(Untitled)
The old man is careful not to shut the door behind him completely.He is very old, and has the unhealthy look of someone who hasn't seen the sun for a while. His clothes are barely more than rags and rope, and his long, grey hair hangs in greasy, matted strings. He smells, not to put too fine a point on it, as though he hasn't had a chance to
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She's ironing by the fire. In the Inn, ironing is probably not necessary for her to do at all. She could just think it and have it done, but ironing is more of a stress relief thing for her. And if she's not doing something she feels restless and useless.
Edna looks up from the iron, surveying the newcomer. "Now don't you look like you just came straight off 'o livin on the streets? You best think yourself up some clothes and a cup of strong tea. Some food ought to do you good too. Go ahead, just think it, and it'll appear. It's all... magical like that."
There's wide hand waving in front of her even wider chest to emphasize the magical.
((OOC: Welcome! I'm Carissa. :D So good to have new players in the Inn! Welcome!))
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Edna shakes her head and places a hand on the poor, tired man's shoulder.
"Oh, hon, I don't think any less of you. You don't seem dangerous at all, and I ain't never heard of a firebender so I can't think badly of you fer bein one. Still my daughter's taught me not to judge a book by its cover so even if I knew what one was, I'd think no less of you."
She pulls her hand away from Iroh and sends him a warm, maternally smile as she takes a long sip from her cup of tea.
"Now don't you worry one bit. No one's gonna imprison you here. You're safe and welcome to stay 's long as you'd like."
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"You are too kind to me. And your daughter sounds very wise. You must be proud of her."
His smile shifts a little at the first question, but clears rather quickly.
"You must have a different name for them in your world. Where I am from, the art of manipulating the elements is called Bending. I am aligned with the element of fire, and so I am a firebender."
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Edna beams, proudly, and places a hand over her chest as if her heart is swelling with pride at simply the thought of her.
"Oh, no. We don't have anyone like that... alligned with... a- what? An element you said? No. We don't have a different name for them... they don't exist in my world. No one can manipulate fire like that, make it out of thin air or anything."
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His expression goes slightly bewildered. And then outright stunned. No benders? It's a completely alien thought - like trying to imagine a world without music.
"That is . . . very surprising." Pause. "It is not uncommon, in my world. It's a very . . . pervasive art." Unique to the global culture of the Four Nations, apparantly.
There's another pause, as Iroh thinks about it, then asks, "May I show you?"
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Edna had once wanted more, but that most likely won't happen. They're just making enough to get by now, and Tracey is all they really need.
"An art?"
She smiles and then nods quickly. "Yes, please. Show me. I'd like that a lot."
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He smiles widely and holds his right hand palm up over the table. A flurry of dancing flames crackles to life about an inch above his hand and blazes merrily, warm and bright.
"It has been called an art, yes. I prefer to think of it as such."
It's as much a part of him as making tea, really. Hiding his firebending in Ba Sing Se was almost like a game, if losing the game meant imprisonment and possible execution as a threat to the Earth Kingdom's safety. It got old fast.
It's liberating to produce flame in public again without fear of reprisal, and the heat on his hands feels good.
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"That is... beautiful. Like a livin painting." She smiles as bright as the flames. "Art."
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"I am glad you think so."
He lowers his hand, and the flames extinguish themselves. Iroh reaches for the teapot to pour himself some more tea.
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