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❝ the rules ❞
· • -- ٠ ♛ ٠ -- • ·
The dim moonlight holds the deep amber hue of her eyes well. Nari is angry, and the darkness of such an emotion weighs her eyes to an evil glow as she scowls at her family's garden. It graces her with ambient views of roses and bushels of fruitful trees and greenery, a placid pond placed in the middle of the clean cut sod.
Her fingers wrap around the stone half-wall, tightening heard within the silence of the night. Nari's narrow eyes are striking, sharp enough to cut someone, which at this point in her boiling anger, it is well intended. She's never felt so much rage- lungs burn hot with fire lit at her diaphragm, eyes stinging with the welcome blaze, breath bitter and rigid. Nari could kill.
Even at the tenderly young age of fifteen, Nari exhibits enigmatic wrath and pique. Or so according to her disdained parents Rai and Hikaro. It's no surprise to find steam puffing from her nose, or witness heat waves like a mirage carrying wisps of unkempt hair upwards. She'd snap at her brother, Tayiko, for the simplistic vice of jealousy.
Tayiko always been favorable among the two children of the high ranked official (who'd long been intertwined with the peak of nobility), even if his bending was poor and weak and sour. Hikaro, who was handed a colony for his watching many years ago, holds his kids to a high standard though never showing attention to Nari besides reprimands. He looks to her as a disgrace, for the powerful bender who's skills rival the princess of the Fire Nation had no belonging in his family. She lacks restraint. She never holds her tongue. She acts on impulse. Her motivations are purely fueled through spite, much alike to her fire bending.
This is no behavior which a young lady should exhibit, not if she wants a nice husband or honorable representation. This is what her mother never ceases to tell the young girl.
She however, lacks the very care which a reputation is based from. It is far too late, she knows, to shift her care and apply grace to her name, for it has already been tarnished and spoiled and ruined enough, like milk past its expiration.
Nari tires to hold her irritation inwards. Through deep breaths, she lets the flames in her belly depart in fragments of steam from her exhalation. The rage, however, does not ebb away. And though this is not a pleasant sight for one to hold kindly, Nari sheds no care. She never did. Hidden within the walls of her family's manor, she knows well that no one can see her besides guards or her hated parents.
As well as the scattered guests from a rather poor party.
Her parents would never check up on her. Why would they? If Hikaro and Rai had anything to say, Nari would be able to speak it for them, and they held their words in their mouth as if they were children with stolen candy.
She can not take it anymore; not but three breaths can she last before she jumps over the wall, sharp and precise motions looking as if they were two repeated actions from a scroll. Right fist punched, left fist punched, all within the fading blue-to-orange flames that swirl from her hands. She'd not yet mastered Azula's signature blue fire; it was a skill of many attempts and years of practice with the proper girl, of a fire burning purer than all else. Nari can not pin down the ability.
