(DIS)HONORED

Adora’s smile softened; she could understand the sentiment he was explaining. Etheria had all sorts of interesting animals and fauna, but those creatures were something she hadn’t seen the likes of before. To know that he was of a similar view, at least on this topic, was nice.

“Same here! I mean, I’m used to seeing like… giant and deadly beasts that want to eat me, so I guess I’d prefer those little guys.”

Adora would have continued to prattle off in such a positive manner, but Zuko’s next set of words forced her to pause. He did have a point, but, Adora wasn’t sure if she had a fitting answer for him.

“Well, I…”

“… I guess I didn’t think it through. I just wanted to ride on one of these, and I saw you already setting off. I thought it would be better to go with someone rather than myself.”

She chuckled, awkwardly, unsure of what else to do amid the silence that ensued when she stopped talking.

“I don’t know about unpleasant– I mean, I don’t know you very well, so I don’t want to call you that…”

     He looks out across the lake as Adora speaks and it would appear that the prince is not paying much attention, but nothing could be further from the truth. Perhaps it was his apparent lack of consideration for others that got him in so much trouble back home, and why so many adults seemed to think of him as inadequate. "Yeah, I've seen my fair share of deadly beasts that could kill me," Zuko replies absently, his mind briefly wandering to the bounty hunter, June, and her well-trained shirshu. He continues to paddle them out across the water as Adora tries to explain herself, directing his attention back to the young woman. He cocks an eyebrow. I guess I didn't think it through. That much was obvious, but it would be highly hypocritical of him to imply that his actions were always well thought out. His time in the North Pole was a good example, actually.

     "Yeah? Well, if I were you, I'd get into the habit of being a little more discerning about who I'm getting into boats with. ...For all you know, I could be some crazy serial killer." Their eyes meet an there's an awkward beat of silence. That's probably not something you should say to someone you just met, in the middle of a rowboat on a lake, in a strange otherwordly city. "Uh, which I'm not, by the way..." How convincing.

For every ♪ in my inbox I'll post a song I listen to for character inspiration.

Jaymes Young // I’ll Be Good

     My past has tasted bitter      For years now      So I wield an iron fist      Grace is just weakness      Or so I've been told      I've been cold, I've been merciless      But the blood on my hands scares me to death      Maybe I'm waking up today

This song is definitely for when Zuko comes to terms with who he is and the fact that he’s made a lot of mistakes and hurt a lot of people in the process. I associate this song with the period in Book Three where Zuko is trying to get the Gaang to understand that he wants to help them. The quote that comes to mind is, Bu-But anyway, I'm good now. I mean, I thought I was good before, but now I realize I was bad.

For every ♪ in my inbox I'll post a song I listen to for character inspiration.

Mikky Ekko // Who Are You, Really?

     So you feel entitled to a sense of control      And make decisions that you think are your own This WHOLE song is a big mood for Zuko, but I associate the opening lyrics with the fact that he definitely feels entitled to being in control because of his status as royalty and he “makes decisions that he thinks are his own” by carrying out his father’s orders to capture the Avatar.

     Who, who are you really?      And where are you going?      I got nothing left to prove      'Cause I got nothing left to lose      See me bare my teeth for you      Who, who are you?

Zuko’s entire character arc is about self-discovery and losing his sense of identity, and at one point Iroh tells him point blank that he needs to decide for himself who he is and what he wants. I’m sure he also feels he has “nothing left to lose”, considering he’s been disowned until further notice and banished from his homeland. The symbolism of baring teeth is also *chef kiss*

     Now you're moving on and you say you're alone      Suspicious that this string is moving your bones      We are the fire, we see how they run      See how they run, lift me higher, let me look at the sun

     It was late; too late to still be awake. Then again, it wasn’t like Zuko had any real responsibilities in Spirale. He could stay awake until four in the morning and sleep into the late afternoon if he so desired. Still, he would prefer to be on some sort of schedule. The lack of structure and open-endedness of his current lifestyle was almost overwhelming; but he knows that even if he were to lay down, his mind was much too restless for sleep. Instead, he’s brewed a cup of tea -- chamomile -- and is sat cross-legged on his bed in front of the open bedroom window. The warmth from the cup seeps into his hands and it is familiar, soothing. Although, Zuko wishes his uncle were here to share it.

     He brings the cup to his lips and a small frown remains once the tea is lowered into his lap. He never could get the water-to-leaf ratio right like Iroh could. The trees outside are gently rustled as a warm summer breeze brushes past and through the open window. Zuko sighs quietly. Amber eyes stare distractedly out into the dark road, which is illuminated only by the occasional street lamp. Despite his best efforts, Zuko was starting to get… comfortable. It’s been over a month since he’s arrived on this strange island, and now he was starting to understand the complacency of some of the long-time residents. Even Zuko could only maintain his fiery determination for escape for so long before he fizzled out. Not that he was going to stop looking, but he wonders just how long he was going to be in this place. Truthfully, he was homesick, although he couldn’t pinpoint what for. Some semblance of normality, perhaps, as if his life back on that ship searching for the Avatar was “normal”. Maybe he’s just yearning for the normal he’s always fantasized about: his family back together, his father’s respect regained.

     He doesn’t want to think about this anymore. Zuko takes another sip of tea before setting the cup down on the bedside table, where it will stay until the following morning. His eyes drift downward to the cell phone that he’s found himself using more often these days. 12:43AM. The prince lays his phone down next to the cup of tea and stands to turn off the light, his path back to bed lit now only by the warm glow of street lamps that seep in from between the window’s blinds. Zuko collapses on top of the covers, facing toward the wall away from the light.

“Awe, don’t worry. If she shows up in this city, I’ll protect cute baby Zuko from his big bad sister.” 

Oh whoops. She called him by his first name by accident. If she kept making that mistake, he might think she actually cared. Catra trained every day in the horde, fighting is something that was beaten into her, but more than that she relied on her animal like instincts to fight. 

The chop lands, and Catra smiled because she drew him in close. She pivoted her whole body around and tried to hit him in the side with her foot while he was still close. She doesn’t  kick as hard as she could. 

If anyone accused her of being soft, she’d kill them but yeah…  Zuko was already beaten up pretty badly she didn’t need to beat him up worse. 

“So let’s make a bet. When I win, how about you tell me more about yourself. not that I care about your stupid, boring life but…” She obviously did if she was asking. “And if I lose… well, I’m not going to lose.” 

     Rolling his eyes, Zuko counters, "Oh, don't worry, if Azula shows up here, I'll be the first one to let her know that Catra thinks she can take her in a fight." The prince can only imagine how much his sister's presence would further complicate his life in Spirale. She was enough of a headache when they were at home, he certainly didn't need Azula on his case here, too.      Unfortunately, Zuko is too distracted with their banter and his own thoughts, and Catra lands the blow to his left side. She briefly knocks the wind out of him and he takes a few steps back, smirking.

     "Alright, I'll admit it, that was a good one..." He stands with his legs shoulder width apart, arms poised for defense. She obviously wasn't striking as hard as she could, but neither was he. After all, he didn't actually want to injure her -- this was all in good fun.

     teenager  thinks  himself  a  capable  man ,   an  unstoppable  force  able  to  rival  the  storms  with  sheer  will  power  alone .   it’s  a  laughable  notion ,   had  she  any  boisterous  humor  to  her  person .   instead ,   A.I  lifts  a  metal  hand  to  hover  by  her  mouth ,   veiling  away  a  quiet  chuckle .   while  there  is  ridicule  in  her  laugh ,   GLaDOS  eventually  quiets   &   remains ,   lets  the  silent  rage  chip  away   (  although  she won’t forget ,   will never forget .  )   &   finds  sport  in  the  remarks  of  an  emotionally  volatile  human .   when  her  hand  finally  drops ,   it  briefly  lands  upon  his  shoulder ,   her  lips  twitching  with  faint  amusement .

      ❝   ——————   oh ,   that’s great .   you certainly have some resolve ,   however unfounded it is with your capabilities .    ❞

      regardless  of  a  well  -  formed  plan  or  not ,   there’s  something  the  android  understands   &   finds  admirable  in  that  tenacity  the  teen  has ,   an  odd  fondness  she  possesses  over  the  pleasant  side  of  humanity  that  she  had  still  some  form  of  RESPECT  in .   she  removes  her  hand   &   cants  her  head ,   gifting  the  prince  a  set  amount  of  her  limited  consideration .

      ❝   while i’ve not the exact numbers yet ,   i can tell there are a good handful of people that also want to get out of here .   its not just you ,   no one has an idea of how to leave .   thus ,   i can calculate the odds of achieving that freedom to be a 1 in 10100 chance .   ❞

      it’s  a  much  slower   &   more  tedious  process  than  any  other  test  she’s  overseen  thus  far ,   but  she’s  figuring  bits   &   pieces  out  with  each  interaction  with  the  city   &   it’s  inhabitants .   it’s  only  a  matter  of  time  before  she’s  able  to  piece  together  a  coherent  picture ,   but  even  so ,   she  DOES  need  help   ——   others  who  shared  in  her  burning  anger  of  being  reduced  to  a  prisoner   /   a  joke .   more  than  simply  getting  to  leave ,   she  -  android  holds  that  all  consuming  desire  for  revenge .   

  ❝   ——————   so with that said ,   let’s say i stay out of your way .   aren’t you going to run about setting this island ablaze ?   once you’re feeling mature enough to stop being angry over nothing ,   maybe we can start using our WORDS instead .   what do you say ,   little delinquent ?   ❞

     Everything about this woman, from her tone of voice to the way she carries herself, is unnerving. Of course, it could be the blackness of what should be the whites of her eyes marked by the bright yellow irises that seem to peer into his soul. She isn't human, Zuko understands that much. She also seems to understand exactly how to pick and choose her words in such a way that will pluck at every nerve, though getting him riled wasn't exactly a difficult task. The prince huffs, brushing past GLaDOS, but stopping as he reaches the threshold of the room they currently share.

     "A 1 in 10,100 chance, huh?" Zuko repeats. Good thing he's always been one to defy the odds. It's not just him, though? As insufferable as this woman seems to be, she is certainly intelligent. Far moreso than himself, as begrudged as he was to admit such a thing. If he was going to find a way out of Spirale, she would be an invaluable asset, that he can already tell. Zuko can't help but snort bitterly at her mention of him running about to 'set the island ablaze'.

     "Everyone here is lucky that my firebending powers aren't what they used to be, otherwise I just might do that." A frown seems permanently etched into his features, and Zuko perks up slightly at what appears to be the woman indicating that she wants to make a deal. He turns around to face her once more, arms crossed. It takes nearly all of his energy to try and maintain composure, to not lash out at the idea that he is angry over nothing. He knows that, while his anger may often be misplaced, it was not for nothing.

     "What do I say?" Zuko cocks an eyebrow -- his only eyebrow -- incredulously. "If you're trying to make some sort of deal, I'm going to need you to lay out the terms in a way that isn't so cryptic." He shifts his weight impatiently. "Are you saying that you want to leave as well and that you need my help? Because from what I'm hearing, you think of yourself as more than capable." He briefly looks her up and down, feeling further rage flicker in his stomach at the sneering smirk that never seems to leave the android's features. He sighs again, directing his eyes to the floor.

Steven would too, no doubt. Being away from home was always supposed to be his own choice, packing up his own car with the essentials, leaving the sentimental things to various friends. He was supposed to drive away from the sunset on the beach horizon and towards a new destiny, where he wasn’t Steven Universe, the universe savior.

Here, it actually had the worse side of that. He didn’t even get to say goodbye, and here, it was no different than back home in terms of danger. The cool independence of living alone was constantly interrupted by whatever danger was popping up, and he’d have to use his powers to protect everyone. That gave him yet another unwanted hero complex.

“Duh, dude!” Steven chuckled incredulously, clutching at his gem and forcing a smile. “Me too, but don’t get me so worked up about it! I’ll cry!”

His anxious grin fell into one of true enthusiasm as they stepped inside. He’d always been too intimidated to come in here, instead just admiring the cool aesthetic from outside. In his pink clothes and unjaded worldview, he’d just never been ready.

Until now.

But as much as the loud music and angry teens piqued his interest, he gravitated towards something else first.

“Whoa, look at this!” Steven went to a display of bracelets that had spikes on them. He carefully took one and slipped it on his wrist. “It’s like a weapon!” He laughed.

“Hmm…” Steven had that question too. After all, it wasn’t often that he bought new clothes, what with his whole previous wardrobe being hand-me-downs, and all. Plus, he was too intimidated by the girl at the counter’s nose ring to ask her about fitting. 

He took one of the black hoodies he’d been admiring earlier and finally spotted what he was looking for. “There’s a dressing room! Just take a bunch of the same stuff in various sizes and go try it on!” Steven nodded towards the hoodies, wondering if he’d take black too.

     Zuko notes the brief moment of vulnerability between them as Steven presumably thinks about his own home, indicating a fondness for what he had left. He doesn't comment. I'll cry, says the younger boy, and Zuko doesn't doubt it. Steven does seem like the type to cry in front of a near-stranger.

     Soon enough, Steven's boundless excitement has returned and he beelines to an accessory stand, showing off the 'weapon'. Zuko stands there a moment and seems unsure how to respond to such enthusiasm. "Uh, yeah, I suppose it could be. It's definitely not as sharp as my swords, though." Speaking of such things, he still had no idea where his dao swords had gone. All he had now was a shoddy piece of wood in the shape of something akin to a sword.

     Zuko nods a bit in understanding as Steven explains how sizing and dressing rooms work. "Uh, alright... I'll be back, then." The two briefly part ways as the older teenager peruses the store. There are lots of shirts with graphics on them, but if it is in reference to anything, Zuko isn't sure what. He eventually gathers an armful of clothing and heads to the fitting room, only to poke his head out a few minutes later. "Hey, Steven!" he calls out, just loud enough to be heard over the music. He fully exits once he spots Steven, which is not hard given the bright pink jacket he's wearing.

     He's opted for a pair of black combat boots, dark-wash skinny jeans with the least amount of rips he could find (why would someone want holes in their pants, anyway?), and a hoodie-jacket combo that was just a tad too large. Zuko tucks his hands into the pockets of the outer jacket and he stands a bit hunched over.

Barry’s shoulders drop a little, relieved at how easily his help is accepted. That’s good. Now he’s actually got to do the helping part.

“Okay–alright, come up this way, you-you’re gonna be fine.” He gestures back towards the condo, leading Zuko up to his apartment. As soon as they’ve reached it, Barry opens the door and holds it for the kid to follow him inside, and then gestures for him to sit down on the couch.

He goes off to get a first aid kit and a few other supplies, washes his hands thoroughly, and returns to the living room. Then he sits down next to Zuko, and gets a closer look at his eye. God, has the burn been scratched through? Those wounds look fresher than the burn.

“H-How did you get–Uh–You don’t have to answer that. Just…” He opens a jar of antibiotic cream as he talks.

“I need to put this on your injury. I won’t lie; it’s probably gonna sting pretty bad for a minute, but it–it’ll help a lot with the healing process. Is that okay?”

     Initially, Zuko doesn’t move. A lot seems to be going through the boy’s mind and he is very much out of it, barely paying attention until Barry gestures for him to follow. He blinks, expression unchanging, and follows the older man into what he can only assume is his home. He sits when indicated, staring at the floor while the other man gathers supplies and washes his hands.

     Zuko seems to ignore the query as to how he sustained such an injury. “Do what you need to do.” He replies, amber eyes defensive, cold almost, glancing up briefly to meet Barry’s. The injured side of his face is mostly immobile due to swelling and inflammation, and less emotive. ...He isn’t sure why, but this man seems familiar. A sense of deja vu creeps over him, but Zuko brushes it off. Everything was so weird right now and he just didn’t have the time or energy to dig into why he felt this way.

     He closes both eyes, wincing as Barry presumably tries his best to be gentle while applying the cream. Zuko grits his teeth, trying not to scrunch up his face and make things more difficult than they need to be. He jumps unintentionally even when it’s not the injury being tended to, and Barry’s free hand carefully tilts his head to a better angle. The adrenaline from his street brawl has mostly worn off now and Zuko feels his arms and legs begin to tremble. He stiffens and his fists ball up in his lap in an attempt to quell the tremors, but Zuko knows that it is still obvious.

“I know everything about you. You’re not that deep.” 

Catra said, sounding utterly bored. That’s a lie of course. She’s pretending not to care about this person, and pretending hard, because deep in her chest where her heart is supposed to be she felt some lingering attachment. It was like an invisible thread pulling on her. She brought her claws up in the air to strike him, but the string tugged on her wrist, and stopped her.

She hesitated at the worst possible moment. She tasted ash and fire. She smelled burnt cat hair (not a nice smell). She’s used to this feeling. Everything exploding in her face. It’s so familiar and yet it hurts differently each time. She was blown back. She didn’t even try to guard herself, she faced the flames head on, and swallowed them (not really that would kill her). Her feet went over her head and she tumbled. She thrashed against the ground and bounced. 

Catra dug her claws into the ground to stop the world from spinning, and was dragged a few more inches before coming to a stop. She righted herself. It hurt. She didn’t like it when it hurt. She never liked it, the fighting, the violence, but she tricked herself into thinking she did. Catra smiiiiiiiiiiled. 

“Go ahead, then we can match.” 

Catra said, and then she clawed at the side of her face that matched his scar. She lowered herself to all fours looking ready to charge. 

Catra lunged towards him, claws first. She pounced the same way a lion would. She wanted to knock him to the ground and cause both of them to tumble. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I wanted to be this.You should blame the person that made me this way. I’m sure… you too… someone gave you a scar and made you like that.” 

     She’s crazy. She’s crazy, and he needs to get out of here. Zuko watches her body language more carefully, prepared now for the fight he’s gotten himself into. He tries to remember everything his uncle has taught him when it comes to facing a stronger opponent. Keep your eyes on their feet, evade, distract, escape. He grits his teeth when she taunts him, and although he knows her purpose is to rile him further, he can’t help but take the bait. “Shut up!” Zuko barks. His injured eye is squinted shut in pain, but luckily he is able to react more quickly this time when she lunges, ducking into a roll out of her way. 

     Zuko notes a nearby trash can, full of very flammable clutter. Without thinking too much into it, the young man pushes it over between them and extends his fist, shooting a small flame into the paper and waste. It lights with ease, and he hopes that the action will distract her long enough for him to escape. Despite the urge to stand his ground, Zuko knows this is a fight he cannot win. He turns tail and sprints for several feet down the road, ducking into an alleyway in an attempt to lose his attacker.

     He hopes that it isn’t a dead end -- she was surely faster than him and if he were to be cornered, he was doomed.

“Eh, part of it’s probably a terminology difference. People with innate power like yours would still call it magic, where I’m from! But it tends to be more versatile.” He nods along with Zuko’s explanation. “So there’s a somatic component to it? Maybe you can show me the motions sometime!”

The outburst surprises Barry, but the subject matter doesn’t. Heck, if he was less good at keeping things together, he’d probably be yelling every damn day. (The fire’s reaction is also… interesting.) When Zuko calms down, Barry puts a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, I get it. You can bet I’ll letcha know when I figure a way out of here.”

Oh. “Yeah, actually, it’s right up here,” he realizes, as they’re coming up on one of the doors. “…How near to here to you live? It’s pretty dark to be walking very far.”

     He isn’t totally sure how to feel about Barry’s overt enthusiasm, but he figures the other man just... really likes learning new things? “Uh, yeah, I could try to show you sometime if you want...” He sounds a bit reluctant -- he really isn’t sure what he can teach a nonbender about firebending, but... he seemed very willing to take on new information, so that had to count for something, right?      Zuko twitches involuntarily at the hand on his shoulder, but Barry has already stopped touching him before he has the chance to pull away. Somewhere deep down, part of him is thankful for human contact -- however brief -- but his instincts insist upon caution. As kind as this man seems to be, he is still a stranger. “Thanks.” It’s the only response Zuko is able to come up with in regards to Barry letting him know if and when he finds a way out of Spirale.

     The duo stop at the front door to the complex when Barry inquires how far Zuko has to go. He isn’t sure the exact distance, but he knows it isn’t close. “Uh, I think my apartment was in the... Fibonacci Ward?” Yes, that sounds correct. Zuko glances down the mostly empty street, the light of the fire in his hand reflecting in tired eyes. He shrugs. “I’ve made it this far, I’ll be fine.” Despite his words, Zuko seems reluctant to head out. Truthfully, he was extremely tired from all the walking this city required, and it was going to take at least another twenty to thirty minutes to get home.

@opprobriumed​

Well, waking up as himself is always a relief. At least, it is for the few moments before he thinks about going outside, and encountering whatever friends and family have gotten their traumatic pasts dragged into the present on this fine day.

It isn’t far at all before he sees a face he recognizes–or at least, a scar he does. Except it’s not exactly a scar yet. The huge burn mark covering the side of this kid (kid!!!)’s face looks recent, and it looks bad.

“Hey, uh,” he starts carefully, keeping himself at a nonthreatening distance from Zuko, because he’s been attacked by two family-members-turned-children already this week. “That’s–your eye looks like it–it needs treatment. I’ve got some medical supplies, if you want help…?”

     The past few hours have been hard on Zuko, that’s for certain. He’d argue just as hard, if not harder than sustaining this injury from his father and being banished from his homeland. Somehow, he managed to get away from that insane cat lady, and he’s just been running ever since. His lungs are burning, his legs tired, and eventually he slows down. She can’t still be following him, right? Another voice -- male, concerned -- comes gently from behind him. The young boy jumps and turns around, as if expecting another fight.

     He can’t even open his left eye, and looks the older man up and down critically. After all, how was he to know he wouldn’t be attacked again? Zuko’s breathing is ragged, and he props himself tiredly against a nearby railing. The man is offering medical assistance and he really isn’t in a position to refuse. His face hurts, which makes his head hurt. He can barely think straight, blinded by pain, anger, and frustration. Dried blood coats the scratch marks around his wrists and arms. Basically, he looks like hell.

It felt so good to be strong. To not be the weak one. That Catra almost forgot herself for once. What was she doing? Bullying a kid no duh, but she had come to this spot, and felt the need to make Zuko pay attention to her. She needed him to remember her like a scar on his face. She wanted to carve it into him, her fingers curled ready to, but she stopped herself. 

“You’re being so boring right now, like you don’t even know. Is this all you can do? Is this why you got the scar on your face, because you just sat there and took it instead of fighting back?” 

She was provoking him and she didn’t know why. She didn’t know about anything right now. She blinked but only with one eye as the other on the black half of her face was forced to stay open. She wanted to see him fight back, she wanted to see him be strong, because she saw herself in him both of them so obviously marked, both rejected. 

Her tail swayed in the air behind her. It curled around her waist and then fell on his face just to tease him. She started to dig into his wrist with her claws. Just a prick, enough to make it bleed. Catra was both bark, and bite, but she didn’t want to sink her teeth into this boy. Not just yet. She didn’t know why, perhaps she didn’t enjoy the taste of burnt meat. 

“Come on, fight back, take me out. Is this all your good for? If you’re going to die like this than you’re more pathetic then I thought, Kuzo!” 

Kuzo, who was… Kuzo?

Catra felt something in her heart for this person but she didn’t want to make friends, she wanted to scratch, and break something, and break the world. And she wanted most importantly to win for once. She couldn’t win if this kid wouldn’t even fight her. 

     He begins to struggle harder as he feels the pinprick of her claws against his skin, baring his teeth in both frustration and pain. He’s blind now -- in more ways than one -- with anger at her words, with fear, with his injured eye. Zuko begins to look more and more like a trapped animal, gone from flight to fight. He growls, “Don’t -- don’t act like you know anything about me--!” But she was right. He got this injury because he was too weak to do anything -- too weak to fight back against his father. Begging on his knees for mercy. Zuko knows now that mercy isn’t something you’ll be graced with simply because you beg for it. He didn’t want to be too weak this time. Whatever was happening, he needed to make it out alive.

    Kuzo. It was almost his name, like she was purposefully mispronouncing it. His eyes dart up and down as he searches her face. She certainly seems familiar, but he isn’t sure how or from where. While she also seems distracted, he is somehow able to free one of his arms from her grasp and instinctively directs his palm toward his attacker’s face. A small flame bursts forth, and the familiar smell of burning charcoal -- along with singed hair -- immediately assaults his senses. His flames seem less powerful than usual, but Zuko has no time to dwell on this as he scrambles out from under her and rights himself. Something compels him to stand his ground, to meet this strange and dangerous woman’s mismatched eyes.

     “It’s -- it’s Zuko!” He fires back at the mispronunciation of his name. Was that truly the only thing he could think to say in this moment? The banished prince feels himself slowly backing away from her. Every rational fiber of his being is telling him to run, to escape right now, but he’s not sure he can even if he wants to. She must be faster than him, right? “Listen--” The young boy is trying to sound intimidating again. “I don’t know what you are, where this is, or why I’m here, but back off! I’ll -- I’ll burn you again!” With what, Zuko? That pathetic display that you could barely call firebending?