip out on this like he’s done with every other appearance they’ve done. but maybe he’s just queasy in the heat. maybe duty’s more than pretending to give a crap and not half bad. it’s a good hour until it isn’t. with a stray child in his way of getting past crowds and smoke and everything in between, he can’t tell if she makes it. all he remembers is himself not.

after dobs: stuck. under the impression that they’re all home without him, he at least knows the world as everyone knows it is exactly what they’d dread it to become. there is some advantage in being the one child not all are aware of, but to what real avail?

facts: sucks at bending, takes politics way too seriously to make up for what he can’t physically do (don’t know how that works to balance each other out but ok, bro, you do you), eats his greens. thinks you should be involved in your community but not obnoxiously. speaks a LOT through his actions and thinks that always gets his point across but... so much happens in your head and only in your head, man

spare co-anarchists? :hands_out:

[fuckingants]

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