[ Some random afternoon, though Zuko's not home (as he's often not these days), Azula will find a bracelet sitting on the dining table without a note. That's it. ]
[ She goes awhile without saying anything (she desperately wants to pretend that she didn't notice), but after spending the rest of the afternoon fiddling with it on her wrist in appreciation she finally messages him-- ]
[ Zuko's at home lounging on the couch lazily, scrolling through his phone with a scowl on his face. Wherever Azula is in the room, lucky her to get to listen to him complain. ]
Ugh, there's nothing interesting on the Questboard...! I'm tired of running errands and doing magically tedious chores for people! Why is this so irritating!
[ His recent job hunt hasn't been going so great and it's leaving him extra annoyed... He's been in a bad mood for a couple days now, truth be told. He's broke, and he's growing restless not having enough to do... He hates lounging about like this. He's annoying himself! ...And probably Azula now, too. ]
[ He's definitely annoying Azula, but the boredom is something she can sympathize with. There's plenty that she can occupy herself with, sure, but their lack of funds grows increasingly annoying each and every day-- it wasn't as if Azula really wanted life as a criminal, but it was easier and less degrading than running errands.
She pulls herself up on the countertop in their kitchenette, crossing one leg over the other as she munches on some sort of too-salty chip she still hasn't decided if she actually enjoys. But, you know, not being able to cook leaves her with little options. Either way, she can see Zuko and his whiny face fine from here. ]
I think there is plenty interesting on the Questboard, but you may not be looking at the right one. [ A beat. ] And you may not be so fond of me after I start murdering people for money.
[ He cranes to look at her more clearly, a discerning pout on his face, confused and wary... He can't tell when Azula's joking half the time. He's also never heard of any other Questboard except the default one. What "right one" is she talking about? Let alone taking up work as a hitman...? ]
[ Zuko's finally home just at nightfall, later than usual. His pants and hands are dirty from sitting in the dirt with Gokudera in the woods until sunset. He's none too quiet as he enters their apartment, slamming the door behind him, and immediately he's noticeably disgruntled, even before seeing Azula. Zunyan follows him in, and dashes to the kitchenette awaiting its usual "we're home" snack, it gets... nothing. So it dances around his feet, lacing itself between his ankles around every step, which only aggravates him further. ]
Stop it, youβ you stupid dragon! Get out of my way!
[ ...Zuko has never insulted their dragons. Not even Zuko, but definitely never spoken harshly to Zunyan like that. Zuko's making a beeline for the bedroom and not acknowledging Azula right away even when he sees her, nothing more than a quick, hot look, before slamming the bedroom door behind him. He doesn't lock it, though. Just sets to pacing. He thought he'd prepared some words, regained some composure, but catching a glimpse of her now... He's faltering. ]
[ She hadn't searched for him, but she thought about it-- just to rip the band-aid off quickly. Instead, she festered on her own, still full of adrenaline from the fight with Aang where she'd left him mostly unscathed, too much of a wreck from the thought of her small world crumbling to permanently remove him from Avalon. He would have deserved it, and a part of her, throughout the night, waiting, wants to seek him out, wants to make him suffer until she is once again alone in the silence.
The apartment earns her ire instead, slamming, breaking, flipping objects in her path until she essentially tires herself out from her temper tantrum. After a while, she forces herself to go to bed, partially convinced that Zuko actually wasn't going to return to her this night, feeling foolish for waiting on him like some lovesick goatdog. Her dragon, typically not affectionate, was curled up on the pillow beside her, close and watching. He notices his namesake first, furling up protectively as Azula stirs, pushing herself up on the mattress by the time Zuko slams his way into their bedroom. The princess shoves the blue creature from the bed and it scurries underneath it in response.
It's still dark but she doesn't move to turn a light on, sitting in the darkness waiting for him to address her first. ]
[ He hesitates, lingering at the door, before grumbling loudly and stomping over to their closet, taking out a duffle bag he'd acquired some time ago, then to their dresser, flinging open drawers, and begins shoving his clothes in, some falling by the wayside to the floor, no regard for whether it's his or hers he's throwing around. He's silent as he packs his bag in the dark by the dim, pale, blue light that comes in through their window blinds, but steals a glance at Azula in the bed every time he's had to turn. He saw the house is a mess, like she'd had a tantrum. He's just adding to it. But he can only assume one thing from seeing her and their space in such a state: she already knew the Avatar was here. What more that meant... he'd have to find out. It's all he can manage to bite his tongue, but it doesn't last long, as he slams their underwear drawer shut with a loud thud after loading up his socks and briefs in his bag, his model ship nearly tipping over from the impact as he reels around to face her, but rocks itself back onto its stand. ]
...Azula. Wake up.
[ He wants to yell, he wants to borage her with questions. But thankfully for them both, Gokudera warned him to let Azula defend herself first. And he's keeping the bomber's words in mind before he says anything he regrets. But there's no disguising the venom in his voice the way he says her name. He's not said her name like that in a long, long time. It hurts to hear it said like that again β for both of them. But certainly, less so for Zuko than Azula herself. ]
[ Time has passed. Dust has settled. Zuko spent about a week with Iroh after his confrontation with Azula about Ursa, as he'd told her he would. And it's been several days since his return even since then... But that time has been awkward at best. He's been avoidant but not aggressive, which is hard to make heads or tails of. He's come home as promised, not doing anything weird like sleeping on the couch or refusing to touch her or anything pointed, but there's been a certain hesitation about him on the rare occasion he's been home around Azula since his return... more withdrawn than usual. Muted.
That is, until today. When suddenly he seems to just shift full throttle back into typical Zuko gear. He's had enough time to think, it must be. That or someone said something that affected him... who knows. But whatever's happened, it marks a clear change in disposition again. Bemusing and, on the one hand, rather self-serving as it is, it's his way of expressing what he struggles to with words alone. Not like Zuko to dial back on dramatics, for better or worse.
Zuko'd been keeping track of what times Azula tends to get home, on the days he happens to be home first, and so puts this knowledge to good use one random rainy evening without warning. She'll come home at a time she's usually home at, a time he's not been usually home at, tending to get home later than her these days out of avoidance once he figured out her latest schedule, and find... a virtually new apartment. It's clean. All their laundry done and put away. No scorch marks on the walls or floor or furniture from their dragons, all wiped away to the best of the prince's ability. Any expired food from their little kitchenette has been cleared, a case of flavored water chilled in the fridge, whatever Zuko'd noticed Azula's favorite flavor might be. Bed made with fresh sheets and fluffed pillows. Incense burning, filling the air with a spicy sweet smell as soon as one gets to the door.
But most noticeably... Both the living room and bedroom are full of flowers, at least a half dozen large bouquets in each room. There are hyacinths, geraniums, larkspurs in purple as they'd once had before, but now also in white, red and gold, plus poppies of all colors, and a whole bunch of asphodels, the largest bouquet being the focal point of the living room area as soon as one walks in. Aerith made himall ofthesebouquetsby request. He paid money for these β no stealing, no charity. She tried to tell him to defer his payment but he insisted on sending her all the gold right away, as soon as he had this idea. He was determined about that.
The sound of water running in the bathroom can be heard in the distance, but otherwise there's silence in the home. Zunyan is nowhere to be seen, which is... worrisome... considering Zuko's home, rare the dragon's not at his side, especially when all he's doing is lounging on the couch putzing on his phone like nothing, as if he's not just created some far out over-the-top spa environment in their home out of nowhere on a whim. But he's wearing his Fire Nation clothes instead of his now more usual modern alien garb and his hair is damp and spiky from his own shower, taken cold to save all the hot water for the bath being drawn now. It's... quite the scene. But clearly one specifically designed for Azula to walk in on, like he's just there waiting for her with all this. He'd be pacing the room were it not for that he wants to seem distinctly chill when she comes in. But whatever facade he's trying to put on himself, the space is more warm and welcoming than it's been in at least two weeks. He even preemptively has the heater on in the bedroom so it's not cold after getting out of the bath.
Oh... there's Zunyan. Curled up on top of the heater, hidden behind more flowers. Figures. ]
[ There's nothing more agonizing than returning to a home you didn't want to be in, a realization that made her laugh bitterly to herself as the pair of siblings seemed to consistently get to have a taste of each other's trauma. Zuko doesn't flinch or avoid, but any soft exchanges between them seems forced and unwanted, drawing her out of the apartment longer than usual as she attempts to find more outside that could help her keep a distance.
When it rains, however, she has little choice but to return to the unpleasant space instead of prolonging probably too-intensive training or violent contemplating, hair sticking uncomfortably to her face as she'd been unable to avoid getting wet during her trek back. It's a surprise when she opens the door, nose greeted immediately by the mix of floral and spice, face scrunched up as she examines the abundance of flowers (with meanings she definitely doesn't care about). She hadn't been unfamiliar with Zuko giving her gifts, finding very quickly that was his love language (she'd often donned a bracelet he gave her when she wasn't furious with him), but being accosted with so much flora was... unexpected.
Azula closes the door behind her after telling herself not to exit right back out of it, eyes finally settling on Zuko in familiar reds after another uncomfortable sweep of the room. ]
[ Zuko snaps to attention as soon as he hears Azula fussing with the lock outside the door, before it's even opened, his breath hitching. He's nervous. This grand gesture of apology can either go well... or up in flames. But this isn't a "fail or succeed" situation, though his black-and-white traumatized brain sorts most situations into that category. This is just a conversation, if Azula's open to it. But more than that, what he's trying to achieve β trying to practice β is genuine empathy and altruism, putting others before himself, imagining what would she like to make a night all about Azula... It's still stilted, still a bit off-kilter in the underlying logic; and still self-serving in a way in how he does this, because innately it's not considering that Azula may not want to have any conversation, may not want this sudden hyperfocused attention of his turned to her for once. And he's still not quite able to step into her shoes enough to realize he just threw away like a couple hundred bucks on flowers she probably doesn't care about. But girls like pretty things, and Azula's still a girl? Girls like flowers, as he understands it? Flowers are romantic, right? Uncle always said they brighten a room and improve one's mood to have something beautiful in the home like that, encouraged them to have flowers in their house in the same breath he was encouraging Zuko to start bringing girls home, when they were living in Ba Sing Se. So he's connecting some dots here, even if it's a bit shoehorned... And Aerith told him that flowers have a secret language, that particular arrangements can say things words can't, so while he knows for Azula as much as himself these all just look the same to them, just flowers, knowing he has ones that other people who are more in the know than they are have deemed to represent remorse and regret and apology... makes him feel better. Casual as he's making this dramatic move out to be, maybe he'll find a way to slip that fun fact into conversation; and slip in the fact that he paid money, this was not thievery or charity.
But again, even if he does find a way to mention it β Azula still might not care about the thought he put into that symbolic gesture, because the symbolism was ultimately more comforting for him, even though he's thinking it's all for her. But he's trying... He's never tried as hard as this to be forgiven, barring, y'know, scouring the globe for three years for the longlost Avatar, uh. But that doesn't count, quite. Nor do his series of adventures gaining Team Avatar's trust. Something intimate, personal like this... the closest was begging forgiveness from Iroh, but Zuko barely had to beg. Iroh didn't even let him carry on with the spiel he'd planned when they reunited at the White Lotus camp, interrupted him with a hug without a hint of anger, so he barely had to try at all to be forgiven by his uncle for his greatest regrets. But this... was harder. While the regret may not be as deep as it'd been with Iroh, the audience tonight is... a lot tougher. It's difficult for Zuko to shift his focal points and perspectives; he's in a certain sense kind of innately self-centered, although in a rather neutral way often, even in trying to act selflessly, the way he goes about that act just comes right back to that trait of his, for better or worse. But he's making a big step here, he thinks. Kid's putting his best foot forward, man, he is...
He stands when she speaks to him, leaving his phone aside immediately, awkwardly standing stiff and straight in the middle of the room to respond. He looks like a soldier whose sergeant just walked in β so much for seeming chill about all this... ]
Hi, Azula. How are you? I cleaned the house. And there's a bath drawn for you. Your special water is in the fridge. A-And, uh, I ordered those spicy dumplings we liked! The ones that reminded us of home, from that Chinese placeβ! But they're being slow, the delivery guy's late... Maybe the rain...
[ He trails off, grumbling and mumbling, rubbing his neck nervously at the snag in his plan from the late delivery. Clearly the way he speaks, though, even just starting with "Hi, Azula. How are you?" for crying out loud, he's indeed planned all of that out word for word. He rehearsed a million openings and false conversations out loud while he was cleaning, trying to get a sense for what's the best way to present all this grandiosity, and decided the best approach was just to act very casual about it. So he doesn't even mention the flowers. Yet still for all his planning, "Hi, Azula. How are you?" was what he landed on...? Because it sounds familiar and off-hand and yet is also showing right away he's interested in her wellbeing β that's the lengthy reasoning that led him there, after many other openings he tried out and picked to shreds overanalyzing. He's coming off far more formal than he thinks, though, in his delivery, because he's jittery from rehearsing this moment too much. And probably coming off far more awkward, too. But down to the last detail, the thought is there β however bewildering the thought that's there may be to her. ]
text; un: boomerang-guy
Are you settling in alright?
[He promised to try and get along with her, so here he is. Asking a polite question.]
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[ ok but also he is probably smart enough to figure out "fireprincess" on his own?? maybe?? ]
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text; un: fireprince; backdated to some hours before his fight with Gokudera, after meeting Taichi
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[ Zuko Suave over here; just deconstructed his feeble flirting in the least romantic explanation... ]
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text; un: fireprince
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wanna wrap up here? or continue for a tender moment? down for whatever~
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text;
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action; backdated to may's fire setting quest
Ugh, there's nothing interesting on the Questboard...! I'm tired of running errands and doing magically tedious chores for people! Why is this so irritating!
[ His recent job hunt hasn't been going so great and it's leaving him extra annoyed... He's been in a bad mood for a couple days now, truth be told. He's broke, and he's growing restless not having enough to do... He hates lounging about like this. He's annoying himself! ...And probably Azula now, too. ]
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She pulls herself up on the countertop in their kitchenette, crossing one leg over the other as she munches on some sort of too-salty chip she still hasn't decided if she actually enjoys. But, you know, not being able to cook leaves her with little options. Either way, she can see Zuko and his whiny face fine from here. ]
I think there is plenty interesting on the Questboard, but you may not be looking at the right one. [ A beat. ] And you may not be so fond of me after I start murdering people for money.
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[ He cranes to look at her more clearly, a discerning pout on his face, confused and wary... He can't tell when Azula's joking half the time. He's also never heard of any other Questboard except the default one. What "right one" is she talking about? Let alone taking up work as a hitman...? ]
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action; backdated to night of Aang's arrival
Stop it, youβ you stupid dragon! Get out of my way!
[ ...Zuko has never insulted their dragons. Not even Zuko, but definitely never spoken harshly to Zunyan like that. Zuko's making a beeline for the bedroom and not acknowledging Azula right away even when he sees her, nothing more than a quick, hot look, before slamming the bedroom door behind him. He doesn't lock it, though. Just sets to pacing. He thought he'd prepared some words, regained some composure, but catching a glimpse of her now... He's faltering. ]
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The apartment earns her ire instead, slamming, breaking, flipping objects in her path until she essentially tires herself out from her temper tantrum. After a while, she forces herself to go to bed, partially convinced that Zuko actually wasn't going to return to her this night, feeling foolish for waiting on him like some lovesick goatdog. Her dragon, typically not affectionate, was curled up on the pillow beside her, close and watching. He notices his namesake first, furling up protectively as Azula stirs, pushing herself up on the mattress by the time Zuko slams his way into their bedroom. The princess shoves the blue creature from the bed and it scurries underneath it in response.
It's still dark but she doesn't move to turn a light on, sitting in the darkness waiting for him to address her first. ]
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...Azula. Wake up.
[ He wants to yell, he wants to borage her with questions. But thankfully for them both, Gokudera warned him to let Azula defend herself first. And he's keeping the bomber's words in mind before he says anything he regrets. But there's no disguising the venom in his voice the way he says her name. He's not said her name like that in a long, long time. It hurts to hear it said like that again β for both of them. But certainly, less so for Zuko than Azula herself. ]
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text; un: smoking_bomb
Wine?
Chocolate?
Both?
A surprise?
All of the above?
None of the above?
I'll be there in about twenty minutes.
[Notice how he is not asking.]
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[ What is happening? Things she never expected would happen for $2000. ]
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Pick one, all, or none.
[If pampering her won't work, he'll just irritate her to help get her mind off of the argument he's sure she had with her brother.]
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action; backdated to several days after aang's arrival/after meeting linneus with gokudera
That is, until today. When suddenly he seems to just shift full throttle back into typical Zuko gear. He's had enough time to think, it must be. That or someone said something that affected him... who knows. But whatever's happened, it marks a clear change in disposition again. Bemusing and, on the one hand, rather self-serving as it is, it's his way of expressing what he struggles to with words alone. Not like Zuko to dial back on dramatics, for better or worse.
Zuko'd been keeping track of what times Azula tends to get home, on the days he happens to be home first, and so puts this knowledge to good use one random rainy evening without warning. She'll come home at a time she's usually home at, a time he's not been usually home at, tending to get home later than her these days out of avoidance once he figured out her latest schedule, and find... a virtually new apartment. It's clean. All their laundry done and put away. No scorch marks on the walls or floor or furniture from their dragons, all wiped away to the best of the prince's ability. Any expired food from their little kitchenette has been cleared, a case of flavored water chilled in the fridge, whatever Zuko'd noticed Azula's favorite flavor might be. Bed made with fresh sheets and fluffed pillows. Incense burning, filling the air with a spicy sweet smell as soon as one gets to the door.
But most noticeably... Both the living room and bedroom are full of flowers, at least a half dozen large bouquets in each room. There are hyacinths, geraniums, larkspurs in purple as they'd once had before, but now also in white, red and gold, plus poppies of all colors, and a whole bunch of asphodels, the largest bouquet being the focal point of the living room area as soon as one walks in. Aerith made him all of these bouquets by request. He paid money for these β no stealing, no charity. She tried to tell him to defer his payment but he insisted on sending her all the gold right away, as soon as he had this idea. He was determined about that.
The sound of water running in the bathroom can be heard in the distance, but otherwise there's silence in the home. Zunyan is nowhere to be seen, which is... worrisome... considering Zuko's home, rare the dragon's not at his side, especially when all he's doing is lounging on the couch putzing on his phone like nothing, as if he's not just created some far out over-the-top spa environment in their home out of nowhere on a whim. But he's wearing his Fire Nation clothes instead of his now more usual modern alien garb and his hair is damp and spiky from his own shower, taken cold to save all the hot water for the bath being drawn now. It's... quite the scene. But clearly one specifically designed for Azula to walk in on, like he's just there waiting for her with all this. He'd be pacing the room were it not for that he wants to seem distinctly chill when she comes in. But whatever facade he's trying to put on himself, the space is more warm and welcoming than it's been in at least two weeks. He even preemptively has the heater on in the bedroom so it's not cold after getting out of the bath.
Oh... there's Zunyan. Curled up on top of the heater, hidden behind more flowers. Figures. ]
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When it rains, however, she has little choice but to return to the unpleasant space instead of prolonging probably too-intensive training or violent contemplating, hair sticking uncomfortably to her face as she'd been unable to avoid getting wet during her trek back. It's a surprise when she opens the door, nose greeted immediately by the mix of floral and spice, face scrunched up as she examines the abundance of flowers (with meanings she definitely doesn't care about). She hadn't been unfamiliar with Zuko giving her gifts, finding very quickly that was his love language (she'd often donned a bracelet he gave her when she wasn't furious with him), but being accosted with so much flora was... unexpected.
Azula closes the door behind her after telling herself not to exit right back out of it, eyes finally settling on Zuko in familiar reds after another uncomfortable sweep of the room. ]
What is this?
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But again, even if he does find a way to mention it β Azula still might not care about the thought he put into that symbolic gesture, because the symbolism was ultimately more comforting for him, even though he's thinking it's all for her. But he's trying... He's never tried as hard as this to be forgiven, barring, y'know, scouring the globe for three years for the longlost Avatar, uh. But that doesn't count, quite. Nor do his series of adventures gaining Team Avatar's trust. Something intimate, personal like this... the closest was begging forgiveness from Iroh, but Zuko barely had to beg. Iroh didn't even let him carry on with the spiel he'd planned when they reunited at the White Lotus camp, interrupted him with a hug without a hint of anger, so he barely had to try at all to be forgiven by his uncle for his greatest regrets. But this... was harder. While the regret may not be as deep as it'd been with Iroh, the audience tonight is... a lot tougher. It's difficult for Zuko to shift his focal points and perspectives; he's in a certain sense kind of innately self-centered, although in a rather neutral way often, even in trying to act selflessly, the way he goes about that act just comes right back to that trait of his, for better or worse. But he's making a big step here, he thinks. Kid's putting his best foot forward, man, he is...
He stands when she speaks to him, leaving his phone aside immediately, awkwardly standing stiff and straight in the middle of the room to respond. He looks like a soldier whose sergeant just walked in β so much for seeming chill about all this... ]
Hi, Azula. How are you? I cleaned the house. And there's a bath drawn for you. Your special water is in the fridge. A-And, uh, I ordered those spicy dumplings we liked! The ones that reminded us of home, from that Chinese placeβ! But they're being slow, the delivery guy's late... Maybe the rain...
[ He trails off, grumbling and mumbling, rubbing his neck nervously at the snag in his plan from the late delivery. Clearly the way he speaks, though, even just starting with "Hi, Azula. How are you?" for crying out loud, he's indeed planned all of that out word for word. He rehearsed a million openings and false conversations out loud while he was cleaning, trying to get a sense for what's the best way to present all this grandiosity, and decided the best approach was just to act very casual about it. So he doesn't even mention the flowers. Yet still for all his planning, "Hi, Azula. How are you?" was what he landed on...? Because it sounds familiar and off-hand and yet is also showing right away he's interested in her wellbeing β that's the lengthy reasoning that led him there, after many other openings he tried out and picked to shreds overanalyzing. He's coming off far more formal than he thinks, though, in his delivery, because he's jittery from rehearsing this moment too much. And probably coming off far more awkward, too. But down to the last detail, the thought is there β however bewildering the thought that's there may be to her. ]
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