Aᴍᴏɴ ♒ Nᴏᴀᴛᴀᴋ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amonfire) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2012-10-18 12:17 pm
amonfire) wrote in tushanshu_logs2012-10-18 12:17 pm
What we lost along the way.
Characters: Amon Noatak and Tarrlok
Date: After the fire.
Location: Fire Sector
Situation: Amon gives up trying to stalk Councilman Tarrlok as the situation in Keeliai escalates, and finally drops the act to look for his brother.
Warnings/Rating: Discussions of child abuse, other uncomfortable topics, and the potential of violence.
[ Noatak defined himself by the experiences that created Amon until every bad memory and worse mistake bled together into one grey smear that hung over him like a storm cloud. An inescapable series of interwoven moments that were permanently burned into him unlike the scars he fabricated. Eidetic memory was a curse that stung most on the days you were left alone with nothing but your memories to sit beside you.
Noatak was fourteen explaining away the split lip his father gave him as a 'hunting accident' to his mother; he was still a teenager and standing in the storm that he blindly ran into, lost and afraid; he was forty and running away all over again, still just as lost and afraid. He was forty, and maybe still Noatak, running over the anonymous message he sent through a café console with a sick, heavy feeling in his gut that this another mistake he was making.
Maybe it was too poetic, or perhaps even too blunt. He sent that message to Tarrlok awhile ago, still unsure if whether or not was wasting his time sitting out by the mentioned fire gardens. His brother's recent activities did nothing to imply he remembered the penultimate events leading up to their shared fall. He still had his bending, for one. There was no way of telling if he made the connection and figured out that Amon and Noatak were two sides of the same coin. All Noatak could do was sit, and wait. ]
Date: After the fire.
Location: Fire Sector
Situation: Amon gives up trying to stalk Councilman Tarrlok as the situation in Keeliai escalates, and finally drops the act to look for his brother.
Warnings/Rating: Discussions of child abuse, other uncomfortable topics, and the potential of violence.
[ Noatak defined himself by the experiences that created Amon until every bad memory and worse mistake bled together into one grey smear that hung over him like a storm cloud. An inescapable series of interwoven moments that were permanently burned into him unlike the scars he fabricated. Eidetic memory was a curse that stung most on the days you were left alone with nothing but your memories to sit beside you.
Noatak was fourteen explaining away the split lip his father gave him as a 'hunting accident' to his mother; he was still a teenager and standing in the storm that he blindly ran into, lost and afraid; he was forty and running away all over again, still just as lost and afraid. He was forty, and maybe still Noatak, running over the anonymous message he sent through a café console with a sick, heavy feeling in his gut that this another mistake he was making.
Come to the fire gardens outside F1-3B if you want news of Amon's demise.
Maybe it was too poetic, or perhaps even too blunt. He sent that message to Tarrlok awhile ago, still unsure if whether or not was wasting his time sitting out by the mentioned fire gardens. His brother's recent activities did nothing to imply he remembered the penultimate events leading up to their shared fall. He still had his bending, for one. There was no way of telling if he made the connection and figured out that Amon and Noatak were two sides of the same coin. All Noatak could do was sit, and wait. ]
no subject
[Something like save Republic City no matter what the cost. Because if he couldn't be the city's savior he'd just be nothing but Yakone's rejected son.]
no subject
[ Noatak consciously didn't specify -- what did they want? To be the hero and saviour of the city? Or what is all more basic than that, and they just wanted to carve out a new, more accepted identity to forget the ones they shucked off so far out North. Acceptance and joy were far reaching, rarely attained goals in all honesty.
With some embarrassment he realized that he hand still hovered on his brother's arm, and he quietly retracted from him. ]
I should...I should go. You have the public to warn; I'll keep my head down for while. Not the first time I needed to.
no subject
[There's something he wants to say. Something just on the tip of his tongue. Something he's been wanting to say for the last twenty-six years, perhaps, something he regretted not saying the last time he saw his brother.
But he can't. No words come out.]
Yes. Just lay low for now. I'll see how it plays out.