The Salle, Monday Afternoon
There are people -- mainly swordmasters and those crazy guys from movies about Vietnam -- who believe that in order to be a good fighter, you have to know your weapon, love your weapon, be your weapon, caress it like a lover, eat with it, sleep with it... You get the picture.
The point is, even those people's stomachs would be turned by Sokka right now.
He cradled and caressed his boomerang, clucked and cooed over it, hugged and squeezed it, gave it bubbly kisses, apologized for being away from it for so long...
And also used it to completely obliterate targets on the other side of the salle. A lot.
And when some vicious coconuts snuck in and attacked, he used it to dispatch them, as well.
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The point is, even those people's stomachs would be turned by Sokka right now.
He cradled and caressed his boomerang, clucked and cooed over it, hugged and squeezed it, gave it bubbly kisses, apologized for being away from it for so long...
And also used it to completely obliterate targets on the other side of the salle. A lot.
And when some vicious coconuts snuck in and attacked, he used it to dispatch them, as well.
[[ open! ]]