Aang (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
actually112) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2018-04-18 04:18 pm
actually112) wrote in driftfleet2018-04-18 04:18 pm
Entry tags:
Action - Second Arena
Who: Aang and YOU
Broadcast: No
Action: Iskaulit
When: During the drift
[Aang has spent the last three weeks or so on 24/7 alert, hiding out in the desert and then hiding out in the trees and air ducts of the Iskaulit, waiting for some catastrophe that hasn't happened. It's driving him nuts. Is that what the Capitol is trying to do? Make him go crazy from paranoia?
Well, he knows the Capitol. He knows how to provoke them. If he does something really crazy, they'll retaliate, and at least he won't have to put up with this tension anymore. If there's no retaliation, then maybe, just maybe, the Capitol isn't as involved in this as he thinks.
He picks a lovely spot on the Iskaulit--out of the way, separate from the hustle and bustle of the most frequented areas, but still public and accessible. He carries out paint, rollers, brushes, and sets himself up like he's going to paint the walls.
Which is exactly what he does. He paints down a white undercoat in record time with the help of waterbending and airbending. Then he has a pencil, and he starts sketching out the bare bones of what he will paint. He blocks out the twelve different sections he wants to make, and then he starts writing.
He writes names. Name after name after name in each section, so many that Aang needs to balance on a ball of churning air to write them at the top of this planned mural. Each name is carefully, lovingly written, given the amount of respect and grace it deserves.
There are exactly 1,747 names. They are the names he memorized for his televised rebellion against the Capitol. They are the names of all of the Districter children who died in the Hunger Games.
Aang is tense as he writes, constantly aware of who is around him and what might happen, but his expression is stern and his mouth is fixed in grim determination. Come at him, Capitol.]
[OOC: Since The Games had lots of people AU'd in from other canons, feel free to assume that a name from your canon is up there if you like.]
Broadcast: No
Action: Iskaulit
When: During the drift
[Aang has spent the last three weeks or so on 24/7 alert, hiding out in the desert and then hiding out in the trees and air ducts of the Iskaulit, waiting for some catastrophe that hasn't happened. It's driving him nuts. Is that what the Capitol is trying to do? Make him go crazy from paranoia?
Well, he knows the Capitol. He knows how to provoke them. If he does something really crazy, they'll retaliate, and at least he won't have to put up with this tension anymore. If there's no retaliation, then maybe, just maybe, the Capitol isn't as involved in this as he thinks.
He picks a lovely spot on the Iskaulit--out of the way, separate from the hustle and bustle of the most frequented areas, but still public and accessible. He carries out paint, rollers, brushes, and sets himself up like he's going to paint the walls.
Which is exactly what he does. He paints down a white undercoat in record time with the help of waterbending and airbending. Then he has a pencil, and he starts sketching out the bare bones of what he will paint. He blocks out the twelve different sections he wants to make, and then he starts writing.
He writes names. Name after name after name in each section, so many that Aang needs to balance on a ball of churning air to write them at the top of this planned mural. Each name is carefully, lovingly written, given the amount of respect and grace it deserves.
There are exactly 1,747 names. They are the names he memorized for his televised rebellion against the Capitol. They are the names of all of the Districter children who died in the Hunger Games.
Aang is tense as he writes, constantly aware of who is around him and what might happen, but his expression is stern and his mouth is fixed in grim determination. Come at him, Capitol.]
[OOC: Since The Games had lots of people AU'd in from other canons, feel free to assume that a name from your canon is up there if you like.]
no subject
[He's still quiet, still in awe as he steps closer to read over everything. His eyes catch on names he knows better than the rest, the ones from his own arena. He forced himself to rewatch and to dig through files until he remembered even the ones he'd never talked to or hadn't even killed himself, but that number was fewer than the ones in the opposite category. He'd killed twelve.
His eyes and thoughts froze as he found her name, the girl from District 10. Megan. Fifteen. He'd tried so hard to protect her, he'd grown up knowing her and her parents and her siblings and he couldn't kill her, not even for how strongly he refused to accept defeat. Maybe he should have, maybe it should have been a friend instead of- her throat slit, face bloated and distorted from being left face-down in one of the water-filled holes. He'd only been gone for a few hours. Gone hunting. Hunting other children. He should have stayed-]
She liked daisies. She'd put them in her hair in the summer. She had a way with horses that rivaled anyone else in the district. You should have heard her laugh- [He smiled to himself.] It..it was horrible. She did this snort thing.
no subject
Of course he had paid closer attention to the Hunger Games of the people he knew. It was worth it to know who was capable of what. Sometimes he wishes he didn't really know.
But he tries not to judge people based on what they did in the arenas, and he tries to not judge Bucky now. He was forced through terrible things just like Aang was, and he'll always hurt because of it.]
I wish I could've known her. I get along with anyone who's good with animals. [Despite the pain of the moment, Aang still manages a smile at the thought of a snorting girl with flowers in her hair.]
You know, if I don't die before all the names are down, I was thinking of trying to make something nice for all the separate Districts. You know, like making the sections look like the Districts and include silhouettes of Victors I know were rebels or stuff like that. [Aang rolls his pencil between his hands, an unconscious nervous gesture.] Except... I never really saw any of the other Districts. Just what you see in the footage of the Reapings, and what I heard from the letters we got from the District kids in school. I was thinking maybe you could help. If you wanted, that is.
no subject
I can't...I'm no artist. [He gave a wry smirk.] I can draw circles and x's and lines for a battle map, but that's the best of it. But I can tell you what I know. Who I know, if needed. Whatever you want.
[He finally looked to from the wall to Aang, perfectly serious.]
And if someone here does try to do something to you for this, they'll have to go through me first.
[Bucky didn't think anyone would, but he knew he had the advantage of having seen what he could only tell and not prove to Aang. But, despite what he might like to think, he wasn't always right. If there was something else going on here, something that would take umbrage with their art project, Bucky would fight it tooth and nail for any chance at keeping up something that pissed Them off.]
no subject
[He has suspicions. Peggy, while somewhat frightening in Aang's book, did disappear at an opportune time with Linden and suddenly the entire media hated her after loving her a day ago. Tony and Bucky himself, of course. Signless. There are more, but he's wary of naming anyone he knows to be alive and still in the Capitol's reach.
Aang softens at Bucky's declaration. It reminds him a little of his Bucky.]
Thank you.