Searing pain shot into Van's right leg and his dash quickly slowed to a limp. "AUuuugh! No seriously! What was that! Who does that! For the love of Wa Shi Tong! I'm going to decapitate you and shine my shoes with your BLOOD" It was at this point that Van realized he was sitting on the ground grabbing his shin and rocking back and forth like a child who fell at hit their knee knobbly thinger. His sword was by his side and his guard was completely down. This was actually a terrible situation.

Which was why when the wall of mist went up a great wave of relief washed over Van along with the disgusting humidity. As a man he was already sweaty, and this just made it much worse. But a man does not apologize for being a man, and as such he felt no grief at how bad he was going to smell in a few moments. Anyways, he was pretty relieved like I was saying. There goes Kazanko saving my ass again. I really gotta stop tallying up favors with him. Or at least start watching my own back...wait a mintue...oh spirit piss. What if he actually has gone turn coat. I can barely handle his mist at full strength, let alone with the weapon of my future wall trophy imbedded in my leg. Well, this is a sticky situation indeed. He stopped his incessent caterwauling and hoped that his previous bravado would have been enough to scare them off.

((Post end....OR IS IT!))*

*the answer is no.

————————————————-

Two weeks it had taken. Two weeks were devoted to this plan. Now Ji's heart was racing like a bad analogy in Auka's posts. It all came down to this. He had infiltrated the base. Spent an entire day and night holding on to the bottom of a noblemen's carriage until finally it had arrived. Incapacitated a hapless guard who had wandered off for some meal time privacy. Fought him to the death using cutlery in ways he'd never thought possible. Until he managed to drown the man in his own porridge. Stolen his identity. Made excuse after excuse after excuse as to why he never took off his helmet. Now he was perched on a guard tower. West wing, section B. Exactly 10 metres below him and fifteen feet in front, was a warehouse with 15 crates of what was supposed to be Fire Nation lava rocks for the Magistrates's dwelling. However 2 of them had been replaced with Fire Nation explosive jelly. Meticulously done night by night, for that was the only spot in the camp where only one guard's patrol reached all night. That guard was Ji. By pure chance the man he had incapacitated was known for being a loner, thus given a shift where he wouldn't interact with anyone, reporting to his superior only twice. The first time Ji had slipped up. His commander had suspected him when his report was too detailed. Apparently Xing would simply grunt affirmative to every inquiry. However suspicion passed without incidence. Now it was time for action. There wasn't much time until somebody noticed a thin trail of exploding jelly running from the crates to the weak wooden supports of the temporary watch tower. The magistrate was doing an inspection of this particular base, and the men were assembled for some pathetic show of appreciation. An entire battallion of men if not more occupied this city. What was a few dozen grunts guarding a warehouse. They were meaning less. Except for one small fact. One level higher on Omashu's steeped service, or more accurately 5 metre's to Ji's right was another establishment. An officer's quarters that was being rented out to a mercenary group known as Top-Blade. Added to this that the men had been talking for the last week about a certain prisoner being held personally by one of the members for unknown reason. Apparently an absolute beauty from the swamps. The men would constantly bicker about which would sacrifice the most to get a 'few minutes alone in that cell.' Lately Ji was remembering more and more. Especially things about Kazanko Tomo, That bastard must have a tongue made of silver. Top Blade was a group known for use of excessive force, nothing more than a terror squad. For them to acquire such a swanky base of operations it must have taken a lot of smooth talking. Or maybe rumors of the would-be resistance were getting the magistrate desperate for more troops. Either way Ji knew Rumi was close, and that he was finally close to saving her. He thought about all the abuse she must have suffered. Thought about everything horrible that could have been done to her. Thought about the failed resistance, the continued oppression. He let pain become rage, and that's where he found the power.

When fighting the mercenary something had clicked. While those spinning blades arced towards him, some primal part overrode his body and acted with one purpose: Live. He had brought his hands together, and threw sheer force of will countered the projectile with one of his own. A large ball of flame had exploded from his palms. Causing an ensuing explosion of mist from the condensed water. That's when he'd made his escape. That's when he'd seen Rumi taken away, and been powerless to stop it.

Now once again he brought rage, pain, and will power together. Focused it between his palms. Rotated his arms together as if centering the heat, and let it fly as another fireball roughly the size of his torso at an angle off the tower. The recoil pushed him back against the low wall and he almost lost his footing, it was about to get a lot worse. It struck half way between the line of goo, Sending skittering flames in either direction.

The explosions were deafening. Chaos would soon ensue. The primary one blew a hole the size of a skybison in the side of the warehouse and sent wood splinters and lava-rocks in every direction.

The secondary explosion elimitnated one of four supports on the tower. It began to fall. As the whole world began to invert Ji dashed to get on what would soon be the top of the tower. Clambering out of the side and gaining his footing on the small wooden edge. Leaping to land on what was once the peaked roof. He jumped one last time and collided with the giant stone edge of Omashu. Bracing with his legs so as not to lose his wind and fall to his death. The remains of the tower crashed below him, reverberating up the walls and once more threatened his grip. Adrenaline pulled him over the top where his ragged body fell over the lip.

And into a hapless flower bed of the building's courtyard. It must have been the manor of a wealthy patron before the takeover. Now it was horrifying. The courtyard was strewn with bodies and limbs. The stench of blood and rotten flesh reached Ji's nostrils. Some of the victims looked like they'd been torn apart by some great beast. He approached what seemed like a stone room attached to the house. It might have at one point been a steam room, but there was no roof. Ji could only assume what it's former purpose was. Now it was being used as a cell. Held captive was what must have at one point have been Rumi. Any tears he would have shed were held back by feelings of rage, and intents of vengeance. She was suffering, her dark hair ratty and tangled. Her complexion somehow dark from constant exposure to the sun, and sickly from the obvious lack of humanity she had been treated with. Anyone else would be dead. It had rained recently, Ji's only thoughts as to her survival was that with her bending she was somehow able to draw vitality from the rains. She wasn't all there. Semi-conscious at best. Forgetting his own aches Ji rushed too her side. Took the water skin from his hip and poored all of it into her mouth that he was forced to open himself. On her wrists were shackles attached to chains, connecting to rings bolted into the wall. Ji grabbed the metal on the outside of the shackles and felt the heat rise up again. Both the rings had two lips held together by a single bolt. Ji channelled all of the heat into them, until the metal began to soften and expand. He pulled at the seems and the shackles loosened. The smell of his own burnt flesh signed his nostrils. He was numb to the pain. With a semi-conscious Rumi on his back Ji left the abysmal scene. The streets were crowded, the explosion must have been heard by this whole area. Citizens and guards alike scurried like rats.
He joined the crowd. Making for a safer, quieter, part of the mountain city.

The moon no long hovered directly over the blood stained courtyard, and the light it gave barely illuminated the cell. While most of the time Rumi liked to have the light so she knew where that beast was, it was times like this, when Retsu was absent, she was content with the darkness. The smell was bad enough, but having to see what exactly it was coming from was even worse. Most nights Rumi would lay awake, listening to the noises beyond the four walls she was confined to. Sleep was near impossible, after all, who would trust falling asleep with a land shark only meters away from you? On this night however, there was an odd silence that made Rumi almost sick. She knew what was about to happen and she feared for her friends lives. Not even one star shined in the pitch black sky, nothing to wish on. No hope.

As Rumi lay on the hard, cold stone floor, curled up into a tight ball in a desperate attempt to keep herself warm, a loud booming explosion broke the silence. Most of the time Rumi was only half there, the torture and lack of nutrition had caused her to dive into some sort of state of mind where she could mostly only hear the things around her. She had blocked out all the pain, the sights and the smells. The thing that kept her alive was her strong will. Deep inside the frail figure still burned her dream, her goal, her ambition, her life.

The explosion sent Rumi’s heart racing as she initially feared for her friends’ lives, bringing her into a somewhat conscious state. She then listened to the sounds that followed.

Thud. Footsteps. A person?
Clang, the sound of metal snapping. They are setting me free? Just who is this… Rumi rolled over and stared up, wide eyed, at the person standing above her. Her eyeballs chased the five spinning people she saw above her, trying to focus. The figure was familiar, but there was no longer time for guessing the identity of this stranger as they were now scooping up her ragdoll like body and carrying her away on their back. Slowly, Rumi’s senses came back and she now realized the pair had moved into a crowd of people. Leaning into this stranger’s back, Rumi took in a deep breath. The scent gave the identity away. “Ji…” Rumi whispered into his back, before suddenly losing all consciousness for the first time in two weeks. Safety.



Slowly black turned to light as the young plant bender awoke from her deep sleep, vision becoming clear. Beneath her aching body was a rather hard mattress, though considerably softer than the stone she had been on. Rumi’s eyes flittered at the walls around her, there was one small window on the wall behind her head and a door at her feet, other than that the walls were completely undecorated. The only furniture in the room was two single beds, which were barely a foot apart. As Rumi rolled over to face the other bed, she noticed someone was still in it, Ji. She then remembered the events from before losing consciousness, he had saved her. Tears of relief filled her eyes and rolled down her tender cheeks, so thankful to be away from that place.

Realizing that she probably looked like some sort of swamp monster, and most likely smelt like one too, the young woman decided to go search for some sort of shower. Getting up was certainly a challenge, but then walking was even more fun, her legs shaking, wanting to give out from under her. As Rumi stepped outside the doorway, to her direct right was something she did not want to see. Stairs. Taking each step at a time, Rumi slowly made her way down, only the last few steps however, a sudden pain shot from her ankle to her knee in her left leg, causing it to collapse and ultimately sent Rumi toppling down to the bottom.

After the fall a woman Rumi did not recognize came rushing over to her side, “oh my! What are you doing up from bed?” she questioned, helping Rumi back up to her feet. “Bathroom, shower…” Rumi struggled to answer, her voice still weak and to which she was quickly replied to with, “of course, of course! Let my help you.” The woman both escorted and supported Rumi on the walk to the bathroom.

After not too long, the plant bender stepped out of the bathroom. Obviously she was not wearing her kimono, as that was still at the pleasure house and at the time of her capture, Rumi had been wearing the fire nation clothing. The female owner of this house had left them out for her to wear. They were nothing flattering just a simple green short sleeved top and three quarter pants lined with gold edgings and a few embroidered flowers here and there. Rumi had also styled her hair differently. On the left side of her face, most of the bruising had cleared over, but almost all of the right side was purple. Her hair was silky once again and pulled back into a ponytail, only Rumi had left enough hair out to fall down across the right side of her face, in an attempt to cover up the bruising.

Once out into the main area of the house, which seemed to be a kitchen, dining and entrance all in the one room, the woman rushed over to Rumi once again asking if she was feeling better, to which Rumi nodded her head. The woman then started to speak again, “please have a seat at the table, I have breakfast ready for you two. I’ll go up and get your friend,” and she rushed off up the stairs. Rumi did as she was asked and took a seat at the table with her back to the staircase.

“Is everything ready?”

Captain Kugi Tang looked up at his new partner and was instantly reminded of the vile and sadistic woman whose departure led to his new and unwanted promotion. Once more working with a woman of cruel unpredictability made Kugi think of happier times serving under his Captain as a Lieutenant. Perhaps it was a good sign being once again saddled with a crazy woman.

"Almost. I need to recruit some more volunteers. We don't know anything about their numbers and I don't take chances with these Resistance bastards. This is a large city full of earhbenders so disappearing won't be a problem for them. We have to capture or kill everyone in one move. Then again, if I got everything I wanted I'd be swinging in a hammock on Ember Island."

When a young messenger relayed the message of the unplanned escape of one of the resistance members Kugi responded the same way he responded to most things. A weary sigh. The teenaged boy looked to be expecting anything from a quick death to being turned over for torture. Kugi already had that power as a lieutenant and didn't care for it as a captain either. Murder and torture were only for personal vendettas.
"That's...unfortunate."

Kugi politely bowed to Naomi.
"Would you like to see something interesting?"
As undignified as it was, Kugi ran. He ran to the metal cells holding the earthbenders and the high-risk prisoners. It took a pulled string or two but some low-level prisoners had found their way there. Specifically, actors. Being stuck on a freighter most of the time good, live entertainment was hard to come by. He could only take so many talentless talent nights on the freighter.
Therefore, he put a few perfomers together and hoped for the best and wasn't disappointed. It took a while for the others to convince the large, surly earthbender to join in and publicly embrace acting, but it finally happened.
He made a gesture for everyone to remain quiet and listened for the show to start.

"If you step on my lines again I swear I will reach through these bars and squeeze your neck until your eyes explode."
Kuma Takeda rolled his eyes and sighed while Kugi smiled at how much of a prima donna a man chained to a wall could be. The Fire Nation Captain silently sat down with the other guards on the floor and lit up his pipe.
"What are they doing?" Kugi asked.
One of the guards remarked that they were still bickering about what scene to rehearse or song to sing.

Kuma didn't argue, he just did what he wanted. It's what was manly. He silenced the others with his projected voice singing an old but well-known song about a rakish young man whiling away his time with the women of Omashu. His former lover had a fondness for the song and bid him to sing it often. Sadness tinged his voice thinking about Dan-Li and made a cheeful drinking song into something melancholy and filled with regret.

Kugi sighed out a plume of smoke at the thought of having to execute Kuma. It would have been nice to keep him around for entertainment.
"Enjoy the entertainment while it lasts. Our earth-bending diva escapes tomorrow night. Just when we got the bastard to sing, too."

The march to New Ozai was about as eventful as their stay in Ba Sing Se, but it wasn't as long as it had been from Azei's old camp. Mostly, the men settled for muffled jokes behind their face masks, and rather than stop them, the Captain let them carry on; that is, until they got to New Ozai. Conduct unbefitting a soldier was conflict unbefitting the entire troop.

After a few hours walking from Ba Sing Se, the mountains rose up in front of them, effectively barring them from easily getting to their destination. Azei cursed under his breath, knowing that the Cave of Two Lovers would be the quickest and most efficient way to cross the mountains and thankfully, he'd heard about the Cave's secret from another soldier. Thank god for folklore.

The black mouth of the Cave engulfed them, and his entire platoon's first instinct was to create fire. Azei gave a signal and they all extinguished their flames, causing the blue crystals on the cave ceiling to illuminate. Navigating the labyrinth was easy now, but the entire time they were traveling, he swore he could feel vibrations all around them. It was probably Earthbenders who had gotten lost, and that thought gave him a bit of sadistic happiness.

Finally, the light of day pierced the gloom and the path to New Ozai was visible, almost effortless to walk upon as it led them to the city. He could see the Fire Nation banners from where he was, and the imposing monolith drew ever closer until he was at the gates.

"Captain Azei Xian. I'm here under orders from General Chow," he said to the guards, handing them the note. After deciding that it was official enough, they let him and his men pass and they were off into the city. They passed a group of guards, and he paused to talk to them.

"Excuse me, would you happen to know where Captain Tang is?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Captain Tang? He's up at the prison. Apparently, they caught some members of a resistance faction breaking into a storeroom," the guard said, earning nods from his fellows.

"As you were," he said and they complied, continuing their patrols. If his knowledge of the city was still valid, the prison would be at the top of the city.

The hike up took its toll on them and by the time they were at the top, they needed to stop and rest. Constant walking had its way of punishing those who were foolish enough to take it on; still, they pressed onward to the prison. Once again they were stopped by guards.

"Captain Azei Xain. I'm looking for Captain Tang," he said, and they looked at each other before nodding and allowing them entry. Being of a higher rank had its perks, and one of those happened to be compliance, although not always enjoyable, from those in lower ranks. It was a power he relished. Once the doors were open, he turned to his men.

"Stay out here. I need to find Captain Tang," he said, and a murmer of acknowledgement went through the platoon. They scattered, anxious to check out the panoramic view from the top of the city, and he continued into the prison.

"Second level down," he heard from behind him and he stuck a hand up, making sure that the guards at the entrance knew he'd heard them.

The prison was everything a prison should be, and he made his way down its corridors to a staircase. His boots made hollow echoes as he walked down the stairs, and before he knew it, he was at a guarded door. The guards simply saw the insignia on his armor and allowed him to continue.

The second station at the bottom of another set of stairs was another story. As soon as he approached, the guards drew their weapons and hoisted them menacingly.

"Easy now. Captain Azei Xian. I have orders from General Chow to find Captain Tang," he said, tossing the note to one of the guards, who caught it deftly. They scrutinized it closely and when it was determined that it wasn't a forgery, the door opened.

As he walked into the second level, he could have sworn he heard singing, but he tried to ignore it as he approached a man who was obviously a part of the Fire Nation Military.

"Captain Tang?" he asked, wary of any potential trouble that might arise from his presence.

"Captain Tang?"

Recently promoted Captain Kugi Tang shot up from his seated position and saluted the unfamiliar man in his presence. Though they were technically the same rank an experienced Captain outranked one who hadn't been official long enough to recieve a new uniform. Seeing another Captain around to absorb any future ramifications only served to improve what had already been a good day. Naturally, his face didn't show it. He kept his smile inside as he introduced himself.
"Sir! Lieu...er, Captain Kugi Tang of the Anti-Resistance ship Qilin."

As he saluted Kugi simultaneously used firebending to transfer the flame of his pipe into the air, snuffing out the pipe. He assumed he looked decidedly unfit for his rank sitting on the prison floor smoking with the lower ranks and listening to prisoners sing. Although he hated being in a more visible rank, Kugi was determined to do the same thing he did as a lieutenant. Remain unnoticed and thus unharmed.
He gestured to the woman that had now aided him.
"My colleague Miss Naomi Kurochi of the Top Blade bounty hunters."

Kugi felt ill at ease. Back on the Qilin and through most of his carreer he had only dealt with those lower or higher than him. He knew how to react to people who he outranked or outranked him. Things were awkward until one of the prisoners noticed his presence and broke the ice.
"Tang! After I kill you, I'm going to violate your corpse. Repeatedly. Just so you know, you eyebrow-shaving, platypus-bear raping bastard!"

As crude and disgusting as the man was, Kuma Takeda certainly knew how to sense and change the mood of a room.
"Why don't we adjourn to the hall? In the meantime, make sure somebody breaks one of his ankles," he said to one of the guards.

As he led Captain Xian and Naomi to the hall Kugi explained his plan to have Kuma lead them to the resistance.
"If we can stage a fairly realistic escape scenario Takeda there should be able to locate and open the door to the resistance for us. I've only observed him for two weeks, but I know he's the type who is too proud to avoid a confrontation. He'll either try to face us alone and die or he'll drag his friends along with him to his doom. He's an actor, so I'll wager he's a sucker for a big dramatic death scene. A small, elite unit of fighters could snuff this resistance before it becomes too dangerous. Naturally, I defer to your greater experience and judgement in this matter, Captain..."
It was then Kugi realized that he had rambled on and on without asking the name of the man he was talking to.
"My apologies, Captain. I didn't ask your name."

Azei saluted the man, but became concerned when his first instinct was to address himself as "Lieutenant."

Great. I got one that was just promoted. he thought to himself, trying not to let it show on his face. While it was good to have another Captain on this Anti-resistance force, he was hesitant if that meant that Captain Tang didn't have prior battle commanding experience. Not that it made him any better, but he'd feel more comfortable if his new comrade had started out in a platoon and then been promoted to lead it, as he had. It helped a lot, especially with ease of giving and obeying orders, but who was he to complain? An able-bodied soldier was an able-bodied soldier.

The comment made by the man chained to the wall piqued his interest; so, he was one of those prisoners. He didn't have much experience working in prisons, but a brief stint on the Boiling Rock in the earliest stages of his platoon formation had given him enough insight into the relationship between prisoners and the soldiers who held them captive. He made a mental note to speak to this prisoner later. He was then introduced to a woman; a bounty hunter, to be more specific.

"Pleasure," he said, bowing his head slightly to her.

"Wait," he said at Tang's order to break the man's ankle, making the guards who went to obey hesitate.

"Not until I get a chance to talk to him," he said, and the men nodded. He hadn't overridden Tang's order; merely delayed its execution. With that, he followed Tang into the hall and listened to the plan. Apparently, they were to allow this man, Takeda, to escape so he would lead them to the Resistance forces. It seemed simple enough.

"Captain Xian, Capital City Territorial Patrol," he said, nodding.

"The plan sounds simple enough, but are you sure he'll lead us back there? Won't he be suspicious of how easy it is to escape?" he asked, casting his gaze to the door that separated them and Takeda.

As he rolled over in the cotton sheets Ji wondered if the creaking reaching his ears came from the aged wood of the bed or his own aching bones. He had walked with Rumi on his back for what felt like miles with his now bandaged hands searing with pain the entire way. The calamity of the explosion and the resulting crowd had quickly given way to near deserted streets that seemed endless.

Eventually the rythmic thump of Rumi's limp hands crashing on his chest more or less synched up with the pulses of agony emanating from his palms. To his left was the expanse of desert and mountains mixed with the unforgiving horizon. To his right were the cold stone walls of omashu. Temporary shelters during the occupation and other dwellings built directly into the mountain decorated its base. Some were merely stone hovels built with all the care do the poor by the elite, while others were elaborate works of art with similar architecture to the great stone mail chutes that were rapidly being put out of use by the Fire Nation.

The tired soldier nearly collapsed onto the doorstep of a house he deemed far enough away from the scene of the crime. Made of wood the patrons inside were not wealthy. But the sturdy construction suggested they didn't belong to Omashu's lower caste either.

A loud series of bangs forced Ji completely awake. He darted from under the sheets and made a dash for the stairs. Not again. He thought. All of the soldier in Omashu wouldn't be able to hurt that girl again while he still drew breath.

Instead of invading soldiers Ji found Rumi and the stairs had had quite an argument. He was overcome with worry for her frail state, but the woman of the household was already helping her up. Easily into her late 50s her hair was a cascading palate of white, grey, and black. She held age well, not with the dignity of the noble but the pragmatic air of a woman who had worked her entire life, and had zero intention of slowing down now.

“Bathroom, shower…” Ji could only just make out the Swamp-girls weak words. A wave of relief washed through him, she wasn't injured seriously, and she would recover from her tenure with those monsters in time. He knew even now how important Rumi's dignity was to the girl. He made no sign of witnessing the fall.

Returning to the sheets he collapsed not from any physical symptoms, but the weight of a heavy heart and conscience. It was his fault she was captured, his fault for what she had to endure. He was powerless against the sheer volume of guards escorting her, let alone that half-shark beast, a terrible creature the likes of which he'd never witnessed before. With Rumi safe for the moment and no immediate danger the soldier in Ji receded, and gave way to the extremely vulnerable man beneath.

The sobs came in dry heaves, and the tears flowed without restraint, staining the pillow on which he lay. Eventually the tears passed, giving way to a more passive feeling of despair, residing deep within his gut.

An unknown amount of time passed before the woman appeared at the door. 'I have breakfast ready downstairs, I do hope you'll join the poor girl. Then maybe you'll tell me why you saved her from your own kind.'

'How did you...' Ji began,

'Know you're of the fire nation. I'm old my boy, not naive. I just hope you are as honorable as you appear.'

'They're not my kind. I'd prefer death.' He spat bitterly, but rose none the less. He left the room and descended the stairs one creak at a time. When Rumi turned to the sound, aware and very much alive, she was beautiful. Her cheeks were gaunt and she was sickly thin, but even one night's rest had done her a world of good. Her face was darkened by the sun, making the bruising on her face appear much closer to healing. But around the edges of the dark hair covering the other side of her face Ji could make out purple markings. And it was hell to meet her gaze. "I'm...so...sorry." Was all he could get out before taking a seat at the table.

The rich aroma that filled the room from the freshly cooked food was almost more than the starved young woman could handle. Eyes fixed on the meal across from her, unblinkingly inspecting what would soon be resting inside her stomach. Rice, vegetables, and some kind of meat - most likely beef and some sort of soup served in separate bowls. Rumi could feel her stomach aching, it had been too long since she had eaten a proper meal. It was all too much and the plant bender completely erased any memory she had of her mother telling her to wait for everyone to be at the table before she started her meal. Lifting her chopsticks towards her food and picking up a strip of meat, Rumi brought the food up to her mouth and CREAK. Quickly, Rumi put the meat back down and returned the chopsticks to the table before turning to see Ji coming down the stairs, followed by the old woman.

The lady of the house could have been a marching band and Rumi still wouldn’t have paid any attention, her eyes were glued to Ji. A genuine smile quickly blossomed on the young woman’s face, despite knowing he was the one that rescued her and noticing him on the other bed beside hers, it felt like she was seeing him now for the first time since her imprisonment. Her eyes watered, but she was strong enough to hold back the tears from falling. During her time away from everyone, there was one person above all other she had missed the most, and that person was walking towards her. As she continued to watch Ji, she noticed he was not so happy to see her, there was an obvious guilt in his eyes, and Rumi automatically suspected that Ji was blaming himself for what she had been through. "I'm...so...sorry." he spoke as he took a seat at the table, his words highlighting Rumi’s suspicion that he was blaming himself.

Getting up from her seat, Rumi stepped towards where Ji was seated and leaned down, wrapping her arms around him. She held him tight as she spoke softly in his ear, “It is not your fault, and any argument you have against that, I don’t want to hear it. Forget about the past, I am free now, because of you. Thank you.” She squeezed his body tighter for a moment before releasing him and pulling back, however, only enough for her to be able to stare him directly in the eyes. Rumi wanted to make sure he understood what she was saying, living with guilt or regret is not something to live by, she would know.

When Rumi returned to her seat, she then turned to the woman and asked if they may start eating to which the lady said they could. Without hesitation Rumi scooped up a large amount of rice and vegetables and forced it into her mouth in a completely unladylike fashion, but she didn’t care. For a second, Rumi glanced over at Ji and pointed at his food, telling him to start eating too. It didn’t take too long for Rumi to finish her meal and when she was done she thanked the woman and complimented her on her cooking ability. Rumi then stood up from the table, took her bowls and chopsticks to the sink. “I’ll be up in the room,” Rumi informed Ji as she walked behind him on her way to the stairs. There was more she wanted to talk to him about, though things she didn’t want to bring up in front of an outsider.

A subtle warm weight fell around Ji's soldiers as her arms engulfed him. Her grip was surprisingly strong and as she leaned forward he felt the soft air of her breath on the side of his head. “It is not your fault, and any argument you have against that, I don’t want to hear it. Forget about the past, I am free now, because of you. Thank you.” The last two words rattled around in Ji's head. Thank you? For what exactly. Fixing his own mistake. Taking her away from the torment he had a part in inflicting upon her. It's not enough. They have to pay.[/i] But thoughts of vengeance were stifled by Rumi's presence. His body tightened at her touch, and the scent of her hair made him light-headed.

He raised a bandaged hand to grip the one on his right shoulder, but she began to withdraw. When she lingered to lock eyes Ji couldn't bare it. He stared directly at the bridge of her nose, a trick he must have learned from staring down superiors and uppity recruits. His resolve failed and their eyes met for real. Breathing became easier when instead of pain, he saw only joy in Rumi's eyes. But he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He gathered the different foods together on a plate.

His gaze was angled at the centre of the table, avoiding responsibility by counting the rings on the knottiest of the old wood. He poked and prodded the food with chopsticks, but very little if any reached his mouth. Eventually Rumi finished and rose, “I’ll be up in the room,” she shot back from the stairs. Ji felt his stomach wrack with guilt. But he was able to begin eating.

He graciously thanked the old woman after the meal, and scrubbed the dishes himself. His hands searing with pain the entire time. In a way he appreciated the pain. It reminded him of his mistake, made sure he wouldn't forget the cost of failure. After the dishes he had run out of excuses to face Rumi.

He took the steps slowly, one at a time, wringing out his mind for something to say. When he entered the room and saw her elegant profile on the bed his mouth went dry. "I'm not going to let them hurt you again...ever."

After finally getting a good nights rest on a somewhat comfortable mattress, a nice refreshing, warm shower and a delicious, flavorsome meal with a variety of different foods, Rumi was certainly beginning to feel more herself. While the last two weeks had obviously left her looking different – being slimmer, most noticeably in her face with her high cheek bones, the deep purple bruising over her body and the slightly darker complexion, the young woman was certainly feeling a lot better than she looked. The climb up the stairs was certainly a lot easier than descent now that she had regained some strength in her body. Once she returned to the small, drab cubicle of a room, Rumi immediately made her way to her bed and sat down. She stared at the floor, though her eyes weren’t focused. Thoughts started to flood her mind, distracting the young woman from everything that was around her.

During her imprisonment, Rumi thought a lot about the other members of the resistance – If Koji had managed to escape or had he really been fed to Retsu? Had Kyozuki and Kai found new people to join the resistance? If so, Rumi was ashamed as the leader to be held captive during such an important time. Was Kuma keeping himself out of trouble? She doubted it, which both amused and worried her. And of course, there was Ji. Much deeper thoughts and feelings arose whenever Rumi started to think of him. Memories would visit her, reminding her of the time she cooked breakfast with him, right before the Fire Nation burned down his inn and the time in Ji’s bedroom where they had kissed for the first time. The kiss that would often replay in her memory, the same kiss that she tried to forget. Then the words that Rumi had said to Ji down in the underground when he almost walked away from it all echoed in her head. But I do know something… And… that is that I know I want you there with me.[/i]

"I'm not going to let them hurt you again...ever."

The voice startled the young woman who was deep in thought and she quickly turned her head in the direction it had come from. His words made Rumi realize something once again, the same feeling she had felt when Ji had rescued her – that whenever she was him, Rumi felt safe, which made her believe every word he said. As Rumi just looked over at Ji, sharing eye contact, the words echoed again, I know I want you there with me.[/i] Without breaking eye contact with Ji, Rumi rose from the bed and slowly walked to where he stood, her heart racing. She stopped directly in front of him, her eyes locked with his. Rumi’s feelings for the man before her scared her. What she feared most was forgetting about her lost love, Xi, and the feelings that Ji gave her were quickly replacing those she shared with Xi. There with me.[/i]

Without even time for another thought, Rumi stepped forward, her soft lips landing on those of the young man’s in front of her. After a moment, Rumi pulled back only to speak, “I guess I really did need you with me after all. And I want you by my side, not just till the end of this war, but until the day I die.” Expressing her feelings to a man other than Xi was surprisingly easier than Rumi had expected. There was no guilt, no regret, only contentment as she looked over his face.

As those dark eyes connected with his own a dark pit formed in the base of Ji's stomach. Not the nervous elating butterflies that so often accompany discovery of the opposite sex, but an anxious weight of guilt like the sound of a cricket outside a bedroom window slowly driving him to mild insanity. And as the girl strode towards him his conscience thought of a million protests. And he couldn't bring himself to deny her. Or more likely deny himself of her. By the time the angel on his shoulder had gained the upper-hand it was too late. And as her soft, full lips met his own rough, chapped mouth his mind became numb.

Suddenly the moment was all that mattered. Like a drowning man's first breath of air the physical expression of another's care lifted him. For the moment there was only Ji and Rumi, and what they shared. It was as if all control had been lost as his her embraced and his bandaged hands moved to the subtle curves at the small of her back and hips. And all his senses were consumed by Rumi. Closed eyes robbed him of his sight, as the intoxicating mixed of her still damp hair and the aromas of the desert plants from the oils of her shower. The rapid vibrations of her heart seemed to synch with his own until it seemed an audible pounding that drowned out his awareness, and her lips felt and jesus I feel like I'm writing a friggin' harlequin the source of a pulse of heat and...tinglyness spreading to the extremes of every limb. It came with such a surprised that Ji was ill-prepared, his first caresses were jerky and awkward until they found a common rhythm and their mouths slipped into place like the gears of an incredibly sexy clock. Moments that seemed like hours passed and when they parted Ji's only regret was the kiss seemed too short.

She pulled away but they remained entwined and Ji felt as if he were shaking. His body was exploding as if another second not showing Rumi his appreciation would lead to a complete meltdown. A battle was fought between self-control, and lowering the beautiful figure infront of him onto the bed a little -too- firmly and ravishing her on the spot. In the end it was good manners that won out, as Ji would never inconvenience the old lady so. Instead he raised a bandaged hand to her face, gliding two fingers across her cheek, and placing the side of his thumb against the small crevice of her upper lip, hoping the gentle motion would somehow get across the extent of his desire.

“I guess I really did need you with me after all. And I want you by my side, not just till the end of this war, but until the day I die.” And suddenly Ji was frozen. His soul felt crushed, and the guilt came back ten fold. This was the absolute last thing he wanted. For someone to get close to him. To have her trust and dependance, only a set up for him to fail her again. But he could meet her gaze, and had nothing but respect for her courage to admit something like that. He stared unflinching at her, the same look of intensity across his features, and pondered her lingering taste in his mouth, and the subtle yet intoxicating scent, before shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Rumi..." he began, searching for the words, desperately looking for a way to communicate to her his feelings. It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to her, the absolute opposite, it wasn't that he didn't care, he would put her life before his own, it was his own failings. "...but I am the last person you need to rely on. I'm barely here...sometimes I feel like I'm not even me, like I don't know what is real or not, what I am, and what I know. I don't know which side I'm on, and I don't know right from wrong. It's getting worse...all the time I lose more and more of me. That mercenary...he knows things about me that even I don't know, and the point is I can't be half you need, or half of what you deserve...not the way I am now."

How could she possibly understand. These conflicting memories that were becoming more and more problem. The sneaking suspicion that he wasn't the person he believed he was, simply a shadow of another man's life time. And Ji couldn't be sure that man didn't want his life back. Rescuing Rumi had been his anchor, and now that she was safe he was unravelling at the seems. All because of this gods-damned firebending nonsense. "Please understand, I just, can't have you need me, not when even I can't tell who I am." Pressure seemed to be gathering around him, as he struggled to meet his gaze. He felt water gathering behind his eyes, but would never show it. He felt more anger in his heart, at those who had taken this girl's life, and forced her into this sad imitation. "But...I still need you to stand by me, I need your strength, and I need you to remind me of our own. Because we have so much left to do. Omashu is our greatest chance to stand against the Fire Nation, and right now our resistance, no matter how rag-tag, is the only force capable of reviving it." As the excitement of new determination mingled with his already pumping heart Ji was fighting a losing battle. Seconds longer staring at the beautiful face brought before him by spirits, fate, or serendipity and the war was over. He gently braced her cheek with his hand, pulling her forcefully towards him with the arm at her hip. Passionately, but gently he wrapped his lips around the lower half of her mouth, and embraced her in another kiss.

((Oh my god, I am going to have to write about clubbing baby seals or something after this to regain any manliness I once had.))

((On that note, let's get back to Vanshiro - I think it's time for Kyozuki to develop the beginnings of a spine))

Kyozuki flinched as the mysterious attacker let out a bloodthirsty tirade, curling up even further. She hated this. Here she was, everyone around her in danger, and all she could do was sit there paralyzed in fear. But what could she do? Her waterbending was nowhere near good enough to fight with - she had the fine control needed for healing, but she lacked the strength and reaction time to turn the water into an effective weapon. Besides, anything larger than a bowl of water and she needed her full concentration - she'd barely pulled off the waterbending neccesary to smuggle herself into the city. Trying to fight wasn't even an option. What earthly use could a bowlful of water have in a fight?

And then it struck her. Whether it was a moment of clarity amidst the panic or the product of sheer desperation, spirits knew, but the idea lodged in her head. And the more she thought about how mad it was, the more she became convinced it could work. It could be done. She could do it.

Pulling herself up, back still pressed against the cave wall, Kyozuki drew out the water in her water-skin in one swift (though shaky) motion. Heart fluttering like a hummingbird-moth, Kyozuki stepped forwards, moving quickly before her mind managed to catch up and realise how insane this was. Raising the water to the level of her face, she took another few steps towards the shadowy figure in the mist.

"The plan sounds simple enough, but are you sure he'll lead us back there? Won't he be suspicious of how easy it is to escape?"

Kugi couldn't laugh but he smiled wide at Azei's question.
"Takeda is here because he started a fight with me in the middle of the street. In the short time he's been here he's only spoken to threaten me or recently sing. Listening to his threats and dealing with his fellow actors I've learned one thing about Kuma Takeda. He is astoundingly arrogant. The idiot probably thinks he can escape on strength alone. Give him some head trauma, feed a couple of disposable guards to him and he'll think he's perpetrated the greatest escape in history. Never underestimate the predictability of arrogance."

Maybe it was finally having someone acceptable to serve as a target for praise and keep to his comfortable obscurity or being in the vastly familiar realm of dealing with violent and prideful members of the resistance but Kugi started to feel relaxed in Captain Azei's Xian's presence.
"The difficulty in this plan lies in remaining unseen until Takeda can find and open the door the resistance for us. I'd prefer to have the man chained up and forced to perform for the rest of his life, but we need an earthbender to get us access to the resitance."
Finally relaxed enough to light up his pipe again, Kugi leaned his back against the wall and sighed up a stream of smoke.
"Things would be so much easier if we could turn a few earthbenders to our cause, wouldn't it? Takeda's a handfull. Make sure you stay behind the chalk line when you talk to him. Oh, and be prepared to dodge spit."

So, they were dealing with an arrogant actor? Azei allowed a small smile to cross his lips and remain there; the thought was extremely entertaining. When it came to prisoners, they were all the same; they valued their freedom and hated the people who took it away from them, regardless of who they were. Sure, most prisoners gave up on the hope of escape after a while, but some of them were constantly plotting escape by any means necessary, even if it meant risking their own lives. Kuma Takeda was probably like this, despite the fact that he was just one person. Tang's plan sounded solid.

"When he escapes, I'd wager good money that he'd be expecting us to pursue him, but that worries me. If we chase him, he might not lead us to the Resistance, but...what if we pursued him like the inept matchsticks he thinks we are? We go after him for a while, then give up because 'he's too smart.' We could alert the street patrols to keep an eye out for but not apprehend him and then, when he thinks it's safe, we can strike," he suggested, speaking his idea as it formed in his head. This situation was going to be tricky but, if they played their cards right, they would be able to pull this off. He listened to Tang's warnings about the Earthbender and nodded.

"It should be easy enough to clean up my armor," he remarked dryly, turning back to the door and walking in. As soon as it was closed behind him, he found the object of his interest chained to a wall with a chalk line around him, just as Tang had described.

"Kuma Takeda...Captain Tang informed me of your...disposition...before I requested to see you," he said, a smile on his face. This was going to be fun.

((So kyo I'm just going to assume that you did your water-ball thing, feel free to ret-con your post so that you did.))

All of a sudden Van found it impossible to breathe. Water was streaming into his nose and mouth, and after such physical exertion he was unable to hold his breath. It must have been that traitorous wretch Kazanko, do be defeated so easily, and by such pathetic means. Van was furious, and now he was going to die, with so much vengeance left to be wreaked. Quickly his thoughts simply became reflectory on the horror of drowning. Soon afterwords he lost consciousness.

That's it... that's it, slowly... slowly...

Suddenly the shadowy figure of the earthbender lunged. Kyozuki almost lost it then, but her resolve held. As the earthbender came out of the mist, Kyozuki's hands came up, and the glob of water wrapped itself around the attacker's face. The charge became a stumble, as the earthbender thrashed about, trying to shake the water clear. Kyozuki stood, almost unconsciously assuming a bending stance as her hands flowed back and forth, matching every wild movement that her attacker made.

It was surreal. The years of healing training had honed her control of water to a level most male waterbenders didn't attain. She was functioning more on instinct than thought (which was just as well - if she stopped to think about it, she would have probably locked up in panic). It was almost easy; stemming the flow of blood in a heavy bruise required precise control, whereas here all she needed to do was hold the water more or less against the man's face.

Finally, the earthbender's thrashing became subdued, and he toppled to the ground. Withdrawing the water from the man's face, Kyozuki inched closer, bending down to check that he was still breathing. He was. Straightening up from her examination, Kyozuki closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I think" she said, calmly and clearly, "I shall need to sit down for a while." Turning around, she walked in an almost dream-like state to the cooking pit, setting herself down on a bare patch of rock. Lying down prone on her back, arms splayed above her head, Kyozuki closed her eyes, head still giddy from the battle.

Yes, the battle. She'd just won a battle. The idea made her light-headed. It was like... Kyozuki honestly didn't know. She was almost beginning to wonder whether it had actually happened. Opening one eye, she peered back at the cavern. Nope, there was definitely an unconscious earthbender on the floor. Closing her eyes again, Kyozuki gave a deep, relieved sigh.

The dust cleared and...Vanshiro was on the ground, clutching his leg and ranting. It was hilarious, but incredibly pathetic. Masato knew that it would be the perfect chance to attack, but couldn't bring himself to attack a man who was busy rolling on the ground in pain. It just seemed unfair.

Then, mist blanketed the cave and any chance he would've had of attacking disappeared. He wasn't about to throw knives when he couldn't see. He didn't think his fellow Resistance members would appreciate being pierced by knives. So he just stayed where he was, making sure to stay aware of his surroundings just in case.

Then, he saw a shadowy figure near the middle of the cave, where Vanshiro had been. It looked like...a woman. Kyozuki. That surprised and worried him. Kyozuki didn't seem to be much of a fighter. What was she doing? Then he heard some sort of struggle, and saw Vanshiro fall. He realized that Kyozuki must have used her water on him. He was impressed.

He walked over to Vanshiro, making sure to nudge the man to test if he was really out cold. Once Masato was sure that he was, he bent down and retrieved his knives. Then he walked away and sat beside Kyozuki. "That was amazing," he said, smiling at her. "Good job."