beliefovermisery | (no subject)

(no subject)

If this were Apocalyptica or Eden or even Kansas itself, if Mel and the babies were at the house with them, Sokka would have woken up in a dogpile of limbs and baby drool. But with Mel and her daughters off with Erin for some sisterly bonding, Sokka wakes up in a rock bunker made by yet another Toph that doesn't recognize him with five feet between himself and the other occupant of the room.

A glance at Steph and a smirk given for the tangled blonde hair hanging in her face, Sokka grins a little and gets to his feet. There's a pool outside that will do well enough for a mirror and he really needs a shave.

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The look younger-Sokka is giving older-Sokka now is -- not quite blatant hero-worship, it's tempered with worry and empathy and admiration. And the vague hope of 'one-day-I'll-be-like-you'.

And a faint smirk.

"It is pretty," he points out, flicking a patch of snow from the back of his hand. "The yellow -- blonde."

Weird word.

"It was really long," Sokka says after a moment, trying to match the others' smirk, glad to see him cheered. "Like down to here," he gestures, "and she'd wear it down all the time and get mad at me when I wouldn't stop touching it."

"And now you're hanging out with that Steph girl," Sokka observes, faint smirk growing a little stronger. "I guess we do have a thing."

He draws absently in the snow with the corner of his boomerang.

"...Claire heals up. She doesn't get hurt."

It's sort of a non-sequiteur, but not really.

"I've had other friends that were blonde, though," Sokka notes wryly, still smirking a little. "And Steph had someone else, in the last world. A boyfriend. She's not interested in me like that, and I've... it's only been a year since I saw Paige.

"Claire sounds nice."

Sokka nods to that, leaning back on his hands and watching his older self play with the little kraken.

"Yeah. She's nice."

He's talked to Steph a couple of times since she got back with Sokka. She's nice, and she laughs a lot and treats everything as a joke. She's not as pretty as Claire. At least, he thinks so. She'd probably be a good friend, but ... he has his friends. Besides, he likes that when he gets older, he gets to be followed around by girls like that.

"I think we're going to Metropolis together. Me and her and Toph and this red girl who doesn't talk. Someone said Katara was there, and I have to find her."

Sokka will understand this.

Sokka absolutely does. Even if, strangely, he doesn't immediately jump at the chance to follow along.

"I heard she was here," he says instead, nodding a little. "Mel saw her - and another one of our clones, too, I guess. And, uh... no offense, but I'm glad I missed him."

"...>another one? There's another me?"

Sokka flails, just a little.

"What is wrong with this world!?"

"Apparently, it really, really likes us," Sokka replies, laughing a little at the other's expression. "But, really, who could blame it?"

"Me," Sokka says, sighing, flopping back in the snow. "Stupid world.

"...at least there's snow. It's still not proper weather, but snow's a good start on getting me to like this world."

"Man, don't even lie, I know you think I'm awesome," Sokka sniffs, head lifted high.

Which makes it very obvious that he's kidding, even if he wasn't grinning a second later.

"Snow's nice, though. Now if I could just get some fish."

Sokka's laughing anyway. "Yeah ... they keep telling me not to cook the baby kraken."

The kraken splashes water at him, irritably.

"Are you staying around?"

"...would it taste good?" Sokka asks seriously, brows lifted in curiosity as he reaches out to try and poke the retreating tentacle. "Or is it somebody's pet? There's no way it's tasty enough to be worth somebody crying."

He glances over and shrugs a bit, hiding a small smile by putting his gaze back on the pond. "Yeah, I'll be around. I'm not planning on going anywhere and I wouldn't move anyway, not until Mel gets back."

The kraken curls its tentacle around the older Sokka's hand. It's cuddly, and THIS person isn't trying to eat it! Snuggle snuggle. Happy kraken!

The younger Sokka grins, sitting up. "Good. It'll be good having someone around who isn't insane."

And, you know. Who's kind of awesome.

"I'd take that as more of a compliment if it wasn't also playing up to your ego," Sokka informs the other, laughing a little. But his grin at his-- younger self is almost fond and he's in a good enough mood to tickle the kraken tentacle.

"Where are you heading? With Claire and the rest?"

"I don't have an ego, I'm just awesome," Sokka says happily. "We're not really sure yet. Metropolis, prob'ly. Apparently it's like New York, except alive -- and there's lots of cars!"

Sokka grins in return. "Be careful. Gotham had some weird sickness in it, and some extra tentacle-monster things. Watch your back."

"Promise," Sokka-the-younger says, grinning. "The world needs its Sokkas, obviously. Couldn't deprive it of that."

"There'd be a severe lack of people fucking with random machinery if we weren't around," Sokka points out, grinning back. "Well, if I find a car while you're gone, I'll see if I can get it to fly by the time you get back."

Sokka beams at him.

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