I'm still having less nightmares, but not yet none at all. They're still there, in the background, trying to get through. Last night I slept in my bed in the other room and accidentally left the sleep satchel in Lisa's bed, and they were back in full force.

Maybe they're never going to go away.
I had forgotten what it was like to fall asleep easily and not wake up until the next morning. This is the first time in a long time that I haven't felt exhausted. Lisa's also glad for it; I wonder if that satchel's working on her, too.

It's winter again. My third winter since I found the community, and each one's been completely different.

Do you ever look back at your old posts and realize just how much your life has changed?

[edited in five minutes later]

Another thing: are spaceships on most worlds alive? I got to hear one talk once.
I don't think it's working.

I don't think it's going to work.

Anytime I try to sleep I just have these dreams. Torn-off heads. Dungeons. Father. Even normal things-- like beaches; the hot springs at Ember Island or learning to swim in the ocean-- they're all turning into nightmares.

I want to call Lilith. I want to call Lisa at work. I want to go train for five hours straight until my skin is on fire and my muscles are burning with pain.

This'll probably be visible. I locked it, but it probably won't work, and the world will know how pathetic I am. Not crazy. Just pathetic. They'll avoid me, which I won't mind until the next time I get lonely; they'll think I'm weird and creepy, which I will mind, because that's not what perfect warriors are like. I can't sleep.

My country is dying and I can't go help it because apparently I'm not strong enough-- I know I wouldn't be able to wrestle it away from Zuko and the rest of the traitors with the way I am now and knowing that only makes it worse.

Soon, this'll go away and I'll be able to rest again, and I'll be able to trick myself into thinking that I'm close to being back to my old self. And then it'll repeat itself. Again. And again. And again. No end in sight.

It's no wonder people say they'd just let me drown. Father would do the same thing.
I'm disowning everyone because they're stupid and horrible and confusing and I HATE THEM and I HOPE THEY DIE.

And that goes for all of you. Everyone on every world. Go away from me.

[ooc: related to this little bit of Azula trying to identify with someone and FAILING MISERABLY because... well, she's Azula]
I am NOT promiscuous.

OOC: Reference; overreacting is fun!
bentflame: (looking for a way out)
... It must have been one of those day-long viruses. Or a god, but since the one other person who was afflicted was completely random, it's not likely that--

It doesn't matter.


OOC: She can see again, so all replies/threads in her comm entry will be backdated! <3
[Audio opens with a man (presumably one of Azula's guards) talking:]

-- A big execution. We were only following orders, Fire Lord; the former Fire Lord Ozai knew killing your consort would be a good way to get at you, and we had no choice but to obey him. She cried for you when they strung her up.

[When Azula speaks, there's nothing in her voice but hot fury-- if she feels anything else, she's hiding it well]

If what you're saying is true, then you executed a prisoner without the ruling Fire Lord's consent-- I'm sure I don't need to tell you how illegal that is. I'll be looking into this, and if I find even a shred of truth to this statement of yours, every last one of you will pay! Do you understand me?

[After a humble-sounding "Yes, Fire Lord", the guard exits, and Azula makes a little hmph sound, as if trying to brush it off... then suddenly takes off for the bathroom. There's the muffled sound of vomiting. Lovely.]

OOC: Reference; Ozai is a dick. 8)
[Azula is lying in a hospital bed, bandages wrapped around her shoulder and abdomen. She stirs a little, giving a slight groan, and opens her eyes. Her hand goes up to her face for a second, then she glances around the room as much as she can from her position.]


[But then she realizes that she's not at Princeton-Plainsboro-- or any hospital she's been in before, for that matter.]

What's going on?

OOC: I'm not sure how much I'm going to be around on the official end-event day (Friday), so I wanted to get this post done while I still have time to respond to comments. Sorry if it's confusing, but I won't be forward-dating comments outside of this entry or making any other posts, so it shouldn't be too bad. :P
bentflame: (glaring)
[livejournal.com profile] fierysire is not my father. He never has been, and he never will be. My birth parents are ancient history, and I already have two adoptive parents-- this "Ozai" is nothing more than an insane man from another world. He wishes he could have me.

Anyone who thinks that they even have a chance of contesting this is an idiot.

OOC: Reference!
Something isn't right. My father--

Doctor Cuddy. What makes you think your hospital will be able to cure me?

OOC: Just pretend ICly that replies are coming much more slowly than usual, because weak and shaky arms make it hard to type. :| Still, she won't be using voice posts unless someone else initiates it because she's still lucid enough to recognize that her voice sounds sick and "pathetic". :P

They said I have it. I can't--

I'm the success; the one that matters. I'm important to you. You wouldn't allow me to die.

[The audio turns on with a clunk-- Azula dropped the communicator book by accident, and it started recording when it hit the ground]


[Her breathing is labored and unsteady, and she's slowly but steadily crawling across the ground-- she had been walking until vertigo and a massive headache made that impossible]

Just get away from me; I don't want you touching me, you disgusting little worm. Just LEAVE ME ALONE!

For the third time this week, Azula woke up in bed with someone completely unexpected. For the first time, however, she woke up before they did.

She knew before she opened her eyes that she wasn't alone-- she could feel an arm brushing up against hers. Azula lifted her head and glanced over, still holding out just a little hope that it was only Ty Lee-- but, of course, it wasn't. This time, it was someone she barely knew. She recognized the woman from around the community, but she didn't recall ever having spoken to her, and she didn't know her name.

Azula sat up and leaned over, giving the other occupant a rough shove. "Get up," she ordered.



September 2011

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