[Drabble]
Player: banerry
Subject: Azula
Table: A
Prompt: 005- Gloves
Azula hated winter clothes. They were bulky and cumbersome, and no matter how warm they were supposed to keep her, she always felt ridiculous walking around in public-- or anywhere-- wearing a big puffy coat and snowpants, her arms and legs sticking out of her marshmallow-y middle like twigs. It gave her a weird sort of appreciation for Water Tribesmen. She felt as if she could barely move in this getup, much less bend.
The idea that coats and blankets and heating systems could keep you warm enough was a myth, she had decided. The more you piled on, the more your skin perspired-- not in the balmy, heady way of the Fire Nation, but in a damp, sticky, unpleasant way. And no matter how many layers you put on or how high you turned the heating dial, the cold was still always there-- waiting, on the other side of the window or outside of your coat and hat. Azula could feel it. Even on the living room couch all the way on the other side of the room, she could feel the cold creeping in through the naked glass of the window. Wanting her. Trying to get at her.
When she could get away with it, she always shut the curtains.
Subject: Azula
Table: A
Prompt: 005- Gloves
Azula hated winter clothes. They were bulky and cumbersome, and no matter how warm they were supposed to keep her, she always felt ridiculous walking around in public-- or anywhere-- wearing a big puffy coat and snowpants, her arms and legs sticking out of her marshmallow-y middle like twigs. It gave her a weird sort of appreciation for Water Tribesmen. She felt as if she could barely move in this getup, much less bend.
The idea that coats and blankets and heating systems could keep you warm enough was a myth, she had decided. The more you piled on, the more your skin perspired-- not in the balmy, heady way of the Fire Nation, but in a damp, sticky, unpleasant way. And no matter how many layers you put on or how high you turned the heating dial, the cold was still always there-- waiting, on the other side of the window or outside of your coat and hat. Azula could feel it. Even on the living room couch all the way on the other side of the room, she could feel the cold creeping in through the naked glass of the window. Wanting her. Trying to get at her.
When she could get away with it, she always shut the curtains.