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The Trials of Shiiru [Semi-Open] - Printable Version

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The Trials of Shiiru [Semi-Open] - megs - 08-01-2016

[Image: SmLElhL.jpg]
An Avatar Themed RP by Megs and Tisper
Visit the OOC thread for details



RE: The Trials of Shiiru [Semi-Open] - megs - 08-01-2016

Natsumi did not like parties. That was not to say, that she was not proficient at parties. Mingling was easy enough. She could smile, a brief show of imperfect rows of teeth, and she could make small talk. It wasn’t difficult to comment on the weather, or the affairs of state. She had grown up with parties, and thought she had joined the military to escape. If she had known political appearances were part of her new promotion, she would have remained a foot solider.

The captain sipped her beverage. It was something earthy and alcoholic that she wasn’t old enough to have, but was given to her anyway. She shouldn’t have been so accustomed to the burn of it, but she’d spent too much time in the company of the infantry.

A birthday party for the Avatar. Frivolous pomp and circumstance in her opinion, but unavoidable. Observant eyes flicked across the room. A sea of faces she didn’t recognize, a dangerous convergence of bodies, too many factors unaccounted for.

The position of the Avatar had downgraded over the decades. Nothing but a figurehead with nothing to protect the world from. Assassination attempts were scattered and misguided, she was safe enough, despite the crowds.

Sighing, she used her free hand to tug at the ends of her jacket. Her usual dress reds decorated with medals and draping banners of fabric. Natsumi hated it, but hid it well behind casual conversation. Answering prying questions about her parents and her personal life (not that she had one). She would rather answer questions about her forces, but no one was asking. Looking up at the general towering next to her, she wondered why she was invited to go with him to the party.

“Where is the Avatar?” Natsumi asked, tilting her chin towards the General and relinquishing her glass to a passing waiter. He was and old and graying man, who was better at giving orders than he was carrying them out. She could tolerate him, but she did not like him.

It was safe to say that Natsumi did not like many things.

“I hear she will make an appearance later,” he replied, without looking at her.

“You hear?” she repeated, for clarification. “That she will make an appearance later?” Her brow furrow, mouth pressing into a thin line. Her displeasure was obvious, but the general carried on regardless.

“It’s not uncommon,” he explained.

“It’s her party,” the Captain argued.

“It’s a show,” he corrected her. With a heavy index finger, he pointed around the room. “The Avatar has an image to uphold, the same as anyone else in power. Her life is public, why not be decadent about it.”

Natsumi made a face. “The Avatar has no power,” she complained, nostrils flaring.

“You’d be surprised,” he chided, plucking two cups from a passing tray and pushing one into her empty hands. “Just try to enjoy yourself, and save all the judgement for when you actually meet her.”

“Meet her?”

“Why do you think you are here,” he asked, as if it explained everything.

Natsumi’s fingers tightened around her cup and she stared down into the amber liquid to hid her livid expression. It was becoming clear that the nature of her visit had not been laid out for her. The reason for the medals and the finery. Why did the Fire Nation have someone from the military positioned to meet the Avatar?

And why did it have to be her?