OTA - Here comes anger management issues, feeling brave?

[awkward_turtleduck]

Open/locked?: OTA
Who: Zuko and whoever
What: Arrival
Warnings: Don't think so

Things aren't looking so hot

Zuko had to blink a few times to be sure his hunger wasn’t playing tricks on his eyes. He’d been trudging through the dry heat of the Earth Kingdom wilderness on the back of the ostrich-horse for days. He was hungry and probably dehydrated, of course he thought the sudden snow and ice around him was a hallucination. He blinked again as he realized he was no longer moving, swaying on his feet with the observation that the ostrich-horse was... gone. He turned in a circle. He’d nodded off on the bird, somehow fallen off, it couldn’t have gotten far. But his surroundings were all wrong. Aside from the sudden stroke of winter, there were also the thorns, the hulking shadow of a building he didn’t recognize the architecture of. Where was he??

Okay, so he did fall off the ostrich-horse then, bumped his head, he was unconscious and having some weird fever dream. He shivered. It was awfully cold for a dream. His tattered travelling clothes were made for dispelling the heat, not the chill of winter. He tried to breathe heat into his lungs, pulling on the warmth of his fire to disperse the worst of the cold.

Nothing.

He looked up, frantic, the sun was covered in clouds, but it was too light for it to be gone, and with the sun still up there, there shouldn’t have been any reason he couldn’t access his bending. He forced himself to take a long breath, assess. He had his pack and his weapons. Or... what had been his weapons. Supposedly. Now they were soft and useless. His water flask was empty, crumbs all that was left of his rations. He didn’t know where he was or how he’d gotten here, but he seemed in no immediate danger aside from starvation or hypothermia without his bending. Inside it was. Hopefully it wouldn’t come down to a fight, he didn’t like his chances, but he needed to get warm.

He kept a wary eye out as he began making his way towards the only building in sight.

A lone figure in dusty brown clothes, his pale face gaunt and highlighting the nasty scar across his left eye and cheek. If his appearance wasn’t the most intimidating right then, maybe the harsh scowl set across his features would be? Did anyone dare approach? Skulk a little too loudly, a little too close?

Comments

[professorsong]

River had been walking past the door as he started towards it from the other side. So she leaned against a wall to watch and wait.

She was grinning at the look on his face, amused seeming. "Shame you're not a few years older sweetie, or you could be my type. As it is, I suppose I'm just here to help. I'm River Song, welcome to prison."

[awkward_turtleduck]

Upon taking notice of her he pulled up short. His hands curled into fists and he all but growled at her choice of words. "Thanks, but I'm not interested."

He hesitated for a moment. He already didn't like this woman, but it seemed she might have some answers. He narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you mean, 'prison'?"

[professorsong]

"I thought you weren't interested?" she asked, a teasing smirk on her lips.

[awkward_turtleduck]

He huffed and rolled his eyes, he didn't have the time for this. "Never mind. I have no intention of playing your games." Surely he could find shelter elsewhere. He turned to walk away, careful to keep her in view of his good eye as he went.

[professorsong]

"Suit yourself, but there isn't much of anywhere else to go, you know... You're as trapped here as the rest of... well... them."

[awkward_turtleduck]

He slowed to a stop, frustration rising. If he could still firebend, he would probably have smoke curling out of his nose with the sharp exhale he gave. Hating it as he did it, he turned back to her. "Where is 'here'. Why are we trapped," Here his eyes narrowed, "And why aren't you?"

[professorsong]

"Here is the Isle Of The Lost. A floating prison island with a barrier that mutes magic and most technology. It was made to hold criminals. And," she grinned. "There isn't a prison in all the universe that can hold me when I don't want to be held. I've been out already, spent some time with someone from home. And when he left, I came back here. This is more my style anyway. Murders, war criminals, gas lighters... Some people don't have much fun when they spend all their time with people who are genuinely good." Implying that she herself preferred to stay here and have fun than be out there where good people were.

[awkward_turtleduck]

He took a step, anger rising. "I am not a criminal! Who keeps us here? Let me speak with them."

He didn't know The Isle of the Lost, he'd seen it on no map, and he'd spent more than his share of time staring at maps. Neither did he know how he got here, though that particular tidbit was not something he was eager to share, lest this woman realize his weak state. She seemed to be implying a fondness for... rather unsavoury pastimes.

[professorsong]

Really? He really just demanded to see a manager? What was this, early 21st century Earth?

"You're welcome to speak to them. The next time they bother to show up," she said with a smirk, unconcerned about his anger. At least, seeming to be. She looked amused.

[mist_the_point]

As Zuko headed toward the building, someone else happened to be exiting. Someone in rather intimidating-looking armor, with a bone-tipped spear slung across his back. And someone who also had gray skin, pointed ears, and white hair despite clearly not being elderly in the slightest.

Foulques frowned as he saw the newcomer. Another who was barely more than a child, though the prominent scar on his face showed that he was no stranger to violence. More than ever, Fouques wished to have a word with whatever force kept leaving such youngsters in this goal, but as he wasn't likely to get one, he'd have to settle for having a word with the newcomer himself.

"Hmm... I would say well come, boy, but that would be doing this place too great a kindness," he said. He stepped aside slightly, getting out of the young man's path to the door. "I can't claim it's a great deal warmer inside, but at least it's out of the wind, which is a marked improvement."

[awkward_turtleduck]

As soon as Zuko saw the strange man he froze. What in Agni's name..? He must be a spirit of some sort, or have some sort of deathly illness. People weren't typically grey. He made no move to enter, the chill entirely forgotten. The stranger didn't appear hostile, though there was no way to know if that would change.

He let his hand fall onto the handles of his dual dao blades. Even if they'd gone limp and dull somehow, it was a habit, and he was ashamed to admit it brought him a small hint of comfort at their presence. He narrowed his eyes and spoke with all the commanding power he knew how to project. "What are you?"

[mist_the_point]

Oh joy; this song and dance again. Hopefully this one wouldn't try to claim he was related to a dragon at least. "A Duskwight Elezen," he said. "Though given your reaction, I suspect those terms mean nothing to you. In any case, you may rest assured that I'm neither spirit, nor fiend, nor undead; I'm simply a man, just of a different sort than you're familiar with."

"I also mean you no harm. I am Foulques of the Mist. And you are?"

[awkward_turtleduck]

His eyes narrowed further. Not a spirit? Hah. Precisely what a spirit would say. He couldn't be trusted, but seeing as he'd shown no malicious intent... Yet. He'd play along. If for no other reason than to determine where in Agni's name he had ended up.

He drew up straight, rolling his shoulders back and tilting his chin up. "I am Zuko, son of Firelord Ozai." Cover be blasted, hopefully his name would intimidate this stranger. He didn't look particularly like an Earth Nation Citizen anyway.

[mist_the_point]

Unfortunately for Zuko, Foulques wasn't intimidated. In fact he didn't even seem to recognize the name, though the title did raise an eyebrow. "'Firelord', is he?", he said, then gave an amused little scoff. "Fortunate for him then, that he doesn't live in Eorzea, especially Thanalan. I doubt that the Amalj'aa would take kindly to any man claiming a title so near to that of their Primal deity."

[awkward_turtleduck]

Zuko narrowed his eyes. What kind of creature living under a rock had never heard of the Firelord, if not Zuko himself?

Oh... the man- spirit? was simply off his rocker. Speaking in tongues. "I'll forgive your threat to the Firelord, since you're obviously not well." He sneered.

"Tell me, do you at least know where we are?"

[mist_the_point]

Oh that's how he wanted to play it, huh? Alright then. "And I shall forgive your insult since you're clearly little more than a child," he said dryly. "But as to where we are, this is the Isle of the Lost. And before you ask how you came to be here, it was by the same magic and strange turn of fate that brought myself and most others who are currently here to this place."

[awkward_turtleduck]

"I am not a child!" He threw a hand out, knowing there would be flames if there weren't still something wrong with his bending. He was this close to challenging the man to an Agni Kai. His lack of bending the only thing that kept the words bit back.

He ground his teeth and fumed. Finally he managed to growl out the words past his anger. "I know of no such magic. Is this the spirit realm then?" Spirits were the only thing he could think would be able to whisk a large number of people away mysteriously.

[elvendryad]

It smelled faintly of smoke and burning inside the building... but clearly, whatever the source of it was, it wasn't out of control. The air was pretty clear of smoke overall, and more importantly, the smell of fish was just as present as the smell of whatever had been burned. Which meant that the most likely answer to what the scent was... was a cooking fire. And one that had been used to cook, at that. Which meant there was food.

Unless it was already eaten?

If he followed the scent == and why wouldn't he? -- it would lead him to a room not too terribly far from the entrance. The floor had been swept of trash, the furniture all moved well out of the way, stacked up against a wall, and there was a small pile of wood of some sort off in the corner. And there, nearish the center of the room, was indeed a cooking fire... it had to be, by definition, since someone was actively cooking on it, a small cauldron sitting in the fire with what looked like soup inside. Here, the scent of fish was absolutely unmistakable.

The person tending to it, however, was... not human. At a glance, this was some sort of knight in a full suit of shiny black armor, all of it well-fitted... too well fitted; it plainly added nothing to his bulk, as slim a tall figure as he was, even sitting on his heels as he was. Was it an exoskeleton of some kind? Because honestly, that almost made more sense, given how the pieces fit together on him. But it was his head that probably gave him away; his neck and most of his head were the same shiny black material as most of the rest of him, but for his face, as though he were wearing some sort of tight coif... which didn't much explain why his ears, too pointed to be a human's, weren't hidden under it, but were also shiny black, and as much detail as anyone's was easy to make out. There was no sign of hair, just a handful of black twigs with little black orbs, jewel-like, sticking up-like a crown behind him. His face itself was brown, smooth as any, but something about it looked like wood, the grain mostly vertical, running through the shapes of his features as though it had grown like that... and his eyes were solidly jet black.

This couldn't be a human... right?

He wasn't looking up just yet, intent on what he was doing. He'd pulled his thick cape around his side -- it looked a bit like felt, or maybe a fabric made of moss, with a few tiny leaves here and there over it, mostly green, though some patches were growing in slightly different hues now == and he was feeling it over carefully, and then moved to hold it over the pot, brushing his hand over the faux cloth. Little bits of it fell easily off of it and into the soup, and the scent changed quickly, the tiny leaves proving to be quite aromatic... was it onion? garlic? pepper? some other sort of herbs? Whatever it was, it was surely enticing to someone who was hungry. And the figure dropped his cape again, and took the ladel back up, to stir the soup again.

Zuko might need to say something, or at least step closer and into his view, to get this odd guy's attention.

[awkward_turtleduck]

As he entered and the smell hit his nose he immediately perked up. His stomach growled loudly and his mouth watered, how long ago was his last hot meal? Of course, cooking fires meant people, but with the element of surprise he might just be able to get what he needed...

He crouch low and crept through the cluttered halls towards the smell. It was definitely a decrepit old place, probably stank when the tantalizing scent of fish wasn't masking everything else.

When he found the room, he was not expecting the sight that greeted him. Some kind of spirit creature seemed to be minding the pot, and in any other circumstance, he would simply turn on his heel and leave. But he was so hungry, risking the dangers of angering a spirit almost seemed worth it. He watched the creature's movements from the shadows of the doorway for a long few minutes.

Was it... using pieces of it's own body in the soup? Yup, that was a no, everyone knew you didn't eat anything from the spirit world. Starving to death would be a better end. He got ready to turn and leave, but the heady smell of herbs hit him and his stomach betrayed him, grumbling loudly in the relative silence of the room. He froze, foot hovering mid step back.

[elvendryad]

Chell peeked up at that, finally hearing him over the sound of the fire, even as he continued to mix the liquid with the ladle, carefully making certain nothing was sticking to the bottom.

Ah. ...Well, this one didn't look to be that old... more children, if a slightly older one than some he'd seen here before? ...but more importantly, this youth's stomach had made a sound just now.

"Come in, friend," he said quietly. The tree guy was talking to you, Zuko. Yeah, you. ...He sounded pretty calm, at least. Relaxed, even. "I am certain this is cooked enough by now, if you would like some. It isn't much... but it is what there is, and I have been told that the flavors it has had as of late are an improvement over the flavors it has had previously." Okay, maybe he even sounded a little amused, too.

He reached over to somewhere on the other side of the cooking fire, and brought over a little wooden-looking bowl. He wasn't exactly waiting for Zuko's reply before he used the ladle lo start filling it up, getting a bunch of that thin-looking broth, a few rather decent chunks of what was almost certainly meat, and pieces of something dark and blackish-green... seaweed? The tidbits that were from his cape stood out, few as they were, and small -- lighter colors than the seaweed, for certain, and somewhat different hues, too.

Did he really want to turn it down?

[awkward_turtleduck]

No. He didn't. Of course he didn't. Not half (or more) starved as he was. That frustratingly unavoidable need for sustenance his body was shouting at him was the only thing that kept his feet tacked to the grimy floor.

The spirit's unthreatening response to his presence didn't hurt either, though it would take more than that to get him past the doorframe.

He couldn't say the slop looked particularly appealing. That didn't stop his stomach giving him away with another long groan as he eyed the bowl.

He tore his gaze up and away from the food, towards the spirit's unsettling eyes. Chell could likely see the internal back and forth he had across the boy's face. After a tense moment, and an even tenser set to the prince's jaw, he brought his hands up in front of his chest, one closed into a fist and pressed to the open palm of the other. He leaned forward, a bow, though it set every nerve ablaze to lower his gaze away from the spirit.

He held the depth of the bow, about forty five degrees, and spoke. "To whom do I have the pleasure to speak?"

[elvendryad]

He hesitated briefly, tilting his head a little as he regarded the boy's gesture. That... was a bow, wasn't it? Well... humans. Just... humans. The wine fairy had been right, he really didn't understand them well. If only he still had his other abilities here... but he didn't.

"My name is Chell," he said, "and though I think I appreciate the meaning behind what you are doing right now... it is unnecessary. I would rather you simply come and eat... and tell me your name, in kind?" He lifted the bowl a little again... come get it?

[awkward_turtleduck]

He straightened stiffly, uncertain as he was relieved, and took a step forward. "My name is Zuko, son of Firelord Ozai."

He crossed the rest of the way to the spirit's- Chell's side, leaving plenty of room between them, only close enough to accept the offered bowl. He looked down into the chunky broth warily. "Thank you for the food." Though he made no move to eat just yet.

[elvendryad]

Chell gave him a single nod, smiling faintly, and eyed the wood burning under the pot. He took up a metal rod, and carefully started to adjust how some of it sat, keeping it underneath a little better. "I have been attempting to figure out how to make it taste better, for those who need eat. So if you have ideas... know that while I may not know humans' names for many plants, I would still appreciate what suggestions you are willing to offer."

The soup was... well, it was soup. The broth had little bits of what looked like overcooked fish meat in it, turning it slightly thicker than it might've otherwise been. Starch from the potato chunks surely also contributed to that. There were bits of green and black and brown, some larger than others, and in various shapes, bits of leaves and mosslike, soft thin shapes that Chell had added recently -- some of which Zuko had watched him add, in fact, that were still softening as they cooked in the hot, nearly gravy-like broth as he watched.

It wasn't fancy, but it certainly smelled quite edible....

The flavor might be a bit interesting, though; whatever herbs and spices Zuko was used to... this wasn't quite it. It wasn't bad, just... different, as its scent hinted.

[awkward_turtleduck]

He hesitated, before bringing the bowl to his nose. It didn't look appealing, but the smell... and he was starving.

He watched Chell poke at the fire, and nearly reached a hand out to spur the flames on, but then he remembered that his bending would not work here, and instead let out a slow breath.

He took a tentative sip of the broth, and yes, it was simple, and much earthier than was his preference. More similar to the few Earth Nation dishes him and his uncle had tried. But his starving stomach cared little for the flavour. He forced himself to sip slowly at the broth, he knew from experience that pouring the whole thing down his throat would only lead him to being sick.

When he got to the few solid ingredients he cringed. A little overcooked, which did the texture no favours, but again, he was starving, and little would dissuade him from eating the meal. He was already risking the consequences of eating probable spirit food.

He eyed Chell, unsure if the request for feedback was genuine, or a trick. He decided to play it safe. "It's good, thank you. A bit more spice would be more my preference."