[ She was training, meditating, and working her ass off before, too. Determination -- amped up, supercharged -- is never the only solution. To win, it's necessary to switch tactics. Attrition isn't as effective as strategy. It certainly isn't as successful as change. Because change creates movement. And movement creates new opportunities. If Korra wants to access her Avatar state ... she has to try something wholly different. ]
[ Hei doesn't say that. It's not his purview to offer her advice, much less lecture her. She needs to learn things at her own pace -- just as he does. She already seems right on the edge of losing it. He's not certain whether she's going to lash out or break down or scream. It doesn't matter; Hei knows it's the same feeling inside. Like lava setting fire to your insides. Like those people they discover three days later in a chair, totally incinerated with pair of perfectly unblemished feet. ]
[ Then she says What's your point, and the words work on him like an incantation, like a key in the lock. He was tense and aloof a moment before. But now everything softens: his resistance, his spine, his clenched hands. He stares at her with a quiet, solid focus. His voice is the same, but with an undertone that's almost like pleading, ]
Nothing. I know it's easy to blame yourself. Like if you'd been better or stronger, none of this would've happened. I also know self-hate is easier than clarity. But you're fooling yourself, or trying to. You're recovering from a bad situation. You're upset about what's happened to Naga. I understand that. [ He doesn't say Because I've lived it. But he doesn't look away from her either. ] Just remember this is situational. It doesn't define what you are. Don't let it.
no subject
[ Hei doesn't say that. It's not his purview to offer her advice, much less lecture her. She needs to learn things at her own pace -- just as he does. She already seems right on the edge of losing it. He's not certain whether she's going to lash out or break down or scream. It doesn't matter; Hei knows it's the same feeling inside. Like lava setting fire to your insides. Like those people they discover three days later in a chair, totally incinerated with pair of perfectly unblemished feet. ]
[ Then she says What's your point, and the words work on him like an incantation, like a key in the lock. He was tense and aloof a moment before. But now everything softens: his resistance, his spine, his clenched hands. He stares at her with a quiet, solid focus. His voice is the same, but with an undertone that's almost like pleading, ]
Nothing. I know it's easy to blame yourself. Like if you'd been better or stronger, none of this would've happened. I also know self-hate is easier than clarity. But you're fooling yourself, or trying to. You're recovering from a bad situation. You're upset about what's happened to Naga. I understand that. [ He doesn't say Because I've lived it. But he doesn't look away from her either. ] Just remember this is situational. It doesn't define what you are. Don't let it.