#jogan au

[thatlittlebluehead]

Chapter 2!

Julian looked up through watery eyes, blinking back tears. The man who had just spoken (and stopped the hand which would have beaten Julian, for which he was somewhat grateful) had obviously just have stepped out from the section of the tent which was hidden from view due to a flap covering it. Julian could only assume that that was where the bed was, seeing as this portion of the grand tent was primarily used for business. Julian’s eyes steadily made their way up the man’s body, stopping when he reached his face.

            And what a face it was; piercing, sharp green eyes stared down at him from under a curtain of blonde hair, too short to put in a topknot, yet too long to be considered a buzz cut. His pink lips were curved into an almost wicked smirk that matched his almost rigid body structure. His uniform was on, but only carelessly; from the waist down, he looked official. Not a wrinkle in his pants, with boots shiny enough for Julian to see his reflection. But on top he only wore a loose fitting white shift that tucked into his trousers, yet were almost strained at the shoulders because of their width.

            All Julian could do was gape at the man; he knew for a fact that this was Logan Wright, the youngest general in the Fire Nation army, with fire bending skills that could defeat a dragon (though he never tried), and a temper that could rival an angry platypus bear. But even with all this terrible foreknowledge about him, Julian couldn’t help but notice how, well, attractive Logan was. It was then that one of Logan’s hands reached down towards Julian, and lifted his head so he could see his face properly.  

“Oh, come on now Derek; how could you strike such a pretty face?” Logan asked not bothering to break eye contact with Julian. Light brown eyes, he noticed, not uncommon to the Fire Nation, but not so ordinary for one of the Earth Kingdom.

“Get your filthy hands off me, you squid!” Julian nearly shouts as he tries to wriggle away from the generals grasp.

“Squid,” Logan muses. “I think that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever been called by someone from the Earth Kingdom. But it’s endearing, princess; I think I’ll keep you around.” He shakes his head, and laughs at this. “What’s your name, princess?” Logan asks.

            “Its Julian, and might I recommend getting better soldiers? I could have easily taken them all out with one blow.” He flicked his hair out of his face at this, and continued to stare up at the not-as-terrifying-as-he-thought-he-would-be general, almost daring him to reply. Instead, the hand that had previously held his head up struck itself down, and across Julian’s cheek, leaving a bruise on the already bloodied flesh.

“You might want to consider treating me with a bit more respect, princess. Otherwise you might find yourself ‘helping’ the newbies with their bending techniques.” At this, Logan turned to the old man holding Julian’s chains. “Tie him up to the flagpole outside my tent. Make sure you tie him up well, I really don’t want to kill him for trying to earth bend his way out of here.” Then, the young general took one last look at the earth bender, turned, and left the tent; the other young commander taking off after him.

            “Alrigh’, come on then sweet heart, ya hear’ the general. Ge’ yer perky ass off ‘o the floor, an’ outside!” Julian struggled to his feet, crying out in pain when his chain bearer hit him around the face for not getting up fast enough. He was then dragged back outside, blinking harshly to get his eyes readjusted to the harsh sunlight. He was forced up against the rather thick flagpole; his arms were harshly pulled behind him, and around the pole. His legs were tied against it by rope.

            “Enjoy yer stay, won’ you, sweet heart!” the man then laughed harshly, and walked off. Julian sighed to himself; he was starving, feeling incredibly weak, had been humiliated, and was slightly home sick. He’d rather be transported to the Boiling Rock than stay here. Instead of lingering on his misfortunes, however, he closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.

            “I mean seriously, Lo, you can’t just tie him up like that and walk off! You gotta at least give him food, or something!”  Derek was jogging besides Logan, trying to keep up with his friends fast pace. Derek Seigerson was not a bender, but had quickly climbed the ranks of the army, and landed the spot of Logan’s second in command. He also happened to become friends with the total ass who is Logan Wright, and he constantly questioned his sanity for doing so.

            “In good time, Derek; I want to see how much I can break him down first.” Logan smiled to himself. He knew he could be a sadistic bastard at times, but there was something about the earth bender that Logan couldn’t quite put his finger on. The young soldier was beautiful, with light brown eyes that matched his hair that fell into his face. He had a small, yet lithe build, which made it hard for Logan to picture him as an Earth bender, who usually had strong and sturdy builds.

            “Goddamn it Logan, can’t you just put him in a tent at least?” Derek asked.

            “And give him a chance to escape? I don’t want to underestimate his bending abilities, which I get the feeling that I already have. It would be a risk to put him in solidarity.” Logan said, turning to make his way towards the mess tent.

            “I mean, why are we even keeping him here? We could just send him to a prison camp and be done with it.” Derek stated, still jogging to keep up with his general.

            “I’d rather have him in my company actually. I think I might have some fun with him”

[thatlittlebluehead]

chapter 1!

Here it is! sorry for the long wait, but i've been procrastinating.... Anyway, here's chapter 1B of Into the Inferno!

  Never in his entire life had Julian been treated so poorly; his hands and feet shackled together, gagged, and thrown in a metal box attended to by two Fire Nation soldiers. He had no idea how long he was in the box for, it had been nighttime when the battle ended, but he had no way to tell how long he had been inside this demonic contraption.

  He suspected he had a concussion (if the throbbing in his head was anything to go by) and blood trickled down his neck from a large gash running down his cheek. His mind was fuzzy; his thoughts weren’t collected either, almost as if he was drunk. He hadn’t eaten for hours, and his stomach rumbled anxiously, awaiting food that would not come. He tried sleeping, but the thundering of his cage being pulled along the uneven dirt road kept him from sleep. Also, the metal made him uneasy; he couldn’t feel the earth beneath his feet, almost as if the metal was blocking a transmission.

  When he finally managed an uneasy sleep, his dreams were not pleasant. He kept on running through a maze of iron hedges, meeting dead ends…

  It was a relatively boring day; waking up at five thirty in the morning to run drills, and wake up the older soldiers. He had his morning tea at promptly eight fifteen, and meditated. After that, it was a blur of training drills, with only minor burns. Not that he got burned ever, oh no. Just the idiots who made their flames too large. It wasn’t until much later in the afternoon, during his downtime, that he got a message from the 16th battalion that they had successfully made a surprise attack on camp of mostly newbie Earth Kingdom soldiers that the day lost its monotony, and started to get interesting.

  While normal reports just stated the casualties and a salute to him, this report stated that they were sending a prisoner. But this was no ordinary prisoner; a young boy from the enemy lines who was the last survivor, but didn’t surrender. In fact, he didn’t give up until he was surrounded on both sides by that particular battalion’s best fire benders. Even then, they had to knock him out with a blow to the head.

  Logan had to admire the boy’s courage, but also his foolishness; the letter had stated that they had pitied him, and captured him. They were sending him to the 23rd battalion to be kept as prisoner. Logan scoffed; he didn’t take prisoners, and would probably end up sending the foolish boy to the Boiling Rock anyway.

  Rather than being awoken by a Fire Nation soldier like he expected, or preferred, rather; he was awaken rather rudely when the cart that was carrying his cage hit a rather large rock, and he hit is already sore head on the bottom of the box.

 “Damnit!” he shouted in pain, eyes starting to water up. He sat up, trying to rub his head without hitting it with the iron shackles binding his wrists. It was dark in this metal box, with no lantern in it, and no windows. Of course, if it had windows, he might have been able to summon some of his bending ability to get himself out of this mess.

  About an hour later, the cart jolted to a halt. Julian threw out his hands to try and break his fall, but he fell too quickly, and face planted. Just as he hit the floor, the back of the box wrenched open.

  “Alright, you little bitch, ge’ out!” but before he could even make an effort to move, Julian was being yanked out of the contraption, and thrown on the hard dirt ground.

  “Ge’ up, you swine! Off o’ yer lazy ass, and ge’ goin’!” Julian looked up at the man who had so roughly pulled him to the ground. The man was older than him, wearing a standard fire nation uniform, with a mangled nose, and wild hair that was straining to get out of its topknot. When he got up, the man grabbed onto his bindings, and pulled him through the camp.

  It was late morning, the autumn sun blaring overhead. Rows of orange and red tents were set up, and Julian could just make out the edge of the training field. He had little time to appreciate it, however, because he was being yanked through the camp roughly by the wild man.

 “Ohh, the Generals gonna love you,” he said with his harsh accent, still pulling Julian along. “don’ expect good treatmen’ from ‘im, even though ya are pretty. ‘e might like tha’ though; always appreciates a good lookin’ prisoner! Ha!” The man laughed wildly to himself for a few moments, barley noticing that they had reached the largest, and by far the grandest tent in the establishment.

  They pushed through the entrance flap of the tent, and Julian was immediately impressed by the organized chaos. Though everything looked like it was hap-hazardly thrown on the floor, or spewed across the desks, they were all in similar groups; the battle plans in one corner, letters in the next, that sort of thing.

  A young man stood bending over the table in the center, observing battle plans. When Julian and his captor approached, the young man looked up. He was about Julian’s age, with brown hair too short to keep in a topknot. His eyes were a soft brown, with hazel hints in certain light.

  “What is this? The earth bending idiot who was stupid enough to take on twenty of a battalion’s best fire benders? I don’t know whether to be honored or disgusted.” He had a sharp and sarcastic tone; Julian had to admire his bitchy-ness.

 “And who might you be? I wouldn’t assume that you’re the general seeing as you’ve got no manners, style, or respect.” Julian stated. He was met abruptly by a blow to his head, almost bringing him to his knees.

  “The names Derek Seigerson, second in command of the 23rd battalion, and you best show me respect!” he raised his hand for another blow, and Julian flinched away. But before he was struck, a hand flew out to grab Derek’s.

  “Now, now, Seigerson. Wouldn’t want to harm the little kitten, would you?”