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Hands being waved, bison being held back, lots of grunting, lots of displeased look towards the leemur. The sound wasn’t pleasant, yes, but he wanted attention!

Knock it off! The leemur tilts his head. Why? All he did was to get Aang’s attention. Was he not supposed to use the tiny whistle? Did he do bad? Still confused, Momo takes off, flying to sit on the bald monk’s shoulder as he drops him the whistle. Mumbled chatters come bubbling from the leemurs snout as if to ask for forgiveness. No more whistle! Did he do good now?

    Once positive Appa’s grumpiness had subsided—or just lessened so he was no longer considering lemur on his snack menu—Aang relaxed enough to watch the offender swoop in with a series of puzzled chitters. He accepted the whistle with a smile, closed it away in his fist while his other hand rose to scratch behind Momo’s ear. “It’s okay, buddy.” Reassurance, as he was pretty sure he recognized some sheepish apologies in those mannerisms. “You were just trying to get my attention, weren’t you?”

A weight heavier than the world on one’s shoulders settled in then. A slow, but dawning realization of what Aang feared — truly terrified of having repeated again and again like it did many times before — appeared in Teresa’s eyes. Though they remained upon the stars hanging above like chandeliers, an emotion akin to contrition shielded her green irises.

Oh. Oh.

The smile she brought forth to ease Aang’s worry steadily fell, restricted to contemplation. Still in thought, trying to imagine how to proceed with this new found realization. How to approach it in a way that wouldn’t scare him, or worse, force him to close up. She couldn’t do that to him. Nor could she leave him in silence after such an urgent plea. When she was in his shoes, she would feel the same about silence. Silence was terrifying on its own.

“Actually, I—“ A brief pause as she gently went to sit up, looking down where he watched with such worry and hesitation. She wanted to fulfill his wish - the small request of creating something of their own together to heal the wound she didn’t realize she placed, to smile again and pretend that nothing was wrong when all their worries remained unspoken through words of support and kindness - but they needed to discuss this first, before anything else.

Just how long did he feel so much hurt? Was it hurt she could have prevented had she stayed? Not all of it…but maybe enough where he wasn’t feeling scared now. Her hands lifted for a moment to reach for the scarf in her hair, but later decided to leave it in for now. Just for now.

And she realized, then, that she didn’t know what she could tell him to still his worries, the guilt that ate at him. The guilt that may CONTINUE to eat at him, long after these days have passed. It wasn’t easy to soothe it down. It never was. She should know — it was the same guilt she felt after hearing the news of his supposed demise, how she could have been there in Ba Sing Se. A circumstance that was near impossible, yes, but she still would have done anything to help him, to help him so he no longer carried such a heavy spirit in such a young heart—

“…Aang.” A tone gentler, hushed enough not to startle him. Shakily, she released a tender exhale, willing the fire within her core to warm her being as the back of her fingers reached to rest upon his temple, a gentle presence. For him to find comfort in the strength she prayed would come through for his sake, and her own to press on through a tough conversation. It was always tough, but for Aang, she would respect him and approach this seriously. She wouldn’t hide her own fears behind a smile, nor would she ignore his own. Let this bring him solace, so he wouldn’t feel responsible for something he wasn’t the cause for. “Was this how you felt all this time? Were you scared we would never see each other again?”

    Monkey feathers.     This wasn’t what he wanted.

    Aang had hoped, in some way, to dispel the discomfort twisting knots in both stomach and chest. Silently, he had been giving himself the reassurance he needed: a meditative reminder that everything was okay and he could breathe again if he only let himself. But somehow, no matter the amount of times his friends threw themselves into danger to help him, the sickening feeling never got any better. He didn’t want to feel guilty. And deep down, that voice of reason was telling him he didn’t have to. None of this was his fault.

    To think that such crippling remorse had once been so much thicker a poison… Gradually, bit by bit, and with the teachings of Guru Pathik, the Avatar was accepting the idea that the weight of the entire world wasn’t on his shoulders. He was accepting that the war wasn’t on him. That he hadn’t failed. That the hardships and heartbreaks his friends went through weren’t something he could change or fix, but strive to simply be there for them no matter the cost.

    Just like they were here for him.

    So why could he still sit here, someone he held so very near to his heart alive and well and safe alongside him, and feel paralyzed as if that poison had crept back in—? Jeez, had he learned nothing?

    She spoke to him softly—in that tone of hers that felt like a warm blanket tucking him to bed. His frustration toward himself and his lingering worry toward her stunted another exhale, and Aang tried his best to keep a stitch from bunching his brows. The hands tucked to his chest twitched feebly into slackened fists at the same time as her fingers drifted over his temple.

    A flutter of his eyelids. Another measured breath chipped away at his despair. One little bit at a time.

    “Shouldn’t I be sc—” Aang swallowed the word and replaced it. “—worried?” Energy (and a negative sort) hummed in his core, made his legs fidget like they wanted to move—maybe to run. But he’d always been good at that, and he forced himself now to stay. “Any ‘goodbye’ could be the last, couldn’t it? I didn’t know what they’d done to you, where you even were before Zuko…” 

He couldn’t say he’d exactly been expecting the flying lemur that came chasing after his familiar. After all, it had sounded like Archie had attracted more problems than just an agitated animal. As startling as it was, Douxie himself taking a step back to throw his hands up in front of his face in case the offended lemur decided to go for the eyes, the centuries-young wizard was quick to recover from his shock.

At least.. until the other party involved had made himself known, and- Wait. Wind didn’t typically move like that on its own. Had the boy just used magic? But.. there hadn’t been any runes, or.. any evidence other than the abnormal shift in the air. As explanations and apologies were offered, though, Douxie brushed the thought aside and settled into a more relaxed stance, despite the.. still agitated lemur in the boy’s arms.

“No harm done.” He answered, waving a hand almost dismissively before said hand moved to gently pet the fur of Archie’s chest. “Honestly, I should probably be apologizing for Archie instead. He didn’t mean to cause any trouble, and..” A chuckle, a smile playing across Douxie’s face. “He’s got his own mind too, much like your friend there.” As if to emphasize his point, Archie’s long tail slapped along the side of Douxie’s head, the feline-formed familiar giving his wizard a rather indignant look, but Douxie only smiled, now gently catching hold of his old friend’s tail and running it between his fingers.

“Don’t give me that look, Arch. You know you’re just as opinionated as..” A brief pause to remember the name of the lemur. “As Momo there.” A paw batting at him now, and again, Douxie could only smile.

“Really, though. He came back so fast I thought he’d run into some kind of monster out here.” He turned his full attention back to Aang now, his smile never faltering. In the back of his mind, he was still nervous, and still trying to puzzle out this boy’s magic.. trying to read his energies to see, but.. “I’m glad it turned out to be a better encounter than that though. Name’s Douxie, by the way, and you’ve met Archie. So.. you got a name I can call you?”

    Aang exhaled a small breath of relief: both for the stranger’s forgiveness (and recovery proving any initial startle had dissipated) and his offended lemur gradually calming the longer he was held still. Eventually, Momo slackened, back legs dangling freely as a new curiosity claimed him—over something Aang himself likely hadn’t noticed (focused on the conversing human instead). Because the feline nested on the other boy’s shoulder now definitely didn’t have wings. Just like Appa. But took flight even still—

    Momo’s ears flicked inquisitively along with his tail. And as he drooped further in Aang’s arms, the airbender hoisted him up in a readjusted grip. “It’s no big deal! Archie didn’t actually hurt anyone,” Aang said, returning the gesture. “We can’t all be graceful all the time.” His grin widened, and he loosened his hold experimentally to see if his companion had settled.

    When Momo simply mirrored the other pair—climbing up onto his respective shoulder with a backward look at the strange cat again—Aang figured that meant they were in the clear.

    Readily, he nodded at the introduction. “I’m Aang! No monsters here, so you shouldn’t have to worry too much.” As far as he knew. “Except for maybe just some wildlife; but animals can usually be reasoned with—or… convinced, I guess. From my experience.” Shoulders rolling in a shrug, the Avatar’s attention petered off like he expected some swarm of wolfbats to burst from the canopy.

    —and only then realized the exact thing his lemur was still contemplating.

─── ❝ I am. I am sure.❞ The words are still heavy on her lips, despite how much she knows she has to speak them, or maybe because of that… Ever since they were little, Ty Lee had been loyal to Azula, done anything she wanted because she was too scared to say no. Had she just distanced herself sooner─ No! Had she not been, at the Boiling Rock, Azula would have hurt Mai!

She listens to Aang, but she couldn’t agree. It might be true that she did not owe Azula an apology or an explanation, but the world. ❝ I know what Azula did was wrong but… I was too scared to do anything… but that’s not an excuse. I can’t just talk myself out of this, I can’t simply run away from this Aang… ❞

Only actions could make up for actions. To atone for her past, she had to actively shape the present, and the future, for the better. ❝ I took part in this war, so it’s my responsibility to make up for what I did, and mine alone. I can’t rely on others, on the Avatar, to fix my mistakes… ❞

    Aang admired her.     He admired her a lot.     Because it wasn’t easy, everything she had done to come this far: the people—the friends—she had to betray to do what she felt was right. Aang himself had the luxury, on that front, of those he held dear supporting him and his cause through thick and thin, minor arguments and grievances aside. From the beginning, Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph, Suki—and, with some convincing, Zuko—all fought for the sake of bringing back peace: together, side-by-side, leaning on each other for strength when they desperately needed it, and even when they didn’t.     But Ty Lee—? One of her closest friends, and someone she had known since she was a child turned out to be the one person she had to stand against. The person she had to use her strength to deny—to set up in flames the bond they had forged and fortified for so many years. Gosh… Aang couldn’t even imagine; his fleeting quarrels with Zuko (even with Katara!) were devastating enough—and they always recovered, learned to respect each other’s ideas even if they weren’t precisely the same.

           After putting down the little Avatar, all Ning could do was smile as her jubilation showed no signs of stopping. He wanted proof, right? She could easily show him. At this point, she kept a swatch of the dyed cloth on her. From her little pouch she retrieves it, a very shiny, almost crystal like blue.

          “They like tha color cause in certain ligh’s, an’ on certain fabrics, tha way i’ moves looks like water ta some o’ ‘em. Say i’ adds a flare o’ elegance ‘er somethin’ like tha’.”

           Holding out the fabric for Aang to see of his own volition, she gives a bit of a small stretch. “People still think I’m off my rocker, so business ain’ boomin’. Bu’ this def did ge’ more people in tha door! Only catch is I can make accen’s fer clothes. No’ whole garmen’s. Tha’ requires more dye than I can make a’ once.“

    The excited, joyous energy hummed loud between them: shared smiles and expressions of elation effectively setting a bright mood that’d take a thousand stormclouds to ruin. Aang’s face-splitting grin only shifted to pure wonderment when Ning produced the piece of fabric for his pleasure, and a quiet flick of his gaze to hers granted him the permission he needed to gingerly take it. He turned it over in his fingers. And he watched how the light danced off the blue—reminding him, exactly as she had described, of the way the sun hit the water just right.

@virtusdemonte​ said: “There’s the flying bison, do you see it?” Teresa decided to give Aang a little lesson for the stars tonight while both were restless from the day’s event. The Western Air temple was perfect for stars when above the temples themselves, plus she felt it was due that they caught up at last, since she was only rescued by the boy she could consider her own son a day ago. The soreness of her limbs proved it, but that wouldn’t sway her from climbing up to show him the view. Still, she laughed upon recalling a memory, looking over to him. “When I first saw Appa, I could have sworn that he was a constellation come to life.”

    To say that he was tense around her... was an incredible understatement.     No bad feelings toward her—no, never; he could never be mad at her for anything, Aang was sure—but having lost her time and time again, having to say “goodbye” to her in so many different ways, both bittersweet and just entirely bitter... Aang would never get used to it. Just like he’d never get all those visions out of his head: the torment she went through for her sacrifice, and how if he had only been stronger, then maybe he— Maybe she never would’ve suffered as much as she did.     But here she could sit so calmly, cheerfully, actually laughing after everything and... Was it wrong that the Avatar couldn’t be more grateful? She was okay. She was okay. No matter what happened, what she went through, what she’d continue going through for his sake— She would be okay. So then why was it so hard to not cringe each time he saw her scarcely flinch? Why did he feel his gut knot when the smallest flash of residual pain furrowed her brow? Why couldn’t he relax, if even just for a moment, knowing she was here by his side again: knowing that now, he absolutely had to keep her safe.     He would.

The elven captain’s ears twitched and flicked forward and back, as he contemplated exactly which question to ask. He.. hadn’t exactly expected to be given such an immediate invitation, but..

“Well, I suppose.. I don’t mean to be rude if this, perhaps, comes across as such, but..” A pause to check his compass, and the pressure gauges and altitude. “I am curious about those tattoos of yours. Are those a cultural practice? Or a personal choice?” The flick of a switch here, the shift of a lever there, a tug upon a cord hanging nearby, and a soft turn of the wheel to keep them on course. Flying his airship was second nature to him, could be done without thought, but Aang… Aang was a puzzle to him he hadn’t quite figured out so well.

    Tempted as the curious little bender was, he knew to avoid touching any of the levers Cassius flicked and pulled with mindless, innate expertise—in particular fighting an urge to tug on the rope hanging nearby. Aang just watched the cord swing after the captain yanked it himself, then dutifully perked at his first question: a good distraction from wanting to play with what he shouldn’t. Luckily, he had only his own restraint to worry about; Momo was curled into a ball napping nearby. Not causing problems for a bit.

    “Oh—! It’s…” Like this was news to him, Aang peered over the blue arrows on the backs of his hands, eyes trailing the line where they disappeared beneath his sleeve. “Yeah, a cultural thing. Airbenders get it when they complete all tiers of airbending! It comes with a ceremony and it’s—w-well, it was...” He fumbled briefly, expression faltering. But, swiftly, Aang shook his head to recover. “It’s important to my people.”

@gamenu​ said: Aang gets the BIGGEST of hugs. Talking bout the kind that lifts the little Avatar off his feet and swings him around. Looks like his big sis is super happy today! "Aang! Those flowers ya brough' me? I used some ta make a new dye. I's a big hit! A lotta tha passerby ladies love i'!"

    And as much as he loves hugs, even the surprise at receiving this one isn’t enough to dampen his spirits—startled little squeak aside...

   He bends his legs with the movement, erupts into a short fit of laughter before falling still and finding his footing again. “Wow, really?” Aang chirps. The shuffle to pull away is only so he can look at her—and maybe loop his arms around her in turn. “That’s great! I knew you’d put them to good use, and the more people walking around with stuff made from your dye—? The better!”

“NO. IT’S MERELY THE TRUTH. ULTIMATELY, YOU CAN CALL ME WHATEVER YOU LIKE, BUT IT WILL NOT CHANGE A THING.  CONVINENT, IT IS, TO SEEK THE TRUTH, THE LOGIC THAT WINDS THROUGH THIS WORLD, BUT IT’S NOT ALWAYS THAT EASY.”

But if that’s the game they were going to play; he inclined forward.

“HOW DOES ONE DEFINE EXISTENCE?  TO THINK, IS TO EXIST?  PERHAPS?  MUST ONE BE REMEMBERED TO EXIST?  IF THE ENTIRE WORLD WOULD SUDDENLY FORGET YOUR NAME–

“THEN, WOULD YOU EXIST?

“IF YOU WALK THE LINES THAT SEPARATE ONE WORLD FROM THE NEXT…

“THEN, WOULD YOU EXIST?” 

    For something that apparently wasn’t a riddle, it was getting an awful lot more puzzling the longer this stranger went on. By now, Aang felt he was being tested: except he couldn’t for sure tell if the “nonexistent” entity in front of him wasn’t just… really, really confused. Or bored—? Unsurprisingly, reading any sort of expression was another glaring problem by itself.

    A hand skimmed back over his head before settling on his nape, perplexion painting his look. “I… don’t know. I guess I never really thought about it like that,” Aang offered amid a shrug. But he didn’t leave it there, and his gaze went sidelong in deeper thought. “Well, you do exist because I know you, now. You exist to me, right? Like you said; I’ll remember you. And memory doesn’t need a name. Actually—!”

It was so BEAUTIFUL – the way that people could make thewater move; how easily they could put still earth in MOTION; howthey could warm the world with fire; and how they could make theflowers and the trees dance with air. It never failed tocaptivate the child, and she often wondered what it felt like tohave magic like that. That’s what it was, right? People who coulddo extraordinary things like that were more magical than, say, someone like her!But Ari wasn’t saddened by that thought, for her curiosity about thepeople that could do this was much greater than any feeling of INFERIORITY. 

Now, she stands in front of the only person who could do it all,and her excitement is difficult to contain. The bounciness in hermovement, however, begins to slow down as Aang speaks, her eyes widened and asbright as the SUN as she listens carefully to what he says. “aaa … Aang is the c – coolest person ever! I … I like the peoplewho can m – m … mmm … move aaaall the things … they have m – magic intheir hands! ” as Ari explains her feelings, she holds herlittle hands up to show Aang, wiggling her fingers as she does so. “ a… and Aang has the m – most - est magic! " 

When Aang makes mention of his friends, there is a brief moment inAri’s mind where she thinks about what they might be like. Arethey KIND like him? Oh, they sound very much so … ! Certainly,they must be, with the way he talks about them and how it brings a smile to hisface. Ari knows those feelings – she gets a smile when she thinks of heranimal friends, too! ” I … I bet Aang’s frrr … frrr— Aang’s friendsare veeeery nice, too … I … I would like it v – veeeery much if Icould m – meet them … on a day. “ What she means is, ’someday ’. 

Emerald hues watch as Aang lowers himself to match her height, hereyes following his hand as it reaches out for hers – is it going to feel cold?Air is cold, right? Or … will it feel lighter thanother hands? Then again, Ari can’t really remember what ’ otherhands ’ might feel like. But the chaotic wonder in her mind is quenchedwith he takes hold of her little hand, and it feels … so much more like thewarmth of a COOKIE! Oh, but the offering that follows the shakedraws her attention away from all that, for what he mentions is far moreexciting …

” Aang wants me to he … help? “Ari repeats. She takes an eager step forward,nodding along with the words that follow. ” I … I www … would like tohelp Aang v – very much! yes, plll … please! “

    Well, this was probably the first time Aang heard his talents described in such a way—the “mostest magic,” she called it (and how adorable was that?)—but he also couldn’t really fault her. It wasn’t… incorrect, just—Let’s just say Aang wouldn’t introduce himself quite like that, given the chance. Pulling the “Avatar” card in general did enough as it was; he typically tried not tooting his own horn unless to prove a point.

    But, sheepish as she made him (what with the extra color dusting over his cheeks again), his smile didn’t yet relent. He soaked in her luminous spirit, patiently followed the threads of stunted words while she wove her sentences together. Then, with an enthusiastic nod, “They’d love to meet you too, Ari! I already know it—and when I tell them how helpful you were to me? They’re going to be way impressed.” This, he was sure of, and Aang’s tone brimmed with confidence. “Promise.”

    He delivered a wink that was as friendly as it was playful, and when a fresh wave of eagerness scooted her closer, his grin widened even more. “I knew I could count on you,” Aang said, pinning her with an earnest look before rising back to his full height again. His hand hovered behind her head: a small gesture to steer her forward. “Let’s start with the most important thing first, since I know you can handle it.”

“Avatar…?”

Ingvar furrowed his brows. The word may as well have been as unfamiliar to Ingvar as was the word external capital. The Avatar, now, that sounded like something terribly important. So, then, how had he never heard of it…? Could it be that he had left one land for another, one arbitrary boundary for another, and in so doing entered a land in which this person, the Avatar, whatever that was, was a title which meant something?

“I am… terribly sorry, Sir Avatar,” Ingvar bowed his head, believing for now that perhaps Avatar was like the title Prince or King, “But– I am not… being a spirit. Or… if I am being such thing, then… I am not knowing of it. All that I knowing is that I am being a giant who was given Gift,” he gestured to the plants all around them, “by the Goddess, She who was creating the green earth and floras and faunas. Is that answering your question…?”

    Aang, excitable and eager as he was to be making this new friend—regardless of just what he happened to be—had until now wholly forgotten knowledge of an “Avatar” didn’t actually extend to every corner of the world. In the Four Nations, no explanation was necessary (especially when discretion happened to be the best route, anyway), but the way this stranger repeated it, puzzlement written across his face, Aang had to wonder... How far off course did that storm send him—?

    At the same time as the giant contemplated what proved to be a foreign title, Aang scanned his surroundings. He scrutinized the trunks of every tree, the birds nestled in their branches, the dappled sunlight streaming through the leaves. Momo chittered in his ear, and the young airbender murmured an “I think so too” before turning back to their new companion.

    —only to see him somewhat bowing with a reverence that took Aang by complete surprise. With impressive haste, he sheepishly waved him off. “N-no, don’t apologize! You don’t have to... It’s fine! I, uhh... I'm the one who might actually be a little lost, so.” Not that it seemed to alarm him too terribly, in truth. Barely a second passed and he was already beaming again with uninhibited curiosity.

“GIVE OR TAKE A HUNDRED?”

An interesting way to put it.  In fact, Gaster would describe his own age similarly:  “YOU COULD CALL ME A FEW HUNDRED, GIVE OR TAKE A THOUSAND.”

Or, well, if time even existed in his state.  Being outside of time was somewhat his primary…

Problem.

“I CAME FROM NOTHING.  I DO NOT EXIST.”

    Okay, definitely a spirit.     —which worked out great for Aang, so he wasn’t bothered!

    Reflecting his new companion’s movement, the airbender too canted his head off to the side and tracked what he could discern was... maybe a face—? With pursed lips and an arched brow, he contemplated his words. (And also very quickly reminded himself how annoyingly cryptic some spirits had to be; less great, now.)