trans_9 | Is Your Love Strong Enough? Part 2 - Personal Interwoven Soulcatchers

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Is Your Love Strong Enough? Part 2 - Personal Interwoven Soulcatchers

Following you awakening and talking with a few of the members through the communication systems by way of the three kind people who had awakened her, Nezaitben realized how the crew was stuck in a terrible mess.

So many of them felt sad and depressed. Considering the entire ship, it wasn't too hard to see why. The next day, there had been an unusual amount of magical flowers spreading all over the ship. Nothing that damaged the controls (she might be naive in the way humanoids were, but Nezaitben was no fool either) but they were found in the most unexpected of places. Her own awakening area was now blooming in a flower paradise, the wooden palace standing proudly on top, the smell and pink cherry blossom strong enough to carry through most of the central city area where most people resided.

Yet the ship was still sad.

This would not do.

That night, or what passed as a night for in the ship, Nezaitben took to the 'sky', letting pieces of her own essence fall on top of the sleeping populace, or those that were not sleeping finding themselves feeling the need too. Enveloping the ship into a peaceful slumber, she searched their dreams. The powers granted to her by the pantheon of gods in her homeworld allowed Nezaitben to weave a series of dreamcatchers giving her the ability to see those whose hearts connected true.

These noble souls would do. Lead by example had always been her philosophy. She would give them a great gift - communication with each other in a single body, allowing them to share everything together. Their two soulcatchers were woven together that night into a single, grand ones, hanging in the garden's trees.

A few minutes later, the empty husks of the bodies that weren't being used showed up at her palace. With a smile, she welcomed them like her own children and began to dress them for their task.

That morning, some of the crewmen would wake up to a strange surprise...and that would just be the beginning of a long, strange misunderstanding and young gods trying too much to please everyone.

[OOC - Just a few rules. Keep in mind the listed rules. You can all start your own threads of waking up in the bodies of others. If you feel like leaving a 2nd post for other people to intact with them, start a reply to your own first post with OPEN header. That way everyone else will know where to post and if you don't feel like having an open interaction post right away, you won't have to!

There will also be another post for all the soulless characters to go around spreading joy and love, so look forward to that too!]

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Can he do that? Nima wondered before recognizing that that was not important.

"Even if that is possible, I will not let him do that to you," she said, almost primly. "Your fire is a gift of your soul. We'll go to him about this problem, not about any other."

She thought, and consider that you are safe, with me. I don't think anyone wants to murder you, but I don't think anyone wants to murder me, either. If there were people who did, they probably would not be the same people, and would spare the one of us for the other's sake.

It was a little convoluted, but there you were.

"I'm pretty sure we can at least speak to people about solving this problem without putting you in danger. Then you can go back to living as you were."

But should she? Maybe this is happening because she needs not to be alone.

Nima had to let SOME of her thoughts occur, if she was going to process the full situation.

Azula wasn't so sure, and she was sure her guest could feel those doubts lingering. "You'll forgive me if I'm not as optimistic as you are about it." At least having something to focus on, namely the problem at hand was keeping the noise down in her mind. She begrudgingly moved over to her bag to pull out one of the few articles of clothing she owned. She had commissioned the tailor to make her some comfortable functional clothes, but her state of mind was the deciding factor on if she wore them.

"This has got to be a trick of sorts, or some kind of curse." The way she seethed the word "curse" made it apparent just how much this situation was digging at her, as if Nima couldn't feel it eating away at Azula's patience like a worm.

"I've worked too hard not to kill every last one of you to be punished like this." She was growling at a broken mirror as she attempted pitifully to put her hair into an elegant bun. She wasn't nearly focused enough for such work. Every other minute she felt compelled to claw at her own head as she had so many times before. Nima may even see some remaining scars along her hairline from what Azula thought of as "bad days".

I'm sure we all appreciate your effort.

Nima thought it, not with sarcasm, but with a wryness that was impossible to miss.

You have such lovely hair, she added, as Azula brought the pair over to a mirror, but you must be used to having others do your hair for you. May I? You won't even have to pretend I'm a servant. As a nun, I am in service to the world.

Feel free to gag anytime, Azula.

Azula returned the compliment with a very flat cold stare. "I'm fine." She muttered through tightly clenched teeth as she pulled the knots of hair free from the failure of a bun and took a plastic brush to it. Oh the days when she had only the finest bone and polished stone combs to grace her silken hair, which despite how strong it still was could use a wash. That thought sent another shiver through Azula as she focused on the task at hand.

For failing at creating a bun she brushed it out till it was smooth and straight. "I am not so helpless I can't tend to my needs." Though any other day the idea of subjugating the last living female airbender (That Azula knew of) was an enticing thought.

"If this is a trap I'll make you watch as I burn someone's eyes out." It was an idle threat but hopefully enough to get her point across to the nun. It made Azula feel better at least as she packed her things in the simple canvas bag.

Oh. Well. It's a good thing it won't come to that.

Water seemed to bother Azula. That wasn't something Nima thought she should pry about.

To distract herself, she thought of her own hair rituals - brushing the knots out after a long day's journey, kneeling in a circle with her sisters as a child, each girl tending the hair of the little nun in front of her, peaceful and warm in her saffron robes in the early fall sunlight.

You could always wash with a dry treatment, she put in. As they do in the desert, when water isn't easy to spare. Grain-starch, and a brush work well. My business is in caring for livestock, you know - I could probably help you find some on a shore leave.

Her "speaking" up again seemed to send another twitch of annoyance through her. "The sonic showers do well enough." She lied unable to prevent the thought Yes because taking care of livestock and a fallen princess is clearly the same thing.

But despite the annoyance, Nima's memories were having a soothing effect on Azula even without her immediately noticing. Oh how she longed for the creature comforts of warm scented robes and having someone care for her, and feel pride at receiving the honor. After all she was the princess!

"Where will we find him?" She muttered finally leaving her little room and entering the basement of the building she had taken shelter in. It was just one of the many abandoned or ruined buildings in the City.

If they were the same thing, I'd be better at this, Nima noted, her tone humorous. It seems princesses need a little bit more complicated care than regular feedings and belly rubs.

The thought of her glowsloths improved Nima's mood further, as she thought of going to visit her herd again, checking and caring for her animals and playing with them in their rocky habitat, cuddling them close and enjoying the comforting smell of their warm, soft fur.

But the thought of the glowsloths also reminded her - how was she going to take care of them if she was sharing a body with someone else?

"The Western Air Temple," said Nima. They'd just have to get this sorted out as fast as possible, so she could go and get back to her daily chores again. "I know the way."

"If you try to rub my belly I'll set fire to your filthy beasts." She warned her body continuing to trace it's way back up to the main floor and out the heavy wooden door. The entire building was full of shadows, torn rugs, peeled wallpapers. Not at all the sort of settings the fit a woman of her status...former status.

She was on the street now when a new unpleasant realization occurred. Which led to a weigh her options. Either ask Nima for directions and take orders from the airbender or...

"You lead." She conceded. If she was going to face the Avatar she would need as much mental and emotional strength as she could muster.

Princess.

This was an important thought, and Nima knew it was a confrontational one. But it was one Azula needed to hear, now.

I will never, ever hurt you, in any way. But I will never let you hurt one of my animals, either.

With a touch of a chilly wind in her thoughts, she said, "It is my honor to show you the way. It will take a while, since I can't fly right now."

Still, this body was athletic, and Nima was used to an athletic body. She took off at a jog, trying not to feel too hampered by the loss of her ability to lower the resistance of the air in front of her, and give herself a strong backwind. Simple running was hard.

Meanwhile Azula let herself sink back into her own thoughts watching it as if it were a show, or a dream. The longing to move faster and to fly was obvious and infecting her.

Without a word she offered a thought, an image or memory of a particular move Azula used frequently when she felt the need to increase her speed. Blasting two pillars of fire behind herself she could clear entire buildings if she wanted. It was no airbending but it was better then nothing.

Yes Azula was actually sharing a firebending technique. For her own purposes of coarse but it was something at least.

"It's probably better if you do that. I can probably keep up with the speed if you'll do the bending."

Nima was no Avatar. She'd never felt true desire to bend an element other than air, and she knew it took years and years to master the individual bending disciplines. Airbending felt, she could already tell, completely different from firebending.

There was an internal sigh, If I must. though Azula understood the safer way. On my mark jump. And because of this sudden forced closeness Nima would be able to sense Azula's command before it was thought.

The moment their feet left the ground Azula's hands moved like perfectly timed swings a blade and fire burst from her finger tips propelling them into the air.

It was a power that Fire Benders could grow intoxicated with feeling the destructive force of their element tamed by their bare hands. They were gods among mortals with the power to bring life or death.

And as they cleared the rooftops for a moment Azula looked down upon the city spread out below them. As it should be. She thought with satisfaction.

I agree, thought Nima, though obviously for different reasons. She thought longingly of the currents of air that should have been holding her aloft, and was aware of her powerful attachment to her own body.

Now that was a material attachment she hadn't much considered.

She landed on the roof and began leaping rooftops, making her way towards the Western Air Temple. It was going to take a while, but the journey would surely be worth it, as journeys always were in the end.

As her eyes settled on the Air Temple Azula could not help but feel some jealousy at the way the Avatar and Nima had been living compared to her. She allowed herself a moment to long for the creature comforts being a princess had once afforded her. It was why one of the very first articles of clothing she replaced was her silk robe.

"Find him." She ordered Nima her walls going back up as she prepared for the worst. Facing the Avatar like this...it was humiliating.

You're not friendly with him, right?

Nima felt a surge of protectiveness for the Avatar - the last of her people, child of her generation of sisters. A little monk, cut off from his guides and his heritage - at the same time, a being of immense age and responsibility. What a paradoxical being.

Let me speak to him first, when we find him. I can prove I'm sharing your body.

Performing the motions of airbending with no corresponding breezes would be strange, but it would serve as good proof.

Nima ascended the path to the Air Temple, marveling at the strangeness of not having to fly up a mountain to reach it. So much of its defensive capabilities were lost without proper placement. How had the Fire Nation even been able to get past the problem of needing to be able to fly to reach their temples, in order to kill the Air Nomads as quickly as they had?

She wondered the question in a detached, impersonal way, her quiet unhappiness that there had to be a logical explanation dwelling at the edges of her calm.

You're so perceptive. The sarcasm was unmistakable.

Such impractical designs. She was observing the temples Far too easy to attack and difficult to defend. Your altitude was your only true defense.

We never had any intentions of starting a war. So we never assumed anyone would start one against us.

The altitude had been more for seclusion than defense. Temples were places of spiritual retreat, where Air Nomads could reflect on the things they learned in their travels through the material world, and restore their connection to the realm of the immaterial.

"Brother?" she called, as they entered the temple. It was always quiet in the temple, but now the quiet suggested emptiness, rather than just tranquility. "Aang, are you here?"

I don't think he's here.

Imagine my dissapointment. Azula remarked dryly and then took hold of her mouth once more, "Or perhaps he won't respond to my voice asking so kindly." She took a deep breath and roared "AVATAR SHOW YOURSELF NOW AND LET US BE DONE WITH THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!!!"

Her voice echoed distorting into frightening sounds but no movement or sounds of response came back to them. Azula sighed. "Figures, the one time I actually want to see him that doesn't involve capturing or killing him."

Ah there was a pleasant memory, one of so few, the feeling of triumph watching her lightning burn through his young body before he could reach the Avatar state. That had been such a good day for her.

Revulsion overtook Nima - and consequently Azula.

For a moment, she was dizzy. She was nauseous. She took a step, trying to regain her peace in the face of the images of death in her head.

You would do that?

Her affection for Aang - My brother my friend my Avatar my - rose up, and Nima latched onto them, using them to flood out her feelings of discomfort.

She lingered just a little too long over the image, suddenly hungry for images of the little boy Aang had been when he'd been thrown, alone, into a destiny he was not ready for. The Aang she didn't know - the one without any of his elders and friends to guide him when he'd needed guidance most.

You would do that? And it would bring you joy?

The urge to weep overtook Nima - not just for Aang, for his courage facing this terrible enemy, for his solitude that no Air Nomad before him had ever had to endure - but for Azula, as well. With it came pity.

You poor girl. No wonder you're so afraid. You have so much to be afraid of.

Karma was going to ruin her.

Perhaps it already had.

Azula was thrown into an emotional nosedive from that tiny moment of pleasure, to sickness, to sorrow, pity, and then her own feelings once again and pity made her angry. Furious. She couldn't STAND it!

"SILENCE!" She spat and fire burst from her stomping foot leaving a scorched mark on the floor.

"I'd do it a thousand times and laugh." She growled wishing she had a face she could glare into. "Do you have any idea who I am really?"

You're a spirit in a human body. And that human body was once in a position of power. I respect your spirit more than your position, and your spirit needs help.

More help than she, an unwise young nun, could give. But who on the ship could give it?

"And you're far from the only person to say or think that fool!" Azula snapped stalking through the air temple if only to keep moving. She wanted to be away from Nima NOW but being unable to simply walk away the action held little purpose.

"And you won't be the last. But there is no help for me. And especially none that I can gain from someone who should have died long ago and stayed that way."

Who says you know what should happen?

Her thoughts were calm again, as she distanced herself from the horror of watching Aang die by a hand that felt like hers. As she considered it again, something inside her utterly rejected the idea. And yet -

Her mind touched on something, but she pulled the errant thoughts back to the present. There was something she did not want Azula to hear her think.

Perhaps this is exactly what was meant to happen. You and I are both still mortal precisely because we don't know everything, yet.

She managed to sustain a moment of mental silence before adding, Perhaps there is even a purpose in our situation now. Perhaps I am meant to be here to help you find the help you need.

She was unwise, but surely she would return to her body again, and when she did, she could find someone to help this poor, damaged girl, before Azula made her karma even worse for herself and doomed herself to an unbearable rebirth.

Azula was getting herself lost in the temple but her mind was elsewhere. "I decide my destiny, not luck, and not fate. Things happen because people make them happen." Even she knew it was a flimsy argument but she did not want to give Nima any ground. She wasn't even sure what she was looking for anymore. If the Avatar wasn't here they should look elsewhere.

But she was losing her temper again and knowing that, made her angry.

Wait. Do you have one of the communication machines?

They could debate destiny later . . . once they were back in their own minds.

"We can get in touch with him that way."

Is Your Love Strong Enough? Part 2 - Personal Interwoven Soulcatchers

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