Her calloused fingertips dragged over the satiny walls of the Hotel's hallway; her steps were light and careful as a fawn's as she studied her surroundings as she half expected a predator to show up and drag her into one of the rooms with it’s claws. Of course, the predator would realize Katara had more than a few tricks when it came to getting
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It's sweltering, this tepid air, so much as to cause one born amidst the tropics to throw a sweat. Even the Fire Nation is relieved of mugginess by the occasional cool breeze that sweeps across the ocean, but this room has no ventilation -- it's stagnant and sticky. Vapor arises with nearly every breath, her own inner warmth fueling the humidity swirling about the enclosed space like a sauna ( ... )
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She's a master now, trained by the best of the North and the best of the Southern tribes, no matter how she may feel about Sifu Pakku and Hama. Katara is not going to let another door get between her and freedom.
Then the sharp, almost saccharine and intelligent voice of a young woman fills the room and echoes in her ears. The water whip falls to the ground with a resounding splash and she whirls around to face the announcer, and she drinks the atmosphere of the room. It's unpleasant, even worse than the hallway and the rooms she peeked into priorAnd of ( ... )
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But what Azula doesn't know is the extent of the Hotel's power; the necessity of the acts. Her heated foe is the first person she's encountered face to face. Without further explanation, she remains clueless as to the extent of her, now their, predicament ( ... )
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From her tenure as a people-person, the Princess could easily discern the nuances of emotion on another person's face. For now, Katara regards her with the former, but a familiar tremor stirs within her -- a desire to once again see the Waterbender vulnerable, radiating pure fear. No matter what this strange Hotel threw at her, she would see to it that her enemy be rendered prone and helpless before her.
Azula draws herself to her full height at the older girl's approach, intent on bridging the discrepancy between them. The Waterbender had always been the taller of the two, much to her foe's chagrin. The sharp golden gaze lowers to Katara's attire, almost seductive in the accentuation of supple curves through shadow. She unconsciously swallows, throat dry against the muggy air ( ... )
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Right now, the young Tribeswoman fears the Hotel. Not Azula.
In fact, Katara had gained just another inch more over the petite princess since the last they saw each other. The way how Katara carries herself indicates she's not quite aware of how seductive the clothing truly is and her anger and fear of the hotel keeps her from quite seeing Azula's flickering and darting gaze.
"Yes. Long after Ba Sing Se was taken back." She is wise enough to never say how. Because she has a feeling this Azula is not from when Katara remembers it. "And you're completely right, a brothel with a mind of it's own that we're both stuck in."
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A scowl draws painted lips downward; how aggravating to have lost an inch more to this meddlesome peon. Azula's stature is an inadequacy not easily remedied -- in its barest truth, it's entirely out of her hands, and how it vexes her. But her irritation ebbs as Katara sashays closer, seemingly attuned to the cut of the cloth and how her movements draw the gauzy fabric tighter to curves and creases. The younger girl swallows again, thickly, puzzled by what appears to be a ( ... )
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It did strike Katara that Azula was... human in the clothing. Similiar to what her brother wore and not entirely shapeless on her form. Inklings of a young woman about too bloom; not all different than Katara had been at that time. It just... never occuried to Katara that Azula was feminine in nature and had a figure to display. It was always hidden under armor or layers of cloth.
Of course, she never considered what she was wearing would be distracting to Azula.
There's a broken smile of almost pity on the Watermaiden's face. "It still haunts me to think about the last time I saw you; and ( ... )
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Azula doesn't like to display her body, but the room is unbearably warm; stifling... and she never expected a visitor to pop in. Unfortunately, the sweltering air is acting to draw the fabric closer to her in much the same way as for Katara; it would normally hang from her form a bit more than it is at present. Having a feminine build attracts unwanted attention -- she's seen it enough times with Ty Lee, who considers her curves to be assets and utilizes them for that very purpose. It's not so for the Fire Princess. The armor and heavy robes denounce any emerging shape, which, in addition to functionality, is the look she's aiming for. Her current clothes are decidedly utilitarian in design as well, but apparently... not as concealing.
The flickering gaze of gold tears away from the peasant's curvaceous attire; an unwanted distraction ( ... )
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Katara just can’t help but look. She is pretty sure that she wasn’t much older (maybe younger) than Azula and apart of her feels almost guilty for noticing. But she can’t be more than… just a year and a half at most older now. A year or nine months at the least. Right?
It was Azula and Katara shook her head scowling at herself. The clothes are nowhere risqué as her own, but it was still so strange to know she’s looking at someone… she never really. Never considered as…
She had no idea how to word it.
And why was Azula looking at her like that? She didn’t have anything that Azula didn’t have, right? Right. Still she seemed to stick to the shadows as if keeping away from the Fire Princess’ eyes ( ... )
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But watching her enemy squirm still takes a backseat to breaking free of this forsaken brothel.
There isn't much difference in age between them, but enough to be noticed. By this point, Katara is nearly staring, a pointed blue gaze roving over the younger girl. Had she been of lesser confidence, she might shift uncomfortably or act to divert the sudden attention. It's a curious behavior, one Azula wonders about, but doesn't question. She has no knowledge of the fact that her brother would someday dress the same, for that to possibly be the reason behind the peasant's fixation ( ... )
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It made Katara uncomfortable.
So she thinks. A lot of this room makes her uncomfortable, the heat that fills her lungs and the tingle down her skin and it’s just aggravating. It’s not like this at the Fire Nation. Even the homes in the Fire Nation provide some coolness and she’s sure there’s a hook up in the palace to make it cooler.
“You lost. You lost hard.” Katara says with a frown. No one is quite sure what made Azula break down so completely. Fate? Luck? She has no idea, other than the fact she was able to take Azula down after she cheated in striking Zuko ( ... )
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Even the palace itself is spared the sweltering atmosphere of this room. It wouldn't have been Azula's first choice of occupancy, but it's where the Hotel deposited her, and before she could make an attempt to switch or hunt for an exit, the Waterbender stumbled on a wayward chunk of carpet and trapped them both inside.
"I still don't see why I should believe you." Anyone can lie, and though the Water peasant frowns with the assertion, something about it rings false. Princess Azula never fails; never settles for a loss. Assuming the ( ... )
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But it was the room that Azula decided to stay in, the one that felt like a sauna with it's particular brand of steam. If Katara focused, she realized, she could see the vapors too. Sometimes she was able to feel the stirring of water among the opalescence clouds but she couldn't quite feel anything of the sort of the vapors that danced lazily above her head and around her.
"Believing me or not is up to you. If you don't want to believe me, I'm perfectly fine about that." As much as the Watermaid felt pity for her 'world's' fallen Princess, she didn't feel enough to regert the good that happened after Azula's fall. Or the ego boost she had in displaying her abilities so marvelously ( ... )
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It turned out to be a wise idea for Katara; the hallway was a bit steamy but never unbearable like this. It didn't have this fake water vapor that curled around and teased their senses. Okay, there was some, but there was something else.
"Oh, but then that would make me a nice person. And between you and your brother, I'm not as nice as I used to be." Somewhere, Katara could hear Sokka laughing. She gives Azula a smile then, sharp and cool as a glacier. "So I'll let you think whatever you want to think." There had to be a little bit of pay back for the suffering Azula's... past-future self? ... has done.
Besides, it was an excellent way to keep her distracted from the strangeness pooling between her legs. She actually was familiar with the sensation; terribly familiar. But she wasn't going to acknowledge it. "I didn't exactly have a choice either." She frowns, touching where her mother's necklace used to be. Maybe it's safe... somewhere. Katara looks up at Azula and then ( ... )
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