![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Thunderstorm
Azula loved thunderstorms. They reminded her of herself- powerful, awe-inspiring and very often fear-inducing (she, of course, had never been afraid of them herself). When she was younger- much, much younger- she would lie in bed and look at the lightning out the window, pretending that she was the one generating and controlling it. She'd tell herself that someday, she would be powerful enough to do it for real- and that she'd be better than everyone. Even her father; even her uncle. Everyone.
Now, as a fifteen-year-old accomplished lightningbender, she pulled the curtains wide open before going to bed, so she could see the sky clearly. She mentally traced the bolts of lightning as they appeared in the sky, and eagerly anticipated each gigantic boom of thunder (the storm was centered right above the capital city, just the way she liked it).
Azula inwardly scoffed at everyone who accused her of being boring, or not knowing how to have fun. This was fun.
Now, as a fifteen-year-old accomplished lightningbender, she pulled the curtains wide open before going to bed, so she could see the sky clearly. She mentally traced the bolts of lightning as they appeared in the sky, and eagerly anticipated each gigantic boom of thunder (the storm was centered right above the capital city, just the way she liked it).
Azula inwardly scoffed at everyone who accused her of being boring, or not knowing how to have fun. This was fun.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
"... I do, too."