Ahren1
Fear of a Blank Planet
- Joined
- Apr 25, 2007
- Posts
- 1,786
The Painting Wanderer had nearly finished his work when the sun had almost completely set. Late evening was upon Kyoshi Island, but a lot of businesses still buzzed with people and kids even still played around the statue. Ever since the war ended, people had been more confident about staying outside even at late hours. The air began to chill a bit due to the lack of sun, but in a still refreshing manner. The young man then returned his painting utensils to his bag and sat silently, placing his fists together in an Airbender meditation state. It was something else he learned from his mother in order to keep the Chakra flow inside his body clear. Though this peaceful meditation was cut short due to a sudden growling noise. Glancing down, the golden eyed painter recognized this familiar sound. Slipping his hand into a belt pouch, he was greeted by a very faint chiming of moving coins, however when he removed them, he noticed they were only mostly copper pieces and a few silver. It would be another night with a very basic meal. He had to conserve or else he would run out of funds before he reached the Avatar.
As he reached town, he glanced between the various shops and corner vendors, smelling some rather compelling scents of dinner. As he continued down the main path, a particular vendor caught his eye, or what she was selling rather. Upon the wooden display rested various precisely carved figurines of familiar figures. Kyoshi, Roku, Aang and to his surprise, even Fire Lord Zuko. The young man grasped the figurine of Zuko and inspected the fine craftsmanship. The Painter had a lot of respect for his Lord, and the stern yet strangely vulnerable expression that the figure carried reminded him of when he performed for Zuko himself. His brother had performed first, and did so expertly. What he young man didn't know was his mischievous and competitive sibling had set up an invisible wire to trip him during his own performance. Sure enough, it worked, however he didn't stop, and he finished despite his mistake. While his father was angered that one of his sons would be so careless in front of the Fire Lord, Zuko personally approached the boy and told him about how he had done the same once. Zuko respected the young warrior's will to continue even though it was difficult, and it reminded him of himself.
Such words had stuck with him during this journey. It had been increasingly difficult hiding from people, shrouding his identity, but he had to keep going for the good of his Nation and for his own honor. He owed a lot to Zuko's inspiration. He could not let him down now. It had been about a minute since he picked up the figure, but he had become lost in the memories, therefore the passage of time seemed irrelevant. Finally, he was brought back to reality by the sound of a kind voice.
"You like that one? I can see you have similar eyes as he does..." An older woman spoke out. It was the stand owner. The man in the straw hat lowered his chin slightly to hide his eyes. He had been foolish, staring so fondly at something pertaining to his home. Anyone sharp enough would have known he was Fire Nation. However the woman didn't seem to, or if she did, she didn't seem to care.
"Oh, I'm just appreciating the work... It's exceptional..." He finally spoke out in a somewhat distant voice. The woman smiled as he placed it back down. He turned away to continue walking when a large, muscled man with a beard rushed up to the figure stand.
"Only sympathizers of the Fire Nation would keep junk like that!" The man growled, banging his fist on the stand, causing many of the figures to topple over. The Painter stopped, turning back to where he had just been standing, taking notice of the man. No, this was not his fight, he could not get involved with anything or else somehow he might be forced to give away his identity...
The woman pleaded with the man to stop, but he wouldn't listen. Civilians and tourists just watched uselessly as he howled about how his brother had been killed by the Fire Nation in the war, and he'd never forgive them. The angered man raised his arm as he was about to shove the rest of the figures off the counter when his hand was grasped from the side. He looked with angry green eyes down at the young man in the straw hat, easily holding back the larger arm.
"It would be best if you stopped what you are doing..." The young man stated calmly, but his politeness only seemed to anger the large, frustrated man more, who's name had been called out in the crowd as Toren. Toren growled and without warning took a swing at the wandering painter, whom swiftly angled back and dodged the blow.
"You must be a sympathizer too! I'm sick of people always actin' like the Fire Nation never did anything! Someone has to pay!" Toren growled, taking a few more swings at the Painter who simply rested his hands behind his back and stepped out of the way of every attack. "Are you gonna fight me or not, you coward?!"
"No, I believe you're making enough of a fool out of yourself without my assistance." The Painter spoke quietly, his eyes still hidden by the hat. More attacks came but all were so easily avoided that he yawned softly at the first break. Now infuriated, the bearded man drew out a scimitar from his belt, wasting no time in swiping it at his opponent. This was getting a bit more serious, so the young man released his arms in order to better balance his dodges. One upward strike actually came close enough to slice through the brim of his hat and knock it off of his head. The Painter now stood with his golden eyes revealed and chestnut hair wavering slightly in the breeze. Having had enough, Toren thrust his sword straight for the man's heart, but he simply stepped to the side and grabbed his hand, placing his thumb on a pressure point to make him instantly drop the weapon. The wanderer's foot then placed in front of the still moving man and tripped him to the ground.
The Painter picked up the weapon and twirled it expertly, causing sounds of audible sliced air, then pointed it at Toren's throat, who now shivered in fear. "W-wait.."
"Attacking innocent businesspeople. Harboring anger over a war long finished. Such blatant disrespect for your elders. This world is better off without you..." The Nomad whispered in a rather eerie tone. Something inside him told him to end it. Finish it now. That the world really would be better off. That voice was very familiar. His father's voice... He couldn't listen to it, not anymore... but before he had a chance to do anything, a yellow metal fan flew out from off to the side and knocked his sword away. There stood a young woman roughly his age in Kyoshi makeup and garments. One of the Kyoshi Island Warriors, no doubt.
"I won't have such barbaric acts present in my village. Both of you leave at once..." The young woman demanded, drawing out another fan. Toren scrambled to his feet and dashed away. The Painter sighed slightly and nodded, going to retrieve his hat and the blade that had been left behind. He then noticed the shop woman approach the warrior.
"Luna, this man was only helping save my shop.." She explained. The Warrior's face turned calmer as she approached the Painter, bowing slightly.
"My apologies. Thank you for helping my mother.." She said, a bit ashamed she had yelled at him moments before.
"Your mother..? Oh.. It was no trouble..." He said quietly, turning to walk away. Luna.. That name was so similar to one he used to know quite well. Did everything have to remind him of his past? However he didn't get far before his stomach growled again, causing Luna to giggle and take his hand.
"I can see you're not from around here. Please, join us for dinner. It is the least I can do to thank you..." She glanced away, seeming to avoid his eyes for fear of blushing if they met.
"I do not wish to be a bother..." He tried to escape the somewhat uncomfortable situation. He would never admit it, but he was rather weak to beautiful women. Something he had tried desperately to avoid ever since he lost one especially important to him. Though he realized his hunger wished this invitation, hence why he had not thought of a better excuse. After all, how could someone be a bother to the person that was inviting them in the first place?
"None at all. We enjoy the company. So I guess that means you have no more excuses left. Come on! As you probably know already, I'm Luna, one of the Kyoshi Island Warriors. Pleased to meet you... um..?" The girl smiled, even giggling slightly ass he took the Painter's gloved hand and guided him away.
"...Sai."
As he reached town, he glanced between the various shops and corner vendors, smelling some rather compelling scents of dinner. As he continued down the main path, a particular vendor caught his eye, or what she was selling rather. Upon the wooden display rested various precisely carved figurines of familiar figures. Kyoshi, Roku, Aang and to his surprise, even Fire Lord Zuko. The young man grasped the figurine of Zuko and inspected the fine craftsmanship. The Painter had a lot of respect for his Lord, and the stern yet strangely vulnerable expression that the figure carried reminded him of when he performed for Zuko himself. His brother had performed first, and did so expertly. What he young man didn't know was his mischievous and competitive sibling had set up an invisible wire to trip him during his own performance. Sure enough, it worked, however he didn't stop, and he finished despite his mistake. While his father was angered that one of his sons would be so careless in front of the Fire Lord, Zuko personally approached the boy and told him about how he had done the same once. Zuko respected the young warrior's will to continue even though it was difficult, and it reminded him of himself.
Such words had stuck with him during this journey. It had been increasingly difficult hiding from people, shrouding his identity, but he had to keep going for the good of his Nation and for his own honor. He owed a lot to Zuko's inspiration. He could not let him down now. It had been about a minute since he picked up the figure, but he had become lost in the memories, therefore the passage of time seemed irrelevant. Finally, he was brought back to reality by the sound of a kind voice.
"You like that one? I can see you have similar eyes as he does..." An older woman spoke out. It was the stand owner. The man in the straw hat lowered his chin slightly to hide his eyes. He had been foolish, staring so fondly at something pertaining to his home. Anyone sharp enough would have known he was Fire Nation. However the woman didn't seem to, or if she did, she didn't seem to care.
"Oh, I'm just appreciating the work... It's exceptional..." He finally spoke out in a somewhat distant voice. The woman smiled as he placed it back down. He turned away to continue walking when a large, muscled man with a beard rushed up to the figure stand.
"Only sympathizers of the Fire Nation would keep junk like that!" The man growled, banging his fist on the stand, causing many of the figures to topple over. The Painter stopped, turning back to where he had just been standing, taking notice of the man. No, this was not his fight, he could not get involved with anything or else somehow he might be forced to give away his identity...
The woman pleaded with the man to stop, but he wouldn't listen. Civilians and tourists just watched uselessly as he howled about how his brother had been killed by the Fire Nation in the war, and he'd never forgive them. The angered man raised his arm as he was about to shove the rest of the figures off the counter when his hand was grasped from the side. He looked with angry green eyes down at the young man in the straw hat, easily holding back the larger arm.
"It would be best if you stopped what you are doing..." The young man stated calmly, but his politeness only seemed to anger the large, frustrated man more, who's name had been called out in the crowd as Toren. Toren growled and without warning took a swing at the wandering painter, whom swiftly angled back and dodged the blow.
"You must be a sympathizer too! I'm sick of people always actin' like the Fire Nation never did anything! Someone has to pay!" Toren growled, taking a few more swings at the Painter who simply rested his hands behind his back and stepped out of the way of every attack. "Are you gonna fight me or not, you coward?!"
"No, I believe you're making enough of a fool out of yourself without my assistance." The Painter spoke quietly, his eyes still hidden by the hat. More attacks came but all were so easily avoided that he yawned softly at the first break. Now infuriated, the bearded man drew out a scimitar from his belt, wasting no time in swiping it at his opponent. This was getting a bit more serious, so the young man released his arms in order to better balance his dodges. One upward strike actually came close enough to slice through the brim of his hat and knock it off of his head. The Painter now stood with his golden eyes revealed and chestnut hair wavering slightly in the breeze. Having had enough, Toren thrust his sword straight for the man's heart, but he simply stepped to the side and grabbed his hand, placing his thumb on a pressure point to make him instantly drop the weapon. The wanderer's foot then placed in front of the still moving man and tripped him to the ground.
The Painter picked up the weapon and twirled it expertly, causing sounds of audible sliced air, then pointed it at Toren's throat, who now shivered in fear. "W-wait.."
"Attacking innocent businesspeople. Harboring anger over a war long finished. Such blatant disrespect for your elders. This world is better off without you..." The Nomad whispered in a rather eerie tone. Something inside him told him to end it. Finish it now. That the world really would be better off. That voice was very familiar. His father's voice... He couldn't listen to it, not anymore... but before he had a chance to do anything, a yellow metal fan flew out from off to the side and knocked his sword away. There stood a young woman roughly his age in Kyoshi makeup and garments. One of the Kyoshi Island Warriors, no doubt.
"I won't have such barbaric acts present in my village. Both of you leave at once..." The young woman demanded, drawing out another fan. Toren scrambled to his feet and dashed away. The Painter sighed slightly and nodded, going to retrieve his hat and the blade that had been left behind. He then noticed the shop woman approach the warrior.
"Luna, this man was only helping save my shop.." She explained. The Warrior's face turned calmer as she approached the Painter, bowing slightly.
"My apologies. Thank you for helping my mother.." She said, a bit ashamed she had yelled at him moments before.
"Your mother..? Oh.. It was no trouble..." He said quietly, turning to walk away. Luna.. That name was so similar to one he used to know quite well. Did everything have to remind him of his past? However he didn't get far before his stomach growled again, causing Luna to giggle and take his hand.
"I can see you're not from around here. Please, join us for dinner. It is the least I can do to thank you..." She glanced away, seeming to avoid his eyes for fear of blushing if they met.
"I do not wish to be a bother..." He tried to escape the somewhat uncomfortable situation. He would never admit it, but he was rather weak to beautiful women. Something he had tried desperately to avoid ever since he lost one especially important to him. Though he realized his hunger wished this invitation, hence why he had not thought of a better excuse. After all, how could someone be a bother to the person that was inviting them in the first place?
"None at all. We enjoy the company. So I guess that means you have no more excuses left. Come on! As you probably know already, I'm Luna, one of the Kyoshi Island Warriors. Pleased to meet you... um..?" The girl smiled, even giggling slightly ass he took the Painter's gloved hand and guided him away.
"...Sai."
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