Hello, amigos! It is time to tell me once again how I'm doin' it wrong!

This is Sokka's How's My Driving post, feel free to come tell me how much you hate him, how much you love him or any critiques you have in between! I love nothing more than receiving information about how other people perceive my characterization. I will do everything in my ability to remedy the issue!

Awesome to see you, thanks for playing!


IP Logging is OFF
Screened Comments are ON

[Sokka is sitting smack in the center of the road to Ardel, having a staring contest with one of the statues.

So far, it looks like he might actually be winning, as unflinching as that stare is.]

[There's the sound of hands running over the communicator as Sokka turns it over and over, trying to figure it out-- his hand has hit one of the buttons to turn it on as he's fiddling with it.]

...heard people talking through this before, now how...

[And then, he realizes he's transmitting.]

Aha! Okay, all right. At least one thing makes sense. Juuuust one.

Okay, so, Iiii was sort of under the impression that there were going to be monsters all over the place and here all the time and it was going to be crazy.

Other than the-- creepy little whatever-this-thing-is-- [Sokka's capybara makes a sad sort of sound in the background.]-- I haven't seen anything resembling a monster.

And what's with the houses? I don't want to sleep in a bathtub! Would a bed be too much to ask for?

[Yeah, now that he's settling in? He's really pretty annoyed.]

And where are Aang and Katara and Toph and everybody?!

[There's a loud, exaggerated sigh.]

And would you stop looking at me like that?!

[And with another scared sound from his Capybara, the feed ends.]

Attention, please!

Just a heads up, this journal is being recycled for another RPG! Please feel free to defriend him and stuff like that! I won't actually be removing any journals from the friends list, though, I like them all too much. ;;

[Sokka clears his voice before speaking, but when he starts, his tone is commanding-- like a chieftain preparing his tribe for battle. Which is essentially what he's thinking this will turn out to be, at this point.]

All right, listen up!

[He really hopes that caught everyone's attention-- and hopes no one noticed his voice crack a tiny bit.]

I know everyone's out looking for people, and I know stuff's a little crazy right now. I think instead of doing random roll-calls over the network, we need to move everyone up to the top deck! That way we can see for ourselves who all is here and in one piece!

[No, he does not actually know there are people literally missing pieces yet.]

If there's anyone injured, I'll come find you myself, okay? I should be able to help most everyone out. For those who don't know me-- I'm Sokka, I'm from the same world as Katara and Zuko and Toph and Jet, okay?

Everyone, keep an eye out, and try to make it to the top deck! If you have weapons or something-- bring those!

If you know of anyone who's injured, let me know, and I'll go and find them and get them to the top deck, okay?

[Aaaaaand he's off.]

((OOC: Feel free to run into Sokka in the hallways as he's running around looking for people to save, and feel free to reply to his post like normal, or whatever. He doesn't expect this to work, exactly, but he's trying to get the people he knows up to the top deck at the very least.

Edit: And I am seriously crashing, so I need to sleep. I'll reply tomorrow, I'm sorry, guys! ;;))

Dear people of the hunk of floating metal!

[Sokka's eyeball appears first, bright, blue, and squinting into the camera lens, as though that will somehow guarantee that everything is in order.]

Is it just me, or does it seem like eeeeeeverytime something gets mildly exciting-- okay, exciting? Not a good word, but you get my point-- it gets really boring again.

Even after the recovery.

TO ILLUSTRATE THIS, I made art.

[The word carries with it a finality, a presence and power that only those who pronounce "artist" as "arteest" without being facetious can muster. He holds the camera up to the piece of parchment he's mustered from god knows where and this awful thing is revealed. He starts pointing at the various drawings-- if you can call them that-- following the arrows.]

This? This is me. I'm a pretty cool guy.

Theeeeese are my friends. They all look sort of angry. Especially Jet. And Jim. And Zuko. Okay, they're all sort of angry.

OH! And this is my sister. Aaaaaand these are her hair loopies.

[The hand gesture used to point out the hair loopies is somewhat.... abstract, and involves much wiggling of the fingers.]

And this is all of us BORED OUT OF OUR MINDS on a crazy boat! Now, it's probably for the best that we're bored because interesting means the same thing as really stupidly dangerous in this place, but I mean really.

Also this one down here is me being able to hear out of my ear again! Except I can't. But a guy can dream.

[The video feed promptly cuts out, replaced by audio.]

And that, is that. Does anyone have anything cooking? I'm tired of my steak tasting like crushed panda lilies.

[If anyone were to venture out onto the top deck tonight well after dark, they would see a strange assembly on the golf course, facing where the moon has risen. There are sheets, loosely safety-pinned and stitched together in places, draped over the now-still windmill and a few other obstacles, making a fairly large, makeshift tent. There are a bunch of jars with candles in them littering the deck. He's robbed a box of various kinds of string lights from somewhere on the boat and draped them around his fabric castle, the light of the jars and electric Christmas lights pulling the colors from the sheets to the astroturf around him. The pillows piled haphazardly inside have been squished flat in an attempt to make the tent a little more comfortable.

And, away from his tent and off the fake grass, he's built a little fire.

Yep. He's got marshmallows. And some random fish ganked from the kitchens, skewered and cooking.

More than anything, it's sort of like being at home. He's missed camping under the stars (even if these are fake) and he's missed what could be considered normalcy on the boat. He's missed his friends, and... well. Being out here like this, he can't help but miss Suki and Yue.

He still doesn't believe entirely that his home world could be gone. Denial is a powerful thing, when you allow it to be. Sokka's smart enough to know that... really, there was a little too much realism in those visions from before. Really, there's a possibility. But... it was nice to think that maybe home was still there. After all that had happened, there'd be a home to go to.]

Nice night, huh?

[Beat.]

I mean, not that would know because there's no one up here, but it's, uh-- I can tell you.

Yeah.

Nice night.

Anyone want some company?

[Guys? Anyone?]

[Well.

Whaaaat an adventure the past few weeks have been.

Sokka definitely spent the few days after the Halloween Fiasco sleeping. Just, sleeping the dead-to-the-world, dreamless sleep of the truly exhausted. It took a few more days for his ear to stop hurting so much, and thereby alleviating the semi-permanent headache he'd had.

Since then, he's been raiding weapon lockers and trying to practice his sword fighting by himself, but he's so out of practice with his normal sword that it's slow-going, and... well, he's so off-balance with his half-deafness that it's really hard to progress.]

So.

Uh.

Well. Okay, I have a question. Katara, I don't know if you'll be able to do much for this, so... are there any healers who can help me with something? I got... I basically got the inside of my ear injured, like, the ear... what's it-- uh, the ear drum? Yeah. So, I've been really... off-balance. I can't hear anything out of the right side of my head. Geeeeetting a little obnoxious.

Anyone here think they can heal that?

[There's a bit more silence, and then:]

How's everyone holding up, anyway?

[Brilliant question, Sokka. He's really the only one who doesn't believe their world is destroyed. He thinks it's an illusion, cooked up by... that thing. Whatever that was. He has his own train of logic and he's going to ride it into the ground.]

[Filtered to Toph, Katara and Zuko // 40% Unhackable]

Especially you guys. Toph, I haven't heard from you-- you either, Zuko. And Katara, too. You guys doing okay? Kind of weird we live-- well, most of us, live on the same deck and we never seem to catch each other.

[Filtered to Teen Boy Squad // 40% Unhackable]

Guys. Sorry it's taken so long to get in touch.

I really owe you guys an apology, for... for that night.

And... well, a.

A thank you.

You guys probably kept me alive.

[....yep. That's it! This has been Sentimental Hour with your host, Sokka Water Tribe. GOOD NIGHT EVERYBODY.]

[Sokka had been gathering pink markers for Toph out of one of his junk suitcases when he heard Jim's voice on ShipNET. It was nothing out of the ordinary, the normal kind of prattle-- at least, until the conversation continued.

And Azula's voice came on, mentioning his name.

That was never a good sign. The memory of their last meeting-- with Jim being an idiot and picking a fight-- flashed across his mind and--]

This is bad.

[Sokka listens in horror for a few seconds before running to his door, maybe they were at the gym like last time--

Wait. He stops in the doorframe; Jim's running somewhere, he can hear the thudding footsteps on the communicator. Wherever they were, they were leaving for somewhere else. If Jim was chasing Azula-- where would she lead him? Where would she go?

Where would she fight someone? Or attack them first?

Where could she get someone to possibly ambush them?

....where had she ambushed Sokka?

Carnival.

His heart plummets into his gut as fresh adrenaline shoot through his system and he fumbles with his communicator to broadcast a short, locked message to Hiccup--]

Hiccup! Jim's-- Jim's in trouble, I think they're in Carnival! Get there. Now.

[And he's off at a sprint, tossing his communicator behind him onto his bed on impulse and slamming the door shut. He takes the elevator-- as much as he HATES that awful thing, he knows it's faster-- and sprints out of the doors on Deck 4 and makes a beeline for Carnival, knife drawn, ready to do whatever he has to to save Jim.

When he wrenches open the doors, there's no sign of Azula-- his stomach flops over the humidity and the sickeningly sweet smell of decay and the awful, tinny music. His eyes fall upon a form lying on the ground in roughly the same spot Sokka had fallen.]

JIM!

[He rushes over to the other teenager's side, attempting to survey the damage. If Azula was involved, he knows it's not going to be good, and his mind is already attempting to process a million plans as to what he's going to do.]