Remora moves to Republic City hoping she's going to have a fresh start and leave the demons of her past back at the South Pole.
Sadly, it does not turn out they way she expected it.
Cover art by @ImberLapis
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
《~♤~》
Mako
If I had been told the next morning: 'Mako! You'll be shot if you don't get up this minute!' — I would have replied in a languid, barely audible voice: 'Shoot me, do what you like with me, I won't get up.'
Getting up, seems to be a struggle for me. I can't open my eyes, because if I do so, there would be a flash of lightning, and my head would at once be blown to pieces. From the pounding head, the sand paper taste in my mouth and dehydration, I'm assuming that I must have been drinking heavily last night.
"Mako!" I feel a hand shake my shoulder.
"Hmmm!" I groan in protest in my sleep.
"Bro wake up. It's almost noon." My brother, Bolin, says.
"Go away, leave me alone and let me sleep." I cover my face with my pillow.
"I think you've slept long enough. You need to get your ass out of bed before I do that for you."
"Bolin, my skull feels like it's being smashed by a sludge hammer and my body feels like it got runover by a train at Mach 5. What do you want from me?"
"You can't spend the whole day in bed, broski. If anything, you're worsening the current state you're in."
"Don't care. We don't have anything to do today anyway. Now go away and let me sleep and do whatever it is you do with Pabu or something. You're disturbing the peace."
I hear him sigh before leaving my room.
Finally.
I curl under the duvet and close my eyes until I feel cold water on my face.
"GAH! WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?!" I yelp, jerking up wiping the liquid from my face. "Did you get it from the fridge?!" I yell and glare at him.
"Maybe." He shrugs with a smirk tugging his lips. "I did say that I was going to wake you up, didn't I?"
I growl still glaring at him.
"Fine. I'm awake." I sit up in bed with that rather unpleasant feeling you get sometimes that you're going to die in about five minutes.
"What time did you come home anyway?" He asks. "You said you were going out for a drink for an hour or two."
He puts the jug down and walks over to the wardrobe.
"I dunno. I lost track of time." I reply as he tosses me a towel and wipe my face. "You could have at least called."
"I did. LIKE A HUNDRED TIMES! I SENT VOICEMAILS AFTER EVERY HOUR, AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN CALL BACK!"
