avatar love story (aang x reader)

33 part 3

The Tale of Sokka
Written by: Lauren Macmullan

(Tale fades into Sokka walking down a candle-lit street at night. He reaches back and pulls his boomerang from its sheath, throws it into the sky, and catches it as it comes back. Shot cuts to him walking past a building and into the ally beside it. In the ally, a man struggles with his ostrich horse. Sokka passes them, and by the windows of the building, as he hears voices from inside. Intrigued, he turns and sticks his head inside the window.)

Sokka: What's this?

(The shot from Sokka's perspective shows the rooms to be a classroom of sorts with a stage. The girls that occupy the class all wear beautiful dresses and head pieces. There is a student on stage reading her writings to the class.)

Student on stage: Through all the long night, winter moon glows with bright love, sleet her silver tears.

Sokka: (His head resting on his hands, looking pleased) Ahh, poetry.

(Shot cuts to the ally again, as the ostrich horse, who is still struggling with his handler, kicks backward and hits Sokka right his the behind sending him flying through the window and into the class.)

Students: (startled) Oooh!

(The girls all gasp in shock as Sokka hangs from the window, part of the frame around his chest. He starts to apologize and he pulls himself into the room and falls onto the stage.)

Sokka: I am so sorry. Something struck me in the rear. I just... wound up... here?

Students: (Laughing and clapping)

(Sokka grins as he stands in front of the class. The woman on the far right of the group of girls stands up, applauding softly but looking stern.)

Madame Macmu-Ling: (Applauds Sokka) Five seven then five, syllables mark a Haiku, (bowing her head to him) remarkable oaf.

Sokka: (Looking annoyed, then ponders this for a second.) They call me Sokka, that is in the Water Tribe, (counting the next five syllables on his fingers as he says them) I am not an oaf.

(The girls laugh but Macmu-Ling still looks stern and does not applaud this time.)

Madame Macmu-Ling: Chittering monkey, in the spring he climbs treetops, and thinks himself tall.

Students: Ooooh.

Sokka: You think you're so smart, with your fancy little words, this is not so hard.

Students: Ooooh!

Madame Macmu-Ling: (Walking up to Sokka on stage) Whole seasons are spent mastering the form, the style, none calls it easy!

Sokka: I calls it easy! Like I paddle my canoe, (Turns around and paddles his behind once) I'll paddle yours too!

Students: (Laughing)

Madame Macmu-Ling: There's nuts and there's fruits, (Pulls a plumb from her sleeve and drops it to the ground) in fall the clinging plumb drops, always to be squashed.

(She steps on the plumb, squashing it.)

Sokka: (Making different arm motions) Squish-squash, sling that slang. I'm always right back at ya, like my... (drawing and presenting his boomerang to her face) boomerang!

Students: (Laughing)

(Macmu-Ling looks annoyed but walks off stage and back to her seat as Sokka turns to the class again and raises his arms up to silence the laughter.)

Sokka: (Sheathing his boomerang and making more arm movements) That's right I'm Sokka, it's pronounced with an "okka", young ladies, I rocked ya!

(This time his words are met with total silence as he stares over the class who look annoyed at him. Cut to his face as he begins to count his fingers, attempting to figure out of he had too many syllables. Sure enough, he realizes his final line contained six syllables instead of five. A large man approaches him and grabs him up by the collar.)

Security: Uh, that's one too many syllables there, bub.

(Picking Sokka completely up, he throws him head first across the room and out the door. Outside, he hits the ground with a thud and sits up holding his head.)

Sokka: ...poetry.