(no subject)
Characters: fn_rebel, angle_on_it
When: After this post (around dawn).
Where: In the area of Queen Anne's Row.
Rating: PG-ish?
Summary: After slightly losing his grip on reality, Jet ventures off to clear his head, running into Sokka who's been suffering the same problem.
He couldn’t remember the last time he got a full night’s sleep, mostly because he didn’t want to. He got two, maybe three, full nights this week; that was more than he would have ever hoped for. His brows are furrowed and his hands are stuffed in his pockets. As much as he wanted to block them out, the dreams replayed in his mind over and over. The mental image of Long Feng, the man who supposedly killed him, telling him he never died.
Was it a fortune? Was it more than a dream? Some forewarning? Or was he giving into what Adstring had set up for the event? Was he giving into what he wanted to believe? It was more likely, but he couldn’t help but doubt it. Even after his conversation with Katara. Even after a long, dreamless sleep.
The sight of Sokka was what ultimately broke Jet’s thoughts and the freedom fighter let his mind wander back to the argument they’d had just a few days. Sokka’s behavior. Maybe that was a sign of some sort? He felt a little edgy again, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. Shaking his head, he approached the tribesman with a neutral expression, not really sure what to expect from Sokka at all at this point. “Sokka…” He paused, not sure what to say. To ask how he was doing, well, it wouldn’t be so bad. Jet’s thoughts traveled more to what he might be thinking. “What’s up?”
When: After this post (around dawn).
Where: In the area of Queen Anne's Row.
Rating: PG-ish?
Summary: After slightly losing his grip on reality, Jet ventures off to clear his head, running into Sokka who's been suffering the same problem.
He couldn’t remember the last time he got a full night’s sleep, mostly because he didn’t want to. He got two, maybe three, full nights this week; that was more than he would have ever hoped for. His brows are furrowed and his hands are stuffed in his pockets. As much as he wanted to block them out, the dreams replayed in his mind over and over. The mental image of Long Feng, the man who supposedly killed him, telling him he never died.
Was it a fortune? Was it more than a dream? Some forewarning? Or was he giving into what Adstring had set up for the event? Was he giving into what he wanted to believe? It was more likely, but he couldn’t help but doubt it. Even after his conversation with Katara. Even after a long, dreamless sleep.
The sight of Sokka was what ultimately broke Jet’s thoughts and the freedom fighter let his mind wander back to the argument they’d had just a few days. Sokka’s behavior. Maybe that was a sign of some sort? He felt a little edgy again, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. Shaking his head, he approached the tribesman with a neutral expression, not really sure what to expect from Sokka at all at this point. “Sokka…” He paused, not sure what to say. To ask how he was doing, well, it wouldn’t be so bad. Jet’s thoughts traveled more to what he might be thinking. “What’s up?”