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Hello! Tiny little cutting room floor bits from Chapter 36 of 'Nation of...', read below the cut! Mild spoilies.
I think the words you're looking for are 'Thank you Sokka and Suki':
“What happened?” Zuko asked. Their friends leaned in to hear in a way Katara wished they wouldn’t.
“We fought. He believed in the play more than I guess I expected. Then he told me if he hadn’t blocked his chakra…” Katara trailed off, gossiping to their friends wasn’t going to do any good. “Gah!” She exclaimed and threw her head into her hand with a groan. “This isn’t how I wanted to explain everything to him.”
“Yeah speaking off some of the elements of that play…” Sokka dropped his gaze to Zuko, then pinged over to Katara. “How much of that was accurate.”
“Er-” Zuko hesitated. Katara glared at her brother.
“Well I’ve never walked around with ‘property of the Fire Nation’ written on my ass or owned an ‘I heart Prince Zuko’ blouse, so I think that answers your question Sokka.”
“Oh but you do now!” Suki beamed, grin leeching mischief. She flung her arms forward and dangled a tidy red paper sack from her fingers. “We’re not suggesting you also do the whole dehumanising labelling of your body parts thing though. That was distasteful.”
Katara unhooked the swaying bag from Suki’s fingers and brought it into her lap. Her stomach still churned.
The paper bag crinkled as she peered inside. She scowled up at everybody when she saw the neat folded top nestled inside.
“Sersiously?” Katara shoved her hand into the bag and produced a fistful of her very own ‘I heart Prince Zuko’ blouse in front of the group, an official little Ember Island Playhouse logo stamped on the cuff. Sokka snickered into his fist, shoulders bouncing. “Who’s idea was this? Did you let them do this?” She accused Zuko.
“They’re selling them at the commissary.” Suki chuckled. “And since you do, well, ‘heart’ Prince Zuko. We thought it would be kind of us to make sure you're dressing in your truth.”
Katara lifted up the blouse and let it drop out in front of her in all its horrible, badly embroidered, glory. Despite herself the corner of her mouth twitched up and a refreshing smudge of ease laxed the rope constricted around her chest. She turned her waist and shoved the shirt playfully against Zuko, her fingers pressed into his chest through the fabric of his cloak and tunic. Even the smallest touch seemed to be a relief to her.
“And you seriously didn’t stop them?”
“I didn’t know.” A wan smile, somewhat both worried and contented at the same time, lolled over his face. He obviously wanted to talk more about Aang but like her, Sokka and Suki provided a lightening distraction. The corners of his mouth tipped up, almost cheekily. “But I’m not exactly protesting.”
“Territorial oaf.” Katara rolled her eyes and nudged him with her shoulder, her heart doing a pleasant flutter as she folded up the cotton. “I’m never wearing this.” She warned Zuko. “Not until they’re making I heart Master Katara ones too and you all buy one.” A thought occurred to Katara as she set the shirt down on her lap. “I can’t believe they’re even selling these.”
Sokka grimaced and scratched the back of neck. “We asked the concession attendant the same thing, turns out the writer’s daughter-in-law runs the textile enterprise which manufactured the blouses for your boyfriend’s former fanclub.” Sokka snorted. “This way they can make a profit off of otherwise dead-stock.”
“Because everybody wants Zuko dead now.” Toph chirped. “Not us though! But they do also want all of us dead too…”
“Toph,” Suki frowned. “But hey, at least people seem to be liking the story!”
Katara made a face. “It’s not exactly the most flattering of renditions Suki.” “I don’t see why this thing is getting so much foot traffic.” Toph interrupted. “As someone who lived through the source material it’s a load of bleh. If this is what sells I might have to write my own life story. ‘The Impossibly Awesome Adventures of Toph!’. I bet I’d outsell this romantic dramedy crap.”
Hina (age 7, Fire Nation) On Imperial Xenophobia, Dressing Up as Warrior Princesses, and General Anti Katara Nonsense
“Guys shh,” Suki elbowed Sokka.
Katara’s eyes slipped in the direction of Suki’s nod and saw Aang.
He scuffed his boots against the playhouse carpet as he pottered up the corridor, fiddling with the slouchy hat on his head. Katara sat up a little straighter as he headed for the five of them. Between all the patrons and audience members she couldn’t find a clear path to make eye contact with him but from the slow pace of his walk he seemed to be lost in his own flood of thoughts.
A young family with two small daughters, about seven and nine, and bickering something mighty, were thrust into Aang’s path when, with a forceful shove, the younger of the two girls pushed her sister to the floor and at Aang’s feet.
Her sister dressed in, now Katara could see her, a red but a bastardised water tribe style dress. The cut thankfully much more modest than the flimsy thing Katara wore on stage.
The shorter sister locked her hands on her hips and grinned down at her defeated elder. Aang stopped in his tracks, interrupted.
“Haha! I win! I get to be Princess Katara and marry Prince Zuko! You lose!”
“Hina! That’s unfair! You pushed me!”
“Girls stop!” A Mother’s firm hand yanked back the taunting girl by the collar of her dress. The taller sister clambered back to her feet and brushed off her knees as her Mother reprimanded them. “Stop talking like that! And take your hands off your sister. We’re at the theatre! Neither of you are marrying that shame on our Nation.” The Mother tutted. “He’s a disgrace and she’s a peasant savage.”
Katara recoiled. The sisters glanced bashfully at each other then their toes.
Aang suspended himself a step behind them, his face open and churning as he processed.
An outlandish sensation scrambled through Katara, a reaction she didn’t quite know how to label. She cocked her head.
‘Peasant savage’ wasn’t nice to hear, neither was hearing Zuko be called a disgrace, wanting to be Katara only to marry a Prince also rubbed her the wrong way… but these little girls still who saw Katara only through heavily propagandised trash, or heard of her in second, third, fourth, hand whispers still wanted to be her? Her? A foreign interloper in their territory threatening the fabric of their very way of life.
All of the evening began catching up to Katara. A crashing exhaustion swept over her.
“It’s fine Mum, let Hina be the waterbender, I’m too old to play Warrior-Princesses anyway, I want to be the fan-girl!”
“Awh,” Suki put her hand on her chest. “Kids want to -”
“Ewww but then you have to kiss the weird meat guy!” Hina squealed over her sister.
“At least I still get to be a warrior, and I don’t have to kiss a traitor!” The older sister spat.
“Waterbending splat!” Hina shoved her palm out at her older sister and ran away giggling.
Katara’s heavy eyes trailed back up to Aang as the sisters broke free of their parent’s legs and chased after each other, the one pretending to be Suki threatening to ‘feed her her fans’ upon capture.
Aang’s face hung open. He’d watched the same exchange as their rest of them had and now the parents were approaching him and apologising profusely for the behaviour of their children breaking their line of eye contact.
Mini-not Suki whizzed past where the rest of the group were gathered against the wall of the hallway. She opened her hands like fans and trilled as she scampered by. When Katara turned her head back to Aang he was staring at the lot of them with a look so complicated his grey eyes appeared almost hollowed out.
His throat worked. He dipped his gaze to Katara and Zuko sat side by side. Katara held her breath and finally, finally, Aang returned her eye contact. Maybe she could work out what he was feeling, if she’d gone too far, the chance of reconciliation…
Aang turned around and let the crowd swallow him back up.
Katara deflated against the stiff wall behind her. The firmness of the wooden floorboards under the carpet were beginning to dig into her behind. She figured she deserved the discomfort and welcomed the nagging ache.
Rushing footsteps thumped down the corridor. The two sisters stopped directly in front of Katara and Zuko, waiting for their attention.
“You know your Prince and Waterbender costumes are pretty good but you're missing your hair loopies,” Hina said, making little rotations at her temples.
“And Zuko’s scar is on the other side,” The older sister pointed out before speeding away. “Bye!”
Strangers you meet in Playhouses with Suspicious Hairdressing Abilities
Katara felt the need to cover for him with the little girls this close. “This is my boyfriend… Zaff, you’re right his scar is on the wrong side but that’s because his is real too. Just like Prince Zuko,”
“That’s cool!” Hina beamed.
“How did he get it?”
Katara hummed and continued with Hina’s other hair loopy. A little afraid of the consequences but she doubted they needed to sit through the rest of the show, they’d be out of here soon enough.
“He got it by being very brave,”
“You guys really look just like them. You’ve got big blue eyes and you’re really pretty and he’s got a scar!”
“Well thank you, maybe we should audition for the players tour,” Katara giggled.
The girls eyes brightened. “Please do! Please do! If you do get us tickets! All the kids at summer school want to go but their parents won’t let them! You’d make us sooo cool!”
Katara laughed off Hina’s babble and fixed the final strands in place. She exhaled and took in her handiwork, smiling at the little girl.
“All done,” Katara slapped her knees.
Hina did a little twirl around to show her sister who eyed Katara up and down.
“Where did you learn that?” The older sister cut in. Brown eyes narrowing.
“I met her, Katara, she taught me.” Katara grinned, playing bold. “She came to my village once in a disguise and I was having a bad time with my hair and she showed me. At least,” Katara made a show of tapping her chin as if in deep consideration of her memories. “I think it was her, she was travelling with a bald boy but who knows.”
Hina threw her head up and down, nodding enthusiastically, while her sister squinted at Katara a little bit closer, then relaxed and sighed deeply.
“That’s cool, nothing interesting ever happens in our village,” She lamented and took her sister’s hand. “Well, thanks for showing us,”
Amazing fanart by Joanacchi! Posted here on tumblr with their blessing. Each one is based on a style that reflects a particular ancient culture's art history. (See below for descriptions provided by the artist!)
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Aang: Tibetan Thangka
"Thangkas are traditional Tibetan tapestries that have been used for religious and educational purposes since ancient times! The techniques applied can vary greatly, but they usually use silk or cotton fabrics to paint or embroider on. What you can depict in a Thangka is really versatile, and I wanted to represent things that make up Aang as a character."
Zuko and Azula: Japanese Ukiyo-e
"Ukiyo-e is a style that has been around Japan between the 17th and 19th century, and focused mainly in representing daily life, theater(kabuki), natural landscapes, and sometimes historical characters or legends!
Ukiyo-e was developed to be more of a fast and commercial type of art, so many drawings we see are actually woodblock prints, so the artist could do many copies of the same art!
I based my Zuko and Azula pieces on the work of Utagawa Kuniyoshi (1798-1861) one of the last ukiyo-e masters in Japan! He has a specific piece which featured a fire demon fighting a lord that fought back with lighting, and that really matched Zuko and Azula's main techniques!”
Toph: Chinese Portraiture from Ming and Qing Dynasties
"Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) was one of the longest in China! It was also a period where lots of artistic evolutions were happening, especially when it comes to use of colour! There was not a predilection for portraits during this time, but there are a lot of pieces depicting idealized women and goddesses from the standards of the time. For this portrait of Toph, I imagined something that maybe their parents commissioned, depicting a soft and delicate Toph which we know is not what she is about ♥️
Qing Dynasty (1644-1912) was the last Chinese Dynasty to reign before the Revolution. One of the most famous emperors of this period was Qianlong, and he really liked Western art! He commissioned a lot of portraits of his subordinates, and I chose a portrait of one of his bodyguards as a reference for the second Toph portrait, which I believe is much more like how she would want to be represented! The poem on top talks about the bodyguards' achievements during a specific war. I had no time to come up with a poem for Toph, so I just used the same one for the composition!”
Sokka and Katara: Inuit Lithograph
"For a long time, Inuit art expressed itself in utilitarian ways. The Nomadic lifestyle of early Inuit tribes played a huge part in that: most art pieces are carved in useful tools, clothing, or children's toys, small and easy to be transported, and depicted scenes and patterns representing their daily lives!
That changed a lot during the colonization. Since the settling of the Inuit tribes, many art pieces began to be created in order to be exported to foreigns, so they started to sculpt bigger and more decorative pieces.
Lithography, which is a type of printmaking, was introduced to Inuit people by James Houston, that learned the technique from the japanese. The art form was quickly embraced by the inuit, as part of the process is very similar to carving. Prints that are produced by inuit artists are still being sold today!
As lithography is not an old art style and it's still commercially relevant to the Inuit communities, since creating these in 2021 I have been donating regularly to the Inuit Art Foundation, not only all the money I get from selling some prints of these but a bit more, at least once a year. Hopefully, I can increase donations this year!”
I featured Toph’s art before in this blog and it was my favorite too. The artist really captured the essence of the Far East. I wished joanachhi also featured Suki as her aesthetics was inspired by kabuki makeup, traditional war fans, and green armor reflecting samurai clothing in feudal Japan.
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- stella overshares ;) - a.i, creativity, and i crash out and mention my dead uncle at some point
full disclosure i've since learnt abt the environmental and ethical debate since then but kept up bc i'm never one to delete my crash outs ;)
soooo, first of all yuck i know, but i'm writing an essay for my pre-course application and i used ai. (calm down! not to cheat! i asked it to behave as a reverse dictionary bc i was sick of thesaurus.com not getting the vibe and scraping my brain for the answer was getting me nowhere). anyway. all goes well. i grab my word (tumultuous if you must know. a word i already know but couldn't remember in the moment)
but then a day later, i'm feeling a little frustrated with my plot for this original idea i have, i feel like there's holes in it i can't see and it's not as if i have any friends who are writers, experts in fiction, or people i feel comfortable sharing my ideas with in my life. so... i do the easy thing. i asked ai.
wrong! wrong! boooooo!
i know! i know! i know! trust me i'm feeling the price for my cop out now. i've always been a needs to live the lesson to learn it typa girl anyway.
i input my premise, a few cursory details, and i ask for plot holes. i figure it's no different that asking a fellow writer friend, if i had one?
except... chat gpt does more than i asked it to. it gives me fixes for the plot holes it finds. it creates dialogue snippets. scene suggestions. all of these filled with small ...creative?... details.
which i just scroll past and ignore at first bc this is my story, i'll fix my plot however i want to thank you very much! but then i do parse through the suggestions, some of them seem a little basic, not my style, not in my tone, similar to something i'd already thought of already which is affirming in its own way. it's all fine. i want my work to be my own, that's the whole effing point!!!
but then i see this line
"He doesn’t know how to do this, doesn't know how to meet someone who’s seen the better side of his son."
OH! Oh. oh
Nooooooooooooooooooo
Bc that ^^^ that shit. Is perfect for my story. Perfect for the plot, moment, scene. Perfect for the road the characters have been on.
I didn't put in anything other than "disgruntled, poverty beaten parental figure with little hope in his child reunites with the man his son is now". how did it managed to understand the precise dynamic in a way me! the person who invented this dynamic couldn't achieve?
i felt small. and creatively neutered. but also... tempted, envious. frustrated.
It's like a shiny golden egg I really, really, shouldn't touch. I'm not even sure I want to touch.
Because say I do drop that line in.
(Which! If you ever see it or any variation of it in anything I write, be it the news, fics, a book one day maaaybe if I ever eat and get myself published. Hurt me. You have full permission bc I've become a cheap version of myself who's chosen pretty words over actual effort).
The idea satisfies me, in that it communicates my vision well, I get to see my idea produced and story delivered in a tone, shape, theme etc I want to see it in.
But doing so cuts a trench in my stomach, a legit chilling cavern right in my gut.
Those are not my words. Not my ability. It's not my person, not my touch or language.
Why even bother writing at all if your best lines aren't yours to be proud of?
I know all this. Of course I do.
Hence this post. Because while I understand it would hurt me to ever take the work of ai and use it in my story and doing so would be dishonest, impersonal, and makes me feel more than a little sick. Part of me, for the sake of seeing the story rendered to the best it can be, wanted to use it.
I'm so fucking jealous a computer came up with a line for a character I created better than I think I might ever be able to. It's not supposed to be like this, it's supposed to be heart and humanity poured into work to make a story worth telling, not code.
Like props to the minds who created ai, nice going, but also, why! why! why!
I feel a little surplus to requirement now. Please potential future writer friends don't outcast me for this, I honestly hope sharing this might help me find others who have felt something similar when trying to engage creatively with ai, maybe something can be done to help shape the way creatives do engage with advancing intelligence in tech, because the hollow feeling within me right now ... yeah that's not it. that's not serving humanity, or aiding it, it's outsourcing our vibrance!
i know i'm not going to use ai again when it comes to creative pursuits because of this, i feel icky and guilty and less than when writing has never been that for me. ever.
(except for the chat i programmed to be a reverse dictionary bc damn that's not causing a moral or creative crash out that's just a thesaurus with extra steps)
maybe the lesson here is it's not just the words on the page or screen but the person behind it. (wooow ella hot take hun) maybe it doesn't matter if a computer could tell the same story better than me, maybe it's not all about quality, but just about me being a person and sharing what i can with all i have. i write because its a labour of love and effort, it fulfils me to take an idea and live in it, make it pretty, make it hurt, so what if it's shitter because of that.
it's mine. to be a writer now, in a way, is to choose to allow the idea to be human?
okay but that said, i do appreciate a good line of prose when i see one so i'm still pissed off.
"didn't know how to meet someone who'd seen the better side of his son," come on! come oooon! the agony in that, the way it addresses how Gareth knew his son had better in him but failed to even try and see it or nurture those qualities to the point that seeing the change for good in his son is the same as meeting a stranger. the way it implies two sides to Zak, the better and worse, and how Gareth is not only positioned on the side of the 'worst', by his own narration implying he sees himself as accountable, but also as someone who 'doesn't know' how to be better. he's a part of zak's past, and now zak has progressed onwards and met characters separate from worse side of him (Gareth's side of him). the fact gareth is there in the first place meaning he wants to try but he doesn't know how to??? all he's done is fail zak and zak and him are both still trying but lost on how to???
COME ON! FOR FUCKS SAKE!
why couldn't I just think of that first. i fucking invented Gareth and zak! he's named after my dead uncle for crying out loud! and zak is zak bc i wrote too much zutara fanfiction and now i'm incapable of writing male romantic leads with names that don't start with z!
i bet ai could come up with a better name than zak. ugh. i hate it here.
TL;DR If you ever see "doesn't know how to meet someone who's seen the better side of his son," under my name know I'm cooked and please give me a good head bonking. also ai kinda dampened my love for writing for a moment.
there’s a new potent drug called “the bed” out on the streets. just one hit of the damn thing and you’re passed out cold, tucked in, multiple blankies, honking and shooing for hours. scary stuff.
i fear i cannot stop writing this fictional couple being adorable and in love with each other. i have a plot. but then... awww they love each other awww. <333
let's make their date an extra 2000 words long why don't we. just because.
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[Katara’s bedroom window, the big one, above her bed. Piandao’s Castle. Approximately fifteen minutes after Katara and Zuko left for their date]
“I see them!” Suki hissed. Jin and Toph barrelled into her side. Feet bouncing on Katara’s bed to clamber to the headboard to look out the window and down over the hill and at two figures cloaked in red, black, and obvious delight in each other’s company as they wandered towards a night together. “Aw he’s -Toph!”
“I can’t see!” Toph protested.
“You can’t see anyway!” Jin shoved Toph’s head out the way. Toph climbed onto the headboard and muscled herself in between Jin and Suki. The older girls curved to accommodate her.
“Tell me what they’re doing? Is Sparky stuttering?”
“He’s definitely blushing, I can see from here.” Suki said smugly.
“Ah.” Jin put a hand on her chest. “One moment they’re screaming at each other in the streets of Ba Sing Se. The next you’re sending them off on their second first date.” She wiped a tear away.
“You’re not seriously crying?” Toph said flatly.
“No.” Jin laughed. “But I am -”
“Shh!” Suki waved a hand at the girls to hush up and squinted through the window. “I think he’s going to go for a hand hold!”
The window in the next room over opened and Haru’s arm stuck out, snatching Sokka’s. A bush of elbows peaking through the other side of the sandstone.
“Sokka! Put your boomerang down!” Haru shouted.
“Sokka?” Suki asked. Her boyfriend’s head popped out the window next door.
“Suki?”
“What are you and Haru doing in Toph’s bedroom?”
“Surveillance.” Sokka said as if it were obvious.
“He wanted to see Zuko and Katara leave for their date. He’s crying.” Haru’s smug smile popped out next. Toph and Jin poked their own heads forward.
“I’m not crying.” Sokka’s voice broke. “But Katara - she’s - my little sister.” He definitely almost cried. “And she’s out there, growing up. Let a man have his moment!”
Yes this is based on a real life experience of mine. Rushing over your bed with all your best friends to stare out the window as another friend goes on a first date is an unparalleled giddy moment of joy.
Scrolled down the MF DOOM tag trying to find the mac and cheese image and I couldn't so anyway here it is literally one of my favourite images of all time
Thoughts on how the Sun Warriors' cultural hairstyle is used as a symbol of shame within the Fire Nation
I always found it extremely interesting that the only other characters who share Zuko's signature s1 shaved phoenix tail hairstyle are the Sun Warriors, an indigenous firebending civilization that completely isolated themselves off from the rest of society due to the world's rapid industrialization and loss of spiritualism during the Roku era (an issue especially prevalent in the Fire Nation).
So I find this interesting that their signature cultural hairstyle is being used within the Fire Nation (a fellow firebending civilization) as a mark of shame, a symbol of banishment and dishonor. I personally believe that this specific hairstyle was intentionally co-opted and made synonymous with dishonor during Sozin's rule as a deliberate act of othering and direct insult to the Sun Warriors and their spiritual beliefs as well as cultural teachings surrounding firebending, similarly to how dancing (especially as a firebending technique) was completely stigmatized as well.
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Unknown, Sioux, North American
Native American
Witches Playing with Their Baby
c. 1890
Ink, colored pencil and paper
14.61 cm x 22.86 cm
The Detroit Institute of Arts, Detroit, Michigan, USA
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