Jun 01, 2011 11:58
[At first, there's nothing on the network but ragged breathing, the slightest hitch of breath, as if the owner of the PCD is trying to catch his breath --
A cough. Two. Three.
And then, a voice, with the oh-so-familiar tinge of irritation and frustration, except without the usual energy.
Zuko sounds tired.]
Where are my swords?
what in the hell is going on,
because life couldn't get any worse,
zuko has priorities,
the clinic is my second home,
zombies are some fucked up shit,
filters aren't necessary,
nobody cares,
lol welp didn't see that coming,
back from the dead,
i hate you animus,
if you ignore it then it doesn't exist,
swordplay is a hobby,
i hate you tyki,
shut up i have a headache,
oh hey unohana,
i will punch your face with fire,
ouch that hurts,
zuko is never happy
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Where are you?
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That's not what I asked.
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Home. Where you should be.
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There's a shift, as if someone is getting up, before -- no, silence again.]
I'm not the one who didn't bring my body to the clinic.
[There -- should be some sort of irritation, attached to that statement, but it's still completely tired.
... okay, with a slight amount of irritation. What gives, people? Zuko drags your dead bodies to the clinic the moment they hit the ground. Why didn't you do the same thing for him?]
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Instead, she just sits there in silence for a moment, before answering:]
There wasn't anything to bring.
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But something tells him that isn't the answer, so:]
What happened?
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[Katara makes a low sound of frustration.]
Tell me where you are.
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He showed it on the network.
So all you get, Katara, is the sound of clicking -- Zuko is going through the past week's archives quickly, because if no one is going to tell him the easy way, he'll find out for himself -- ]
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[x,y]
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Katara doesn't care.
She heads toward the coordinates at a dead, flat run -- she's not sure if Zuko is going to try to get up, to try to leave, and she's out of breath, nearly doubled over with panting when she does arrive.]
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It's easier to hide the shaking if you're pressed against a wall.]
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But seeing him like that, she couldn't. Conflicted: it was taking everything she had not to walk over, not to try to hold him and make it better, but he'd push her away, shove her off. That wouldn't be what he wanted.
So, instead, she moves to stand close to the wall a little awkwardly, pressing a hand against it.]
Zuko.
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It wasn't bad enough that I died.
[It's a furious hiss.]
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Zuko. It just-- that thing happens, here.
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