Katara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
markofthebrave) wrote2000-06-23 07:19 pm
markofthebrave) wrote2000-06-23 07:19 pm
(no subject)
June 21st - The General arrives. The domes are breached and the city inside needs to be defended.
It was like a scene out of her nightmares. Why were there so many people in this city on the moon? Cultists swooped out of the sky with their crazed cries and hate-filled eyes and they seemed to take delight in targeting civilians, in ravaging families. There was smoke as houses burned and screams as children cried.
Fighting inside the city was far better than fighting outside on the moon in terms of bending. There was air, so Aang could airbend and firebend, and it was warm enough that she didn't have to use ice in her attempts to restrain and tag the Cultists.
But fighting inside the city had its disadvantages as well - the twists and turns of the streets, the havoc of civilian interference and crumbling buildings made it almost breathtakingly simple to be separated from the group. And as Katara moved to safeguard one family from attack, shouting at them to run, that was exactly what happened. She had lingered behind, dodged to the side, and when the last Cultist was tagged and her water streamed back in to her high tech waterskin and so she found herself panting on the street, alone and without the slightest clue which direction Aang and the others had gone. She checked her tagger- seven left - and sheathed it in her belt.
Two shrieks split the sky, a mere hair's breadth away from each other. Katara glanced up, startled. The delay out in the open had cost her. Two Elites and their accompanying soldiers - three each, six in total, and was that a battle ax the size of Toph? - had spotted her from opposite sides of the sky. They were each swooping towards her in a bizarre sport, seeing which one could get to her first.
She didn't have enough water to make a stand like this, so Katara did the only sensible thing she could do - she ran. There had to be a place here which would give her access to more water. She just had to find it. And quickly, because one of the teams after her had decided to cheat, and launched an arrow at her back. She saw it coming out of the corner of her eye and quickly rolled out of the way and on to her feet, but it had cost her, and a team of Cultists had caught up to her.
She blocked off one attack with a waterwhip, threw a jet stream at another, but she just didn't have enough water, and the third came in close and shrieking and --
There. Out of the corner of her eye, a fire hydrant. She quickly grabs and pulls and now she has all the water she could want. She moves into an octopus form for defense first, easy and familiar and just enough to give her space and -
The second team caught up with her, and the octopus form was no protection from someone swooping in on top.
Katara lifted herself up to meet the attack in a towering column of water, a quick and furious move which surprised the team from above and allowed her to score a hit - until a Cultist from the team below sliced in to her support from the bottom, sending her crashing to the ground. She managed to control the fall with a trio of waterwhips slashing out on either side of her, but she landed hard on the ground and rolled to find herself face to face with the Battle Ax.
"No!" she shouted, lifting up an arm to control the water which had landed all around her. It formed a hard shield with the motion, barely stopping the ax and inch away from her outstretched bicep.
The Elite from the ground Cultist's team came nearer, just a few steps behind one approaching her with a rusty war hammer, screaming at the top of her lungs as she prepared to use Katara's head like a croquet ball.
In a furious frightened frenzy of bending, Katara shot out the water on all sides in inch long spikes of ice, scattering them around her like a nail gun while at the same time she kicked her feet up, forming a quick bubble all around her which she furiously maintained as she tried to gather the scattered water back to her. She just had enough for a defense here, and barely, nothing left to launch an attack. She was breathing heavily, and her left arm hurt as if it might have been wounded in her fall.
And the approaching Elite on the ground smirked at her, raised both hands, and poured a torrent of fire against her shield.
No.
She could do this. She could hold them off until help arrived. She just had to figure out a way--
The Elite in the air joined his brother in another torrent of fire, this time focusing his attack from above.
They would evaporate her water. She breathed out, chilling the water, doing the best that she could to stop it from boiling her where she stood.
If she dropped her shield, the Cultists surrounding her holding weapons would kill her. If she maintained it, even if she could keep it cold, soon enough she would run out of water. And if she ran out of water--
The fire will get me.
She'd be burned alive. Just like...
Sokka, Aang, Toph -- where are you!?
But no one was coming. She was alone, and she was going to die. She could hear the pounding of her blood behind her ears, feel the sting of sweat and tears in her eyes.
And she realized... that wasn't the only pounding of blood she could hear. She was on the moon itself. Her bending had never been stronger. She could feel the pounding of the blood inside their bodies.
No. No, I'm not going to die like this. I won't leave them here.
If she was going to do this, it had to be fast. She closed her eyes and kept the motions of her bending automatically as she reached out and listened. One... two... three... four...
Her water was evaporating away. She breathed out, created ice, but there was the barest sheen left and she could feel the heat of the fire on her finger tips.
...five... six...
Her hands were burning. She wanted to scream, but she kept extending her senses.
...seven... eight.
She had them.
Her eyes flew opened and she dropped the remnants of her shield, the fire spurting towards her in a raging gale -- to stop just short of completely engulfing her with all its fury as Katara took control of her attackers from the inside out.
Bloodbending. She had never thought she'd feel relief to use it, but even now something twisted in revulsion as she stood there, singed and burned and hurting, but alive.
The Cultists shrieked. Can't have that - what if they bring more? Can't let them go to tag them. What do I do?
The answer was so painfully clear. She held their hearts in the palm of her hand, in the extension of her will - all she needed to do was squeeze. They'd all fall, like overripe fruit. She'd be safe.
She'd be worse than Hama ever was.
Straightening, Katara slowly lowered one hand, forcing the straining airborn cultists to the ground. For a wild and desperate moment, she was tempted to crash them into each other, again and again until they passed out from impact, but she resisted the impulse. Instead she found her way by instinct and through applied medical knowledge, holding and squeezing just long enough to cause each Cultist to pass into deep unconsciousness.
Exhaling slowly, Katara lowered their bodies to the ground. She fumbled around for her scanner - seven shots left - and it slipped from her trembling and wounded hands.
No. Move. You have to make this quick.
It was like a scene out of her nightmares. Why were there so many people in this city on the moon? Cultists swooped out of the sky with their crazed cries and hate-filled eyes and they seemed to take delight in targeting civilians, in ravaging families. There was smoke as houses burned and screams as children cried.
Fighting inside the city was far better than fighting outside on the moon in terms of bending. There was air, so Aang could airbend and firebend, and it was warm enough that she didn't have to use ice in her attempts to restrain and tag the Cultists.
But fighting inside the city had its disadvantages as well - the twists and turns of the streets, the havoc of civilian interference and crumbling buildings made it almost breathtakingly simple to be separated from the group. And as Katara moved to safeguard one family from attack, shouting at them to run, that was exactly what happened. She had lingered behind, dodged to the side, and when the last Cultist was tagged and her water streamed back in to her high tech waterskin and so she found herself panting on the street, alone and without the slightest clue which direction Aang and the others had gone. She checked her tagger- seven left - and sheathed it in her belt.
Two shrieks split the sky, a mere hair's breadth away from each other. Katara glanced up, startled. The delay out in the open had cost her. Two Elites and their accompanying soldiers - three each, six in total, and was that a battle ax the size of Toph? - had spotted her from opposite sides of the sky. They were each swooping towards her in a bizarre sport, seeing which one could get to her first.
She didn't have enough water to make a stand like this, so Katara did the only sensible thing she could do - she ran. There had to be a place here which would give her access to more water. She just had to find it. And quickly, because one of the teams after her had decided to cheat, and launched an arrow at her back. She saw it coming out of the corner of her eye and quickly rolled out of the way and on to her feet, but it had cost her, and a team of Cultists had caught up to her.
She blocked off one attack with a waterwhip, threw a jet stream at another, but she just didn't have enough water, and the third came in close and shrieking and --
There. Out of the corner of her eye, a fire hydrant. She quickly grabs and pulls and now she has all the water she could want. She moves into an octopus form for defense first, easy and familiar and just enough to give her space and -
The second team caught up with her, and the octopus form was no protection from someone swooping in on top.
Katara lifted herself up to meet the attack in a towering column of water, a quick and furious move which surprised the team from above and allowed her to score a hit - until a Cultist from the team below sliced in to her support from the bottom, sending her crashing to the ground. She managed to control the fall with a trio of waterwhips slashing out on either side of her, but she landed hard on the ground and rolled to find herself face to face with the Battle Ax.
"No!" she shouted, lifting up an arm to control the water which had landed all around her. It formed a hard shield with the motion, barely stopping the ax and inch away from her outstretched bicep.
The Elite from the ground Cultist's team came nearer, just a few steps behind one approaching her with a rusty war hammer, screaming at the top of her lungs as she prepared to use Katara's head like a croquet ball.
In a furious frightened frenzy of bending, Katara shot out the water on all sides in inch long spikes of ice, scattering them around her like a nail gun while at the same time she kicked her feet up, forming a quick bubble all around her which she furiously maintained as she tried to gather the scattered water back to her. She just had enough for a defense here, and barely, nothing left to launch an attack. She was breathing heavily, and her left arm hurt as if it might have been wounded in her fall.
And the approaching Elite on the ground smirked at her, raised both hands, and poured a torrent of fire against her shield.
No.
She could do this. She could hold them off until help arrived. She just had to figure out a way--
The Elite in the air joined his brother in another torrent of fire, this time focusing his attack from above.
They would evaporate her water. She breathed out, chilling the water, doing the best that she could to stop it from boiling her where she stood.
If she dropped her shield, the Cultists surrounding her holding weapons would kill her. If she maintained it, even if she could keep it cold, soon enough she would run out of water. And if she ran out of water--
The fire will get me.
She'd be burned alive. Just like...
Sokka, Aang, Toph -- where are you!?
But no one was coming. She was alone, and she was going to die. She could hear the pounding of her blood behind her ears, feel the sting of sweat and tears in her eyes.
And she realized... that wasn't the only pounding of blood she could hear. She was on the moon itself. Her bending had never been stronger. She could feel the pounding of the blood inside their bodies.
No. No, I'm not going to die like this. I won't leave them here.
If she was going to do this, it had to be fast. She closed her eyes and kept the motions of her bending automatically as she reached out and listened. One... two... three... four...
Her water was evaporating away. She breathed out, created ice, but there was the barest sheen left and she could feel the heat of the fire on her finger tips.
...five... six...
Her hands were burning. She wanted to scream, but she kept extending her senses.
...seven... eight.
She had them.
Her eyes flew opened and she dropped the remnants of her shield, the fire spurting towards her in a raging gale -- to stop just short of completely engulfing her with all its fury as Katara took control of her attackers from the inside out.
Bloodbending. She had never thought she'd feel relief to use it, but even now something twisted in revulsion as she stood there, singed and burned and hurting, but alive.
The Cultists shrieked. Can't have that - what if they bring more? Can't let them go to tag them. What do I do?
The answer was so painfully clear. She held their hearts in the palm of her hand, in the extension of her will - all she needed to do was squeeze. They'd all fall, like overripe fruit. She'd be safe.
She'd be worse than Hama ever was.
Straightening, Katara slowly lowered one hand, forcing the straining airborn cultists to the ground. For a wild and desperate moment, she was tempted to crash them into each other, again and again until they passed out from impact, but she resisted the impulse. Instead she found her way by instinct and through applied medical knowledge, holding and squeezing just long enough to cause each Cultist to pass into deep unconsciousness.
Exhaling slowly, Katara lowered their bodies to the ground. She fumbled around for her scanner - seven shots left - and it slipped from her trembling and wounded hands.
No. Move. You have to make this quick.