And now for something completely different

[resonance_and_d]

So I've been working on this fic, with the premise that it was much more than 100 years between the time Aang was frozen and the time Katara and Sokka found him. So we have the same characters, and there's still bending, but the level of technology is at the level of present-day Earth.

And... I was doing it because I was procrastinating on my other stuff, but now it's 12000 words long and I think I'd better start posting it or I'll start losing momentum.

BUT: It is written in totally random snippets, which are not in chronological order. I'm talking 25 separate drabbles or oneshots so far. I don't think I want to post them together, but posting them all separately would result in massive spamming.

Thus... I am going to follow the format of some memes I've seen, and put the drabble-length snippets in the comments of this post. Then I'll make another post where I figure out what order everything should go in and archive it.

Confused? So am I. But I'm going to try it anyway.

Comments

Freedom 2/2

[resonance-and-d.livejournal.com]

She didn't see the other prisoners. She was glad of that. She wasn't sure what she would do, if she had. Warn them? Tell them the awful things that were going to happen to them, when Ozai next came? She wasn't sure she had the heart to warn them, but the alternative was just as bad.

Breath in. Breathe out. Let the bad thoughts go, because they weren't helping.

It was better that she never saw them, even if it was a little lonely without anyone but the guards to talk to. That way she didn't have to make that decision.

The time alone gave her time to practice her gymnastics. She hadn't been able to practice as much as she liked while she was helping Azula. There had been too much time spent on airplanes and cramped into train cars, and not enough to stretch out. And when she was in the house with Ozai, she could always feel his eyes on her, disapproving. He hadn't liked her doing gymnastics, because the point of it wasn't to fight. He'd thought it was stupid. It hadn't stopped her from practicing, but it had sapped the fun out of it.

Well, she was free to practice as much as she wanted, now. There was time for stretching and back walkovers and handsprings, and anything else she could think to do. The room was a little small, but she'd pushed the bed into the corner (half into the closet, really) and if she was careful, she could do enough to keep herself occupied.

She missed the bars and the beam. Ground routines were fun, but she'd always had the most fun in the air. The best moments were the ones when you let go of the bar and it was just you, rushing through thin air with only quick movements and a steady head to keep you from crashing into the ground.

She didn't have the bars. So she worked on floor routines.

It was a nice day today. Unseasonably warm, though the sunshine wasn't burning off the thin layer of snow very quickly. She had the window open, and a gentle breeze was blowing past the bars, tugging playfully at her clothes and ruffling the pages of the book on her bed. The wind carried voices with it- laughter, and quiet talking- too quiet to make out the words.

She started. Arms down, kick one leg up and then the other- and hold. It didn't take long for her the blood to rush to her head uncomfortably, but she held the handstand for a while longer before kicking her legs all the way over and bringing her body up into a bridge.

Everything had to be slow, when she was in this room. She didn't want to go fast and hit a wall. In a way, slow was harder. It took muscle to hold each different position for more than a moment. But it was welcome exercise.

Several more positions, and then she stopped, arms tired. She really was out of practice.

She let herself fall to the ground, gently, and let out a puff of air as she collapsed.

The ceiling fan moved slightly.

Ty Lee stared for a moment, until the slight motion stopped. Then, not quite believing she was entertaining the thought, she inhaled, and let out another puff of air.

The fan moved again.

“Oh,” she said.

Suddenly her complete failure at firebending made a lot more sense.