brainrot central

Where she had once shattered the mirror in the Fire Nation's palace because she was being mocked by the ghost of a dead woman, now Ursa had found a new way to torment her daughter. A way Azula couldn't ever fully escape. Azula clenched the hairbrush so tightly her fingers threatened to tear apart the cheap tool - if her flames didn't melt it first. They'd send chi blockers in quickly, sure, but at leasst then… …at least then it still wouldn't do any good. For worse and for worse still, when Azula looked into the mirror - she was still her mother's daughter. Given the resemblance Zuzu and their father shared, she wondered if her brother felt so thoroughly doomed by his own reflection. Knowing that the best way to spite Ursa was to live - to try to fully live and to find a way out of this place one day - Azula kept going with the brush. It was only near the end when she first spotted it. Around the base of the smallest finger on her left hand. The same thin indention from her nightmares. The same thin indention of skin she'd recalled from the nightmarish memories of the Avatar. The depressed flesh had not been present the last time she had taken notice of her hands - where had this come from? Mirrored across dreams into reality, and from one hand to another, but banding her finger all the same. Had her mind finally slipped away from her? Had she hallucinated an entire fantasy around sleeping against something wrong? Aang would have answers. He'd better.