Thirty-Eighth Theory [Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[Before Don goes out this morning, he leaves a note on the kitchen table.]

GONE TO THE SMITHY.
BACK TONIGHT.

[Two days ago he was angry with his brothers for being overprotective, but today everything is different. He genuinely wants them to know where he is, because they've all just been reminded how suddenly a person can vanish.]

[Part of him thinks he should have just stayed home, but... April never wanted him to give up on his work, no matter how futile it seemed. With that in mind, he heads into the village to keep a promise. The promisee is gone too, this time kidnapped before he even started working, but he's going to keep his word anyway. It's not like his curse could cause any further disaster.]

[... Maybe.]

[At any rate, he'll spend the day making tuning forks, for reasons he doesn't entirely understand. While he works, he'll keep an eye out for Sokka. He needs to talk to him about... a certain matter.]

Comments

[markofthewise]

What? No no, really. I'm not the gun type. I'm still trying work out how to use a crossbow.

[i_speak_softly]

[He seems much relieved by this.] You have everything you need, then?

[markofthewise]

I think so. Unless you have any ideas?

[i_speak_softly]

[He looks away.] Honestly, Sokka, it's probably better if you don't ask me for anything.

[markofthewise]

... that busy, huh? [No... it's probably not that.]

[i_speak_softly]

[A long look, and then he moves back towards the forge.] Bad things always happen to people when they ask me to do something.

[markofthewise]

What kind of bad things are we talking about here?

[i_speak_softly]

[He pumps the bellows to rebuild the flames.] Kidnapped. Sent home. It never fails...

[markofthewise]

Last I checked, 'sent home' was a good thing.

[For that person, anyway. No so much the people left behind.]

[i_speak_softly]

Not for some people. [And pick up the tongs; thrust the iron in the fire. Keep trying, even if it never makes a difference.]

[markofthewise]

Sure, maybe not everyone. But you're talking about coincidences. Stuff like luck, karma, destiny, and so on. None of that stuff is real. It's just stuff people make up to make themselves feel better. Or worse, whichever.

[i_speak_softly]

[If Sokka had lived Don's life, he would not doubt the existence of Turtle Luck.]

You don't have to believe me. But it's been pretty reliable.

[markofthewise]

Look, I know what it's like to have a lot of your plans go badly for you... trust me, I've really let down a lot of people with my own failures. And... well, actually I wasn't really going anywhere with that... er, but if the universe is out to get you, so what? That never stopped me.

[i_speak_softly]

[He shrugs, watching the metal in the forge turn red again.] It doesn't stop me either. I just have to remember to factor it in when I make plans.

[markofthewise]

[Well, that's that then. And then after a bit a silence...]

What are you working on anyway?

[i_speak_softly]

[As if this is a completely logical thing to be making while half the village is preparing for battle:] Tuning forks.

[markofthewise]

A tuning fork. That's... [Weird? Irrelevant? Pointless with the battle looming?] ... different. You play an instrument?

[i_speak_softly]

[Blandly, because it's not like he's lying to you or anything:] Chopin wants them for his music lessons.

[markofthewise]

Oh right, music class. [Sokka thought about attending that class. And then didn't.]

[i_speak_softly]

[He hadn't particularly noticed your absence. He shrugs indifferently and bends to his work.]

[markofthewise]

[... right. Just like Winry.]

... anyway, I've got stuff to do. Seeya, Don.