#i also need to talk about more at length about how azula rationalizes that the weak deserve to die thru ozai for MULTIPLE interconnected | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

comradekatara · 16 days

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so on a scale of aang (killing is always wrong) to katara (killing is a statement) to sokka (killing is a tool), where would the rest of the gaang + ozais angels go?

toph is hard to pin down because she’s the only character who ever actually kills people outside of the context of war. and i don’t know if she even realizes what she did, because she’s 12 and the adrenaline rush of discovering that you can actually metalbend probably supersedes any logical reasoning in that moment, but like, she did just leave two guys to die a gruesome death in a metal box. so i do think it’s more nuanced that simply saying, “to toph, killing is fun and flirty,” but like, there is a not insignificant part of her that will gladly kill as a means of asserting her power over others and individual autonomy, and has no compunctions about killing those who threaten her autonomy specifically, as it is such an acute point of trauma for her. but also, she’s twelve so like, she’ll probably develop a more nuanced approach to that quandary as she ages.

zuko’s stance on killing is mostly that he’s happy to outsource that violence and then take credit for it as long as he personally doesn’t have to get his hands dirty. like he’ll hire an assassin but won’t bring himself to admit that “end them” means “kill them,” or he’ll threaten to kill zhao and then try to save his life at the last minute. he wants aang to kill his dad but would never actually kill ozai himself, just as he wants katara to kill yon rha, but would never actually kill ozai himself. and i’m sure zuko thinks this is all because he’s a coward who simply lacks the capacity to be ruthless and effective (like sokka), but actually it’s symptomatic of zuko’s greatest quality, which is his inherent sensitivity, his queasy stomach for violence, his predisposition for gentleness, the fact that he actually struggles to deny his own inclinations and simply submit himself to a logic of brutal death and destruction. he thinks it makes him weak, but the fact that he actually has a desire to do the right thing and be a good person despite it all is truly his greatest strength.

azula is always operating from a place of survival because it was impressed to her from a very young age that she exists in a world that is unforgivingly cruel, and it is kill or be killed. she does not want to die (which is quite possibly one of her greatest points of deviation from sokka, but i digress) so she wholeheartedly submits herself to this logic, and unlike zuko, who struggles to erode his own humanity even under the threat of violence, azula is very good at becoming something “monstrous” (her words) out of fear, can contort herself into any shape necessary as long as the threat is tangible enough. so obviously azula approaches killing in the same way sokka does, no surprise there. murder is a tool to achieve her ends, to ensure her own safety and survival. it is simply a mechanism of war. but unlike sokka’s view of it, she also believes that the strong kill the weak because the weak deserve to die, and that logic she inherited from ozai.

we never see suki actively kill anyone, but she does threaten to feed sokka to the unagi, so like, even if she is (probably) joking, i don’t think suki is flat out against killing. i think she’ll kill if she absolutely has to, but would also prefer not to because she clearly values and holds a deep appreciation for life. but also, whenever there is a gap in our textual understanding of suki, i usually just fill it in by being like wwkd (what would kyoshi do), so maybe that’s why i just said. who knows

mai always makes an effort to never actually stab people with her blades, but rather pin them in place. that said, whether this is because a Y-7 cartoon simply isn’t allowed to depict blood or if it’s because mai is genuinely that attuned to not seriously hurting the people she throws knives at, i’m not entirely sure. i like to think that mai doesn’t actually want to hurt people, because like zuko, she is naturally inclined towards sensitivity and gentleness, but i think there’s also a part of her that would lock people in a metal box if she could. i think the best way to summarize mai is thus, excitement is valuable (including the heat of battle), but killing is unpleasant.

ty lee has actively refined a technique that makes her extremely dangerous without ever actually having to cause long-lasting damage to someone physically (psychologically is another story). yet another W for ty lee air nomad heritage theory, but i digress. ty lee is smart enough that she never actually has to be personally responsible and culpable for killing anyone ever, but she is also submitting to and enabling the violence of an empire for the sake of her own survival, so it’s not like she’s not complicit either. so to ty lee, killing is also a tool, but one she personally doesn’t need to employ, which is a comfort to her.

iroh (technically you didn’t ask about him but he’s fascinating so i can’t just leave him out) used to view killing as a tool, and now views it as an inviolable taboo because it took him like over 50 years to recognize the inherent value of human life and the grief of losing a loved one. so it’s not that he grew up in a “kill or be killed world” that fostered his need to kill to ensure his survival, but simply that he grew up in paradigm that dictated that “killing is the path to attaining glory” and he was good at killing, and thus glorious. but then he experienced the consequences of that worldview firsthand, and had to completely recalibrate his own logic of conquest and domination. and so now he’s still capable of violence in equal measure, but is less willing to exercise it for purely shallow, destructive reasons. yay..??

jet actually does think that killing is fun and flirty. anyone who disagrees with him deserves to die because he is simply right about everything. sokka? closet fire nation sympathizer, obviously. guy he met on a boat who said “hey im not really interested in joining your child militia”? well he’s probably the prince of the fucking fire nation (okay he was right about that one but he had no way of knowing it so). he watched the rough rhinos burn down his house and murder his family with a smile on their faces, and a part of him that day calcified and decided that the only way to truly reclaim his power was to beat them at his own game. so he does everything in his power to control the people he can, to control his narrative, to refine his logic in a way that makes him the uncontested hero no matter what. but in truth, it’s quite simple: he wants power because he has none.

haru exists somewhere between “killing is a statement” and “killing is a tool.” killing is a tool because it functions as a statement. killing is a statement because it functions as a tool. violent resistance is necessary by any means necessary, but you know, in a nice way. he’s basically just the model of the “good” colonized subject who fights for collective liberation instead of personal empowerment, so it makes sense that he’s introduced before jet as like the emblem of what katara should do (how she should fight, what she would fight for) versus what she shouldn’t. which is like, perhaps a simplistic reduction of “good” vs “bad” methods of resistance into “our noble collective action” vs “their senseless terrorism,” but like. lol. what can you do

#turtles-alltheway-down #asks #analysis #toph #zuko #azula #suki #mai #ty lee #iroh #jet #haru #put the main three who matter here above and then the rest below the cut #sometimes i forget that zuko is a good character bc yall are so annoying about him…. but then i remember #i also need to talk about more at length about how azula rationalizes that the weak deserve to die thru ozai for MULTIPLE interconnected #reasons that I didn’t have time to get into here #and also just azula’s relationship to ozai in general #but im putting off actually writing that bc it is. genuinely devastating and i don’t wanna #anyway!!

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

Text

The Art Of Remembrance (Part 4)

Azula sits up, every fiber of her soul and body standing on end. The wind whistling against the side of the house unsettles some part of her. She can’t say exactly why; at first she thinks it is simply because it is a reminder of the unrelenting cold that had almost killed her. But she thinks that it is deeper than that. More primal. Complemented by the nightmare, the shrill howl and the slight shaking of the house leaves her jittery and on edge.

She doesn’t know where to go but she doesn’t want to remain on that sofa, fighting for sleep that won’t come, so she takes to wandering aimlessly about the house with only a small flame in her palms. She meanders into the living room and stands before the rack of weapons. Those will occupy her, at least for a short span of time.

She brushes her fingers over the dull surface of the blades, runs them over the intricate tribal etchings. Her fire glints and bounces off of the metal. She traces her fingers to the end of the topmost sword. To the hilt. Wrapped around it is a dark leather that ends in long fringes.

She follows the length of the fringe to wear it ends with several large wooden beads, teal and navy in color.

The craftsmanship is sublime.

“What are you doing?”

Azula gives a start and nearly drops the sword.

“Sorry.” Sokka whispers, holding his hands up. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Azula shakes her head.

“Is the bed not comfy?” He pauses. “No wait, I know! It’s too cold isn’t it?”

“That’s not it.” Azula replies. Though it is rather chilly for her liking.

“Then what is it?”

“Don’t worry about it.” She replies.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Nothing, nevermind. It’s foolish.” She cradles the sword back in place.

“So it was a nightmare then?” Sokka asks. “Zuko always gets really defensive and secretive about nightmares.”

“Zuko…” she tests the name, trying to coax any familiarity out of it. Still, the name remains as empty as her own.

“What happened in the nightmare?” Sokka persists.

She picks up another weapon and inspects it. This one is a spear with a stone head.

“Alright, I’ll leave you alone.”

“I died.” She puts the spear back in place.

The wind gives another howl at the house. She stares down at her feet with her hands clasped behind her back.

“I think I know how to make things better.” Sokka smiles.

Azula stares expectantly.

“It always comforts me.”

Azula quirks a brow.

“Follow me.” Sokka smiles. He tosses her a coat and a pair of mittens.

The firebender looks at the door. Reluctantly, she slips into the winter attire and lets Sokka lead her out into the snow. Instinctually, her stomach turns. In comparison to the last time she had stepped outside, it is more pleasant. It is quite peacefully so. Snow still falls but it is lighter. Kinder. A gentle little dusting that clings to her lashes and the fur on her hood.

Her breaths come out in small puffs. She watches an artic wolf-fox cross the snow in the distance. Despite the tranquility, she wants to go back inside. Even as abundantly bundled as she is, she still shivers.

“Why are we out here?”

.oOo.

Sokka’s heart sinks; she isn’t even giving him a chance. He should have known that the firebender would have no interest in the cold majesty of an arctic night. He marvels at twisting curtains of light, she hasn’t even noticed. In fact she seems only to stare at the ground, watching each and every step she takes or blankly at the snow gusting about in the tundra. Winds blow loose flakes into large banks, the wisps of wintery powder slither like snakes in the wind.

The sight is familiar and comforting as it is sinister and dangerous. He thinks that she can only ever know it as a sight to dread.

He considers asking her again, what she had dreamt of.

He comes to find that he has no need.

“I died in the cold.” She says.

Instinctually, as he would with his own sister, Sokka takes her hand. “You’re alive.” He laughs, “I can tell because you’re complaining.”

“In my dream, I mean.” Azula replies.

Sokka gives a resigned sigh, “is this your way of telling me that you want to go back inside?”

“It’s my way of telling you that you better have a good reason for bringing me back out here.” She folds her arms across her chest.

“Look up.” Sokka points.

.oOo.

Azula tilts her head. A quartzy dusting of stars glimmer in a deep blue sky. The glistening snow below creates a frigid and elegant ambience. And then she sees what Sokka is referring to. They are luminous curtains of vivid teals and electric greens with an occasional burst of rosy pink.

“I like to watch them. They never get old because they seem to look different every night.” Sokka says.

They shift and twirl in the air like pastel flames. Sometimes dipping low enough that Azula feels as though she can reach out and touch them. She holds a hand out, if only to humor herself, but only catches snow.

“They’re nice, right?” Sokka grins.

Azula shrugs, “they’re alright, I suppose.” They’d be better under different circumstances. The more she stares out into the vast tundra, the more that the unease begins to seep in. She half expects to see them stalking over the snow, ready to fight to take her back. She takes an unconscious step towards Sokka.

A particularly strong gust sends her into another round of vicious shivers.

As awestriking as the celestial colors overhead are, the icy breath on her cheeks pulls her attention elsewhere. Feeling it on her skin makes her fingers tingle, even the one that she no longer has…

Especially the one that she no longer has.

The queasiness doubles. She can feel the cold seeping into her bones, turning them to ice. Abruptly, she turns and begins a brisk and somewhat clumsy walk back to the house. Sokka, well accustomed to trekking through deep snow, catches up absurdly quickly.

“Sorry.” He mutters. “I thought that you’d like them.”

Azula pauses to look at the lights once more. “I do.” She admits. “But I also like the nine fingers that I still have.”

She doesn’t mention how unsettled the landscape--and its horrific weather--makes her feel.

How trapped.

How downright frightened.

.oOo.

Sokka laughs. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“You guess?” She whips around to face him. “How about this, I’ll amputate your finger and keep it for myself.” She carries on with her stubborn, awkward-gaited stride, leaving him to dwell on her empty threat.

“It didn’t change you much.”

Azula brings her strides to a halt once more. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re still you. Even if you don’t have your memories.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Sokka considers the question; it is almost like a reset in some way. She is more like her old self; less impulsive, more logically driven. Sharp-staring and rational. And yet this is her more dangerous temperament. It is the one that had allowed her to burn and singe he and his friends. That helped her overthrow Ba Sing Se. He considers that cold and calculated, piercing stare and then that later vicious, more wild gleam in her eyes as she lashed out at his sister and at her own brother. He decides that he does wish that her amnesia would have left her softer, more timid. “Let’s talk about this inside.”

Azula doesn’t protest this suggestion but she doesn’t drop the topic now that they are back in the warmth of his home. “You think that it’s a bad thing.” She says simply. “Why? Who am I?”

“I told you, I’ll tell you all about yourself on the boat ride home.”

“Home as in the Fire Nation in general or home as in, to my home specifically.”

“Your home.” He replies. “Your brother has been looking for you, believe it or not.”

“I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t.” Azula shrugs and finds herself a seat closest to the fireplace. She ignites the wood within.

Sokka cringes. “Yeah…”

The way she stares at the fire gives him the impression that she has picked up on his wince. He could really use some more time under the lights. Maybe he should leave her to the comfort of the fire and return to his own happy place.

“I shattered.” She speaks, leaving pause enough for Sokka to take in the crackle and pop of the fire. “In my nightmare my body froze and shattered.”

Sokka isn’t sure if he is supposed to fill the gap with a reply.

“I don’t like it out there, Sokka. It’s too cold and the only memory I have of it is that it almost killed me and then took my finger to ensure that I’d never forget.” She gives another pause. “Do you know what it is like when your clearest memory...your only memory is that.”

Sokka swallows. “That’s why I was trying to show you something pretty. It isn’t all harsh, it can be beautiful and kind.” He wonders if and hopes that the same can be said for the woman in front of him.

She peels off her mittens and stares at her palms. “I suppose that I appreciate the attempt. Even though it was a dreadful one.”

“Was it though?” He quirks a brow.

“Alright. Fine. Those lights were rather incredible.” Azula admits. He watches her stretch herself out on the sofa and bundle herself up. “Stay with me?” She asks.

“There’s only one sofa.”

“There’s plenty of floor.” She points out and gestures to a sleeping bag that is haphazardly laying on the ground.

“I can’t sleep on the floor.”

The firebender frowns before snatching her pillow and curling up on the sleeping bag.

“You can sleep on the floor?”

“No.” Azula replies. “But I...I won’t be able to sleep anyways, so you might as well keep me company.”

Sokka sighs. “You can keep the sofa.” Joking or not, he decides that he won’t give her a hard time about not wanting to sleep alone. “I said that you can…” but she is already asleep. He almost forgot that she is still running a fever. He lifts her back onto the sofa and curls up on the sleeping back, wondering how he always manages to get the short end of the stick.

He thinks that he is too sympathetic for his own good.

“Hey.” She mumbles. Apparently she isn’t a heavy sleeper. He almost feels bad for having woken her. Not that she won’t fall right back asleep.

“Yeah?”

“You’re taking me home tomorrow, right?”

“I’m taking you home as soon as you stop coughing and sniffling.”

She nods and rolls over, turning her back on him. As soon as he is certain that she is asleep, he wanders back outside--with a promise that he’ll be back inside before she can realize he’d left at all. He only wanders a little ways from the house before turning his face to the sky. Teal and green weave in and out of each other. He is going to miss them. But it will be nice to see Zuko and Aang again. And if he is lucky, Toph too.

He just hopes that they will handle Azula’s arrival well.

He looks out into the tundra, the dark and unforgiving openness. She’d made her way out of such a dismal place, he hopes that he can keep her in the light.

The auroras roll and shift.

#Avatar #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Fanfiction

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