Breaking Point
May 19, 2018 12:19:17 GMT -5
Post by Zula on May 19, 2018 12:19:17 GMT -5
The moment she stepped off the Fire Nation ship and into Republic City, Zula became the best ambassador she’d ever been, and the best the Fire Nation had to offer.
She rescheduled every meeting she’d called off and added more the mix, asking to meet with political figures and others who she originally saw no need in speaking with and hearing what they had to say. Every dinner, every social event, every place that she could possibly be invited, Zula accepted and made a point to show, arriving on time and staying until she had no choice but to leave. When she wasn’t surrounded by these important figures, she holed herself up at her desk, going over paperwork and exchanging reports with her own important people back home. There was not one moment that Zula wasn’t working, there wasn’t a single time she allowed herself to do anything but focus on her career.
It was the one thing holding her together, the one thing she was determined not to fail. Not only that, but she was set on getting what she wanted. It was a lesson that her mother had taught her, and while Zula was grateful for at least that, she was certain Feena never expected her daughter to take that and use it against her. Zula didn’t expect it either, but through her connections and the success of every meeting and the arrangements she made, she found it in her power to request that she be the ambassador specifically for Republic City to the Fire Nation. There was proof everywhere that she excelled in her communications with them, and like Zula had hoped, she was granted the position in no time.
The assignment cut the cord that kept trying to tug Zula back home, and it brought her a small sense of relief. Letters from her mother were frequent, and an occurrence that just turned into a nuisance for her. At first she skimmed them, and they were always full of what she knew Feena would do: demand Zula return home at once. It was no longer a suggestion, no longer something her mother was trying to tell her she should do. No, Feena had lost control of her, and now she was trying to get it back. When Zula realized the pattern that filled each and every letter, she stopped reading them altogether and tossed them into the bottom drawer of her desk whenever they arrived.
Whether Feena approved or not, Zula had no intention of returning to a place where she’d been lied to her entire life, at least not for a long time. She had established herself in Republic City, and she was lucky to have a good excuse for staying. Once her position was finalized, Zula set herself up in a permanent home, not far from her sister’s old penthouse. Zula had briefly entertained the thought of trying to go and see Zuka’s place, maybe she’d be able to get inside, but she’d thrown the idea away as the pain of it became too much for her to bear.
No, working filled in the gaps that Zuka had left, it masked the sorrow, it hid the betrayal and anger she felt towards her mother. Zula held herself together by this one thread while the rest unwound, the pieces of herself and her past she thought she knew so well turning to dust as the facade fell. But she still grasped onto what she could, pretended that every hardship wasn’t happening. As her work progressed, as she allowed herself to simply be the face of the Fire Nation, it was easier to act blind to the rest of her shattered life.
Of course, this distraction had its limit. Eventually she ran out of places to be. The dinner invites became more spaced out and set for only important dates, and there was no longer a need for meetings in the immediate future. Zula found herself reduced to minimal appearances until they were finished, and then staring at the paperwork on her desk that needed only her signature. The speed and vigor she’d put into her job came to a halt, and Zula found that she did not have a next task in the coming hours to attend to, she did not have somewhere to be where she had to do her best to be a proper, high class noble. It would be months before the next big event, and even longer before she had to speak to anyone important to the Fire Nation.
Nothing was relying on her, and she found her razor sharp focus on being an ambassador disappear. Now she had stopped in her tracks, now she had no choice but to take in the world around her, look at the mess of her life. She had the chance to catch her breath, which she had not done since she fled the house, trying to get out of the Fire Nation before Feena knew she had gone and tried to put a stop to her plans. But above all of that, Zula finally found it impossible to ignore what had all fallen to shambles. She had the chance to breathe, to take everything in, but she also had the chance to think.
And just like that, the final thread snapped.
She wasn’t sure how it had all happened, really. One night she’d decided she couldn’t take the walls of her home anymore and had gone out for a walk, and before she realized it her feet had led her towards the sounds of rough and slurred voices and a place that radiated darkness and violence. Zula once would have turned her nose to such a place, but instead she found herself entering, pushing open the door and walking straight up to the bar. She could feel the stares and the atmosphere quieting as she sat down; she stood out from these people horribly, but Zula didn’t really care. She felt outside her body, outside her mind as she ordered one glass, and then another, drinking them both down until she felt the heat rise in her and her head lighten.
She never had been much of a drinker, but then again she’d never felt this lost either.
Lost. That seemed to be the best way to describe it. Another sip came, and Zula embraced it, even as someone thought it would be a good idea to throw themselves down in the seat next to her. She could smell the alcohol that radiated off of him, as well as the scent of something she couldn’t quite place. He smirked at her, and she could sense his eyes raking over her body, from her expensive clothing to what he was probably trying to imagine was underneath. “I thought the Jade Girls were the most attractive in the city, but maybe that statement was wrong. What brings someone like you around here?”
Zula chose to ignore him, swirling the contents of her glass before sipping it again. This caused him to lean closer, his hand sliding along the bar top as it inched closer to hers. “Now don’t be rude. When someone asks you a question, you’re supposed to answer.”
Again she chose to say nothing and finished off the drink. She set the glass down, stared at it while she contemplated another, and if that was such a good idea considering she was going to have to get herself home. Her silence only seemed to further agitate the man next to her, and he reached his hand out as if he intended to take a hold of her. “Hey, don’t you know who owns the Boiling Rock--”
Zula’s hand flew out and caught a hold of his wrist and she slammed it down hard on the bar top, turning her head to give him a hard stare, her expression otherwise blank. “Refrain from trying to touch me again, or I will break these bones and some others.”
The man looked her up and down, half in shock, and then started to laugh. Zula had had enough, and as much as she wanted to continue to drown her mind, that obviously wasn’t going to happen. She stepped off the bar stool and made her way out the door, glad that she hadn’t gotten to the point of stumbling--tonight, at least. She was making her way down the street, surprised she’d actually walked as far as she had, when a yell caught her attention, and Zula found herself following after the sound.
It led her to an alley where a group of gang members had cornered a man, and knocked him to the ground. A woman, his girlfriend or wife, was pressed up against the wall, her face the picture of fear as the men laughed. Zula stood there, looking between the group and the couple, and then she was moving forwards before she could consider just what she was doing. “That’s enough.”
They turned to her, and Zula recognized them as some of the Kais. Of course, this was their territory after all, and Zula had not been considering that when she’d wandered into it. She’d been so lost in her head she hadn’t considered a lot of things, like how she just turned the attention of five triad thugs on herself. The woman pulled the man two his feet, and then quickly ran while their attackers were occupied. Zula wasn’t sure if she felt happy about managing that or just stupid.
“Oh look, it’s the ambassador,” one of the men sneered. “What are you doing here, little priss? You have no authority in this place.”
“And you have no right to be attacking innocent people,” Zula replied, her eyes narrowed.
The group laughed, and a second man stepped up, this one had a scar running along the length of the right side of his face. “For someone with such a fancy position, you really don’t know anything about this city. Come on, little girl. You don’t belong in a place like this. Run home to your rich little safety net and let the boys play.”
It shouldn’t have struck her the way it did, but Zula took the offense straight to the heart. She was tired of home that had deceived her for so long, she was tired of having the curtain pulled over her eyes, tired of being blind and deaf to reality. All she was to the triads was a joke, and they were the ones that really seemed to run this city. Feena had shielded her, made her think that she was actually making a difference and that she was above everything else. But here she was, half drunk and with anger singing in her veins.
She didn’t know what she expected, when her whole childhood had been a lie anyway.
“Why not show her the truth?” The first man who had spoken said, his gaze on her with a dark grin. “She did ruin our fun. Let’s give this little girl a lesson.”
They ran at her faster than Zula expected, but thankfully her training allowed her to move out of the way of their first barrage of attacks. Zula spun on her heel and faced them, and launched her own fiery attacks, large plumes of flame bursting from her fists. She leapt up and kicked, sending an arc of fire that forced them to back away. Despite this one ducked under the attack and got too close, and suddenly Zula found herself in hand to hand combat with the Kai until she managed to knock him aside.
Too late did she realize, however, that what she considered foul play and dishonorable in a fight were not shared beliefs by her attackers. One of the Kais came from behind, knocking her onto her hands and knees and forcing her to have to roll out of the way. The layers that she wore were not suited for fighting, and they tore as she fought against their restraints, struggling to her feet as she was forced to dive out of the way of a flaming fist too close to her face. Zula attempted to kick out, but the fabric tangled around her ankles and the kick only landed in the Kai’s chest instead of his jaw like she’d been intending.
Another was on her in seconds, and Zula ducked under the flames before unleashing her own in quick succession, forcing the Kais backwards. She took good aim at another one when she was in range of another and knocked him out cold as well, but the victory was short lived. One caught her by the hair, the next unleashed a hard kick that sent her flying onto her back. Then she was being forced against the wall, her head spinning and the heat of flames being held up to her face. He grinned at her, his hand closing around her throat as he pinned her right where he wanted her.
“Ah, don’t kill her,” the man with the scar said. “We don’t want to have to explain that one. It’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
He stared at Zula for a long moment, and she could see her reflection in his eyes: her schooled features unwilling to show if she feared him or not. Truly, all Zula felt was frustration that she, a master firebender, had just been bested by street thugs who had no code of honor. Finally he relented, releasing her and stepping back, Zula stumbling forwards and nearly tripping over the shredded clothing that twisted around her legs.
They simply laughed at her, and the one who had her pinned just shook his head, “You’re not made for this city. Go back to where you came from, before it eats you alive.”
Zula watched as they pulled the men she’d managed to beat to their feet, and they shot her looks of anger mixed with mockery as they disappeared into the shadows. And Zula stood there, listening to her breathing alone in the alley, almost wishing they hadn’t had mercy on her. It would have been less painful than the shame that burned in her now, hotter than fire.
“You’re not made for this city.” It echoed in her head, and it made her feel sicker than ever. If she did not belong at home, and she did not have a place here, then Zula had absolutely nothing. But even if that was true, she would not make the same mistake she made this night again.
She knew how to fight.
Now she needed to learn how to fight dirty.
She rescheduled every meeting she’d called off and added more the mix, asking to meet with political figures and others who she originally saw no need in speaking with and hearing what they had to say. Every dinner, every social event, every place that she could possibly be invited, Zula accepted and made a point to show, arriving on time and staying until she had no choice but to leave. When she wasn’t surrounded by these important figures, she holed herself up at her desk, going over paperwork and exchanging reports with her own important people back home. There was not one moment that Zula wasn’t working, there wasn’t a single time she allowed herself to do anything but focus on her career.
It was the one thing holding her together, the one thing she was determined not to fail. Not only that, but she was set on getting what she wanted. It was a lesson that her mother had taught her, and while Zula was grateful for at least that, she was certain Feena never expected her daughter to take that and use it against her. Zula didn’t expect it either, but through her connections and the success of every meeting and the arrangements she made, she found it in her power to request that she be the ambassador specifically for Republic City to the Fire Nation. There was proof everywhere that she excelled in her communications with them, and like Zula had hoped, she was granted the position in no time.
The assignment cut the cord that kept trying to tug Zula back home, and it brought her a small sense of relief. Letters from her mother were frequent, and an occurrence that just turned into a nuisance for her. At first she skimmed them, and they were always full of what she knew Feena would do: demand Zula return home at once. It was no longer a suggestion, no longer something her mother was trying to tell her she should do. No, Feena had lost control of her, and now she was trying to get it back. When Zula realized the pattern that filled each and every letter, she stopped reading them altogether and tossed them into the bottom drawer of her desk whenever they arrived.
Whether Feena approved or not, Zula had no intention of returning to a place where she’d been lied to her entire life, at least not for a long time. She had established herself in Republic City, and she was lucky to have a good excuse for staying. Once her position was finalized, Zula set herself up in a permanent home, not far from her sister’s old penthouse. Zula had briefly entertained the thought of trying to go and see Zuka’s place, maybe she’d be able to get inside, but she’d thrown the idea away as the pain of it became too much for her to bear.
No, working filled in the gaps that Zuka had left, it masked the sorrow, it hid the betrayal and anger she felt towards her mother. Zula held herself together by this one thread while the rest unwound, the pieces of herself and her past she thought she knew so well turning to dust as the facade fell. But she still grasped onto what she could, pretended that every hardship wasn’t happening. As her work progressed, as she allowed herself to simply be the face of the Fire Nation, it was easier to act blind to the rest of her shattered life.
Of course, this distraction had its limit. Eventually she ran out of places to be. The dinner invites became more spaced out and set for only important dates, and there was no longer a need for meetings in the immediate future. Zula found herself reduced to minimal appearances until they were finished, and then staring at the paperwork on her desk that needed only her signature. The speed and vigor she’d put into her job came to a halt, and Zula found that she did not have a next task in the coming hours to attend to, she did not have somewhere to be where she had to do her best to be a proper, high class noble. It would be months before the next big event, and even longer before she had to speak to anyone important to the Fire Nation.
Nothing was relying on her, and she found her razor sharp focus on being an ambassador disappear. Now she had stopped in her tracks, now she had no choice but to take in the world around her, look at the mess of her life. She had the chance to catch her breath, which she had not done since she fled the house, trying to get out of the Fire Nation before Feena knew she had gone and tried to put a stop to her plans. But above all of that, Zula finally found it impossible to ignore what had all fallen to shambles. She had the chance to breathe, to take everything in, but she also had the chance to think.
And just like that, the final thread snapped.
She wasn’t sure how it had all happened, really. One night she’d decided she couldn’t take the walls of her home anymore and had gone out for a walk, and before she realized it her feet had led her towards the sounds of rough and slurred voices and a place that radiated darkness and violence. Zula once would have turned her nose to such a place, but instead she found herself entering, pushing open the door and walking straight up to the bar. She could feel the stares and the atmosphere quieting as she sat down; she stood out from these people horribly, but Zula didn’t really care. She felt outside her body, outside her mind as she ordered one glass, and then another, drinking them both down until she felt the heat rise in her and her head lighten.
She never had been much of a drinker, but then again she’d never felt this lost either.
Lost. That seemed to be the best way to describe it. Another sip came, and Zula embraced it, even as someone thought it would be a good idea to throw themselves down in the seat next to her. She could smell the alcohol that radiated off of him, as well as the scent of something she couldn’t quite place. He smirked at her, and she could sense his eyes raking over her body, from her expensive clothing to what he was probably trying to imagine was underneath. “I thought the Jade Girls were the most attractive in the city, but maybe that statement was wrong. What brings someone like you around here?”
Zula chose to ignore him, swirling the contents of her glass before sipping it again. This caused him to lean closer, his hand sliding along the bar top as it inched closer to hers. “Now don’t be rude. When someone asks you a question, you’re supposed to answer.”
Again she chose to say nothing and finished off the drink. She set the glass down, stared at it while she contemplated another, and if that was such a good idea considering she was going to have to get herself home. Her silence only seemed to further agitate the man next to her, and he reached his hand out as if he intended to take a hold of her. “Hey, don’t you know who owns the Boiling Rock--”
Zula’s hand flew out and caught a hold of his wrist and she slammed it down hard on the bar top, turning her head to give him a hard stare, her expression otherwise blank. “Refrain from trying to touch me again, or I will break these bones and some others.”
The man looked her up and down, half in shock, and then started to laugh. Zula had had enough, and as much as she wanted to continue to drown her mind, that obviously wasn’t going to happen. She stepped off the bar stool and made her way out the door, glad that she hadn’t gotten to the point of stumbling--tonight, at least. She was making her way down the street, surprised she’d actually walked as far as she had, when a yell caught her attention, and Zula found herself following after the sound.
It led her to an alley where a group of gang members had cornered a man, and knocked him to the ground. A woman, his girlfriend or wife, was pressed up against the wall, her face the picture of fear as the men laughed. Zula stood there, looking between the group and the couple, and then she was moving forwards before she could consider just what she was doing. “That’s enough.”
They turned to her, and Zula recognized them as some of the Kais. Of course, this was their territory after all, and Zula had not been considering that when she’d wandered into it. She’d been so lost in her head she hadn’t considered a lot of things, like how she just turned the attention of five triad thugs on herself. The woman pulled the man two his feet, and then quickly ran while their attackers were occupied. Zula wasn’t sure if she felt happy about managing that or just stupid.
“Oh look, it’s the ambassador,” one of the men sneered. “What are you doing here, little priss? You have no authority in this place.”
“And you have no right to be attacking innocent people,” Zula replied, her eyes narrowed.
The group laughed, and a second man stepped up, this one had a scar running along the length of the right side of his face. “For someone with such a fancy position, you really don’t know anything about this city. Come on, little girl. You don’t belong in a place like this. Run home to your rich little safety net and let the boys play.”
It shouldn’t have struck her the way it did, but Zula took the offense straight to the heart. She was tired of home that had deceived her for so long, she was tired of having the curtain pulled over her eyes, tired of being blind and deaf to reality. All she was to the triads was a joke, and they were the ones that really seemed to run this city. Feena had shielded her, made her think that she was actually making a difference and that she was above everything else. But here she was, half drunk and with anger singing in her veins.
She didn’t know what she expected, when her whole childhood had been a lie anyway.
“Why not show her the truth?” The first man who had spoken said, his gaze on her with a dark grin. “She did ruin our fun. Let’s give this little girl a lesson.”
They ran at her faster than Zula expected, but thankfully her training allowed her to move out of the way of their first barrage of attacks. Zula spun on her heel and faced them, and launched her own fiery attacks, large plumes of flame bursting from her fists. She leapt up and kicked, sending an arc of fire that forced them to back away. Despite this one ducked under the attack and got too close, and suddenly Zula found herself in hand to hand combat with the Kai until she managed to knock him aside.
Too late did she realize, however, that what she considered foul play and dishonorable in a fight were not shared beliefs by her attackers. One of the Kais came from behind, knocking her onto her hands and knees and forcing her to have to roll out of the way. The layers that she wore were not suited for fighting, and they tore as she fought against their restraints, struggling to her feet as she was forced to dive out of the way of a flaming fist too close to her face. Zula attempted to kick out, but the fabric tangled around her ankles and the kick only landed in the Kai’s chest instead of his jaw like she’d been intending.
Another was on her in seconds, and Zula ducked under the flames before unleashing her own in quick succession, forcing the Kais backwards. She took good aim at another one when she was in range of another and knocked him out cold as well, but the victory was short lived. One caught her by the hair, the next unleashed a hard kick that sent her flying onto her back. Then she was being forced against the wall, her head spinning and the heat of flames being held up to her face. He grinned at her, his hand closing around her throat as he pinned her right where he wanted her.
“Ah, don’t kill her,” the man with the scar said. “We don’t want to have to explain that one. It’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
He stared at Zula for a long moment, and she could see her reflection in his eyes: her schooled features unwilling to show if she feared him or not. Truly, all Zula felt was frustration that she, a master firebender, had just been bested by street thugs who had no code of honor. Finally he relented, releasing her and stepping back, Zula stumbling forwards and nearly tripping over the shredded clothing that twisted around her legs.
They simply laughed at her, and the one who had her pinned just shook his head, “You’re not made for this city. Go back to where you came from, before it eats you alive.”
Zula watched as they pulled the men she’d managed to beat to their feet, and they shot her looks of anger mixed with mockery as they disappeared into the shadows. And Zula stood there, listening to her breathing alone in the alley, almost wishing they hadn’t had mercy on her. It would have been less painful than the shame that burned in her now, hotter than fire.
“You’re not made for this city.” It echoed in her head, and it made her feel sicker than ever. If she did not belong at home, and she did not have a place here, then Zula had absolutely nothing. But even if that was true, she would not make the same mistake she made this night again.
She knew how to fight.
Now she needed to learn how to fight dirty.