challenge #129: raw
Title: Vice
Author: cosmonaut_00
Word Count: 319
Characters: Katara, Azula
Challenge: "raw"
It's a different sort of satisfaction than what she gains through battle. There's something about being in control of a living, breathing entity, about encountering almost no resistance as she instantly renders her opponent (victim) submissive, that gives her a feeling of pure, raw power. It's a primal gratification that suppresses her better moral judgment.
'What the hell are you--' she can't finish, because her airways have suddenly constricted.
She's been healing long enough to know that people rarely understand their own bodies; maybe that's why she can't stop. She can feel everything: the palpitations of the heart brought on by fear (more often than not, she's the cause), the blood coursing through every vein, humming and thrumming like a miniature Ba Sing Se. Some (darker) part of her also revels in the ability to easily pinch off those tiny pathways, knowing that even the minutest traffic jam in the right place can kill the host in seconds.
'Stop--stop, please--' the princess begs for the first time in her life, when her torturess lets up long enough to allow a whispered plea. 'Why are you doing this?'
The guards wonder what Katara has been doing on her daily visits to the dungeon for the past month. If they knew she was the reason why their former princess was growing steadily crazier (other than her initial mental condition, and what being in a dank, dark prison cell would do even to a sane person), they would wonder why Azula didn't say anything.
'You deserve worse than death for all you've done.' It's her version of justice, and she harbors no guilt over her methods.
But if they knew exactly what the young waterbending--soon to be bloodbending--master was getting up to in there, they would figure out that Katara had bent Azula's poisonous mouth forever shut.
Author: cosmonaut_00
Word Count: 319
Characters: Katara, Azula
Challenge: "raw"
It's a different sort of satisfaction than what she gains through battle. There's something about being in control of a living, breathing entity, about encountering almost no resistance as she instantly renders her opponent (victim) submissive, that gives her a feeling of pure, raw power. It's a primal gratification that suppresses her better moral judgment.
'What the hell are you--' she can't finish, because her airways have suddenly constricted.
She's been healing long enough to know that people rarely understand their own bodies; maybe that's why she can't stop. She can feel everything: the palpitations of the heart brought on by fear (more often than not, she's the cause), the blood coursing through every vein, humming and thrumming like a miniature Ba Sing Se. Some (darker) part of her also revels in the ability to easily pinch off those tiny pathways, knowing that even the minutest traffic jam in the right place can kill the host in seconds.
'Stop--stop, please--' the princess begs for the first time in her life, when her torturess lets up long enough to allow a whispered plea. 'Why are you doing this?'
The guards wonder what Katara has been doing on her daily visits to the dungeon for the past month. If they knew she was the reason why their former princess was growing steadily crazier (other than her initial mental condition, and what being in a dank, dark prison cell would do even to a sane person), they would wonder why Azula didn't say anything.
'You deserve worse than death for all you've done.' It's her version of justice, and she harbors no guilt over her methods.
But if they knew exactly what the young waterbending--soon to be bloodbending--master was getting up to in there, they would figure out that Katara had bent Azula's poisonous mouth forever shut.