[ When she picks up the stone, Hei braces himself to be pelted. It's not with a sense of dread, or even expectation. Just a passive sense of waiting, the way he sometimes used to wait, after Pai's disappearance, for his own death. Each time the bullets whizzed too closeby, each time the night was too suffocatingly still, some obscure part of him, that was ever-ready to take a swandive into release, struggled against struggle, saying, Just let it happen. ]
[ Except he'd never listened to that voice. His retort was always: Why should I? ]
[ He prepares to dodge, but the stone ricochets off the wooden slats. It skitters near the pond, and the ducks fly off, but Hei isn't paying attention. His focus is on Korra. He lets her explode. Lets her get what she needs to off her chest, to reveal whatever rationale she's clinging to. Whatever justifies this bizarro hookup of theirs. He can tell how strongly she resists the idea that it's a coping mechanism, even though, from a detached viewpoint, it's true in a lot of respects. ]
[ But Hei is aware that clinging to your own worldview is an intellectual imperative, the mind's equivalent of fighting, feeding and fucking. People will eagerly twist facts into wholly unrecognizable shapes to fit them into existing suppositions. They'll ignore the obvious, select the irrelevant, and spin it all into a tapestry of self-deception, solely to justify an idea, no matter how impoverished or self destructive. ]
[ Isn't that what you're doing too? ]
I don't mean 'stuck' like two people in a box, Korra. [ He doesn't snap it; his voice is quiet and reasonable. ] I mean two people who are obviously ill-suited for each other. But there's an idiotic alchemy stopping them from making the smart choice and splitting ways. [ He scrubs a hand through his hair, suddenly impatient. ] I've threatened to kill your friends. Threatened -- and nearly succeeded -- in killing you. Those aren't trivial issues. I know this is a tiresome conversation. And I don't want to give you the wrong impression. But think for a minute. Wouldn't you be better off with someone safer? More age-appropriate?
no subject
[ Except he'd never listened to that voice. His retort was always: Why should I? ]
[ He prepares to dodge, but the stone ricochets off the wooden slats. It skitters near the pond, and the ducks fly off, but Hei isn't paying attention. His focus is on Korra. He lets her explode. Lets her get what she needs to off her chest, to reveal whatever rationale she's clinging to. Whatever justifies this bizarro hookup of theirs. He can tell how strongly she resists the idea that it's a coping mechanism, even though, from a detached viewpoint, it's true in a lot of respects. ]
[ But Hei is aware that clinging to your own worldview is an intellectual imperative, the mind's equivalent of fighting, feeding and fucking. People will eagerly twist facts into wholly unrecognizable shapes to fit them into existing suppositions. They'll ignore the obvious, select the irrelevant, and spin it all into a tapestry of self-deception, solely to justify an idea, no matter how impoverished or self destructive. ]
[ Isn't that what you're doing too? ]
I don't mean 'stuck' like two people in a box, Korra. [ He doesn't snap it; his voice is quiet and reasonable. ] I mean two people who are obviously ill-suited for each other. But there's an idiotic alchemy stopping them from making the smart choice and splitting ways. [ He scrubs a hand through his hair, suddenly impatient. ] I've threatened to kill your friends. Threatened -- and nearly succeeded -- in killing you. Those aren't trivial issues. I know this is a tiresome conversation. And I don't want to give you the wrong impression. But think for a minute. Wouldn't you be better off with someone safer? More age-appropriate?