Carved In Rock || ATLA

Hurricane

The Guru/The Crossroads of Destiny

"With your life on the line, ready to die for something. When you're at the divide and you're down to nothing, look into my eyes, believe me that the storm is coming." - I Prevail

🌊 ⛰ 🔥 🌪

By the spirits, Murata felt like his entire body was heavy lead. Between the poison that still kept his bending at bay, the lingering pain from the beating he had taken and the unrelenting anxiety and terror coursing through his veins, he hated every bit of his life at the moment. It took every ounce of strength he had left in him to lift his arms and drag off the last layer of his dirty uniform, torn fabric catching in the deep cuts and dried blood on his biceps, pulling the tender skin open yet again.

"Fuck," He hissed through gritted teeth as the wounds began to seep.

"Well now," A voice hummed behind him. "That won't do, will it?" Zetzu pushed himself off from the wall to the washroom where had been lounging. He brushed past the earthbender to rummage through the nearby closest, emerging a moment later with a towel. He pushed his new friend down to sit on the edge of the small but clean tub. Zetzu ignored Murata's grumbles of pain as he knelt before the Captain. Quickly he tore the towel into strips and tied them tightly around the earthbenders wounds. "That should help slow the bleeding for now," He said with a smile, patting the other man's knee before he stood once more. "Wouldn't want a dirty uniform to turn any heads."

Murata snorted. "Yeah, that would be a real tragedy."

Zetzu ignored the sarcasm. He went back to the closest and tossed another towel at the earthbenders feet. "Wash up and get dressed, and hurry up while you're at it. There isn't any tea in this damn house." He knew, he had already looked.

The poison had by far piqued the young Lord's interest some of the most, only second to the fact that the Akira and the Avatar were not in Ba Sing Se at the moment. Murata hadn't been sure if anything had survived the destruction of the Dai Li's former underwater compound, but for once it seemed the spirits were smiling down on Zetzu. The vials they had recovered would be going back to the Fire Nation to be studied and refined, likely changing the tides of the neverending war, and possibly changing the future of whole world.

Murata moved slowly, partially because he couldn't go any faster and partially out of spite. He couldn't bring himself to stand and look in the mirror as he wet the towel and began to wash away the dried blood that dusted his face. That mess largely belonged to the deadman whose house they occupied now. Luckily for the kid but unluckily for Murata, the public opinion of the Dai Li had yet to change. Most citizens were either too terrified to even look at the Captain long enough to notice his battered state or they resented his uniform so much that they openly scowled his way and enjoyed seeing him so beaten down.

No one seemed to notice or care much at all for the man that kept just a short step behind him. The Fire Nation royal had been sure to keep the Professor's goggles strapped firmly to his forehead, covering the unnatural third eye tattoo, his own face dirty with dust and grease to sell the look of an engineer beneath the protective clothing.

The Dai Li uniforms were made by a seamstress in the Middle Ring with the notion in mind that their clothing was always on the house or the house burnt down. Murata made a mental note to see that change if he managed to live through this, hating the fact that the woman behind the counter hadn't questioned a damn thing when he strolled through the doors, simply tossing the new threads to him just to get him away from her all the faster.

And then the bastard made him come here, to the very home Murata had gathered Professor Nouzen from the day before. Sick fuck. It made sense since the home was empty, but the guilt that hit the earthbender the second they stepped inside was nearly enough to kill him too.