Azula was silent for a moment, many moments. One may begin to wonder if she'd heard the question at all until her voice drifted out slowly, as if she had to piece each word together one at a time.
"I did...once. Once I was great. Perfect. Perfect perfection in it's most perfect form. Who could ask for more?"
Her father, her father could ask for more.
"But I wasn't perfect. Flawed, Cracked. Cracking. Splitting apart thread. By. Thread." She plucked a spare thread from the sleeve of her robe and examined it like all the answers to the universe could be found in there.
"There were scared of me. Scared of what I was. What I could be. So they betrayed me. But that I could have overcome. After all they weren't perfect." She half mumbled half babbled as her grip began to slip once again. But she was so caught up in her self reflection she didn't even realize it. In her eyes she was just telling a story. It almost felt like it wasn't even her story really. Just the story of a girl. A twisted little girl named Azula.
"But then even HE was scared of me The one who made me perfect. Tried to leave me behind. Keep me at arms length so he could protect himself you see? You understand? I was too much! I was what he wanted and it was more then he could stand so he was going to LEAVE!" The last part was shouted and there was a blinking in her wild eyes where she seemed startled by her own voice echoing in the chamber.
Slowly...so slowly she sank into the chair. The clouds were parting again allowing a ray of light in to shine upon the jumbled mess of awareness. She'd been ranting again. Sometimes she did that, sometimes even when she was alone.
shoulders slumped she sighed a heavy world weary sigh. "And so I was made...as I am..." She finished trailing off as she tried to clear the fog that had begun to settle on her mind once more.
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"I did...once. Once I was great. Perfect. Perfect perfection in it's most perfect form. Who could ask for more?"
Her father, her father could ask for more.
"But I wasn't perfect. Flawed, Cracked. Cracking. Splitting apart thread. By. Thread." She plucked a spare thread from the sleeve of her robe and examined it like all the answers to the universe could be found in there.
"There were scared of me. Scared of what I was. What I could be. So they betrayed me. But that I could have overcome. After all they weren't perfect." She half mumbled half babbled as her grip began to slip once again. But she was so caught up in her self reflection she didn't even realize it. In her eyes she was just telling a story. It almost felt like it wasn't even her story really. Just the story of a girl. A twisted little girl named Azula.
"But then even HE was scared of me The one who made me perfect. Tried to leave me behind. Keep me at arms length so he could protect himself you see? You understand? I was too much! I was what he wanted and it was more then he could stand so he was going to LEAVE!" The last part was shouted and there was a blinking in her wild eyes where she seemed startled by her own voice echoing in the chamber.
Slowly...so slowly she sank into the chair. The clouds were parting again allowing a ray of light in to shine upon the jumbled mess of awareness. She'd been ranting again. Sometimes she did that, sometimes even when she was alone.
shoulders slumped she sighed a heavy world weary sigh. "And so I was made...as I am..." She finished trailing off as she tried to clear the fog that had begun to settle on her mind once more.