#a whole group got taken off the census when he went on a quick flight

[restinslices]

I swear I'm working on requests but I gotta yap for a second.

I finished episode 2 of the ATLA live action so idk if Kyoshi shows up again and is worse but I find it really weird that people are mad at Kyoshi for being harsh with Aang.

Kyoshi spoke softly with Aang in the original. I get that. But Kyoshi is not bullying or shaming Aang in this version. She's just being stern, which is something Aang needs. Aang does not need someone being all soft with him. He needs someone to tell him how it is and how it needs to be.

When Aang is worried about people getting hurt and Kyoshi says smth like "and how many people have been hurt because you weren't there?" I don't think it's her necessarily blaming him. It's her being frustrated because dude, you were gone 100 years and so many have died. You have to make up for it and accept this power you have.

If Kyoshi was just like "oh take your time Aang", people would get hurt. He needs someone to push him and get this shit moving. Also at some point she calms down and stoops to his level to talk to him. And the complaint about her saying "a mighty merciless warrior" is also weird to me because yeah, the Avatar's job is to maintain balance but there's a good chance you'll have to be a warrior to do that. You can't be worried about injuring a fire nation soldier. You have to be the world's warrior who is willing to do anything to keep the majority safe. I don't see why people are upset over this line. I thought the shit was heat. And I think it makes sense for her to appear instead of Roku because this is her island with her warriors. Of course she'd defend them.

In conclusion, Kyoshi is just fine in the live action. She's not bullying Aang, she's just being stern and telling him that enough lives have been lost and if he keeps denying this power, more will die. Get off her tall ass back.

And before y’all try to tussle, remember this is my opinion on the situation.

[heartlandhq]

❝ her eyes and words are so icy. oh, but she burns like rum on a fire. ❞

INFORMATION,

full name ⋯ Devon Olson age ⋯ 28 years old pronouns ⋯ She/Her/Hers origin ⋯ Las Vegas, Nevada affiliation ⋯ Charles B. Washington Library position ⋯ Scavenger

SURVIVABILITY,

advantages ⋯ resourceful & decisive disadvantages ⋯ untrusting & mercurial preferred weapon ⋯ hunting knife & 9mm Walther PPS

BIOGRAPHY,

trigger warning ⋯ gore

BEFORE DECEMBER 25th, 2017,

“What do you want to be when you grow up, Devon?” she’d be asked.

“I want to join the circus. I want to fly,” she’d say. That was her answer, for as far back as she could remember, that was all she’d ever wanted.

Luckily, growing up in Las Vegas, that dream wasn’t out of reach. Her parents, endlessly loving and supportive of their only daughter, had her placed in dance and circus classes as soon as she was old enough to enroll. And the very moment her hands grasped the aerial silks for the first time and her instructor let her free to swing in the air on her own accord, she was hooked – she was addicted.

This was what she was meant for.

Devon put in years of dedicated training and practice, and even went on to earn a degree at the local university for performance arts. The day she turned twenty, the verdict was in – they had accepted her application, she’d passed her audition, and she was being sent to Montreal to complete her training and rehearse her performances in the show.

Four years of Cirque University later, Devon finally took to the stage in Las Vegas, adorned in intricate makeup and costuming, and flew above the audience where her folks sat watching, beaming with pride.

Both on and off the stage, there wasn’t a single thing in Devon’s life that she’d change. Sure, she made her share of mistakes, from regrettable boyfriends to nights with the cast getting a little too loose with the liquor that flowed generously for them at any club they walked into, but she was living the Sin City version of the American dream. Her hard work had paid off, her career was her love, her troupe was her family, and when the curtain closed it was time to party, to enjoy the fruits of her labor.

December 21st, 2017

Devon was boarding a plane from New York to head back home from an aerial exhibition and workshop she’d participated in. Her intention had been to spend the New Year there, to watch the ball drop at the strike of midnight, but with the news of the infection spreading and people beginning to freak out and prepare for what some were calling the apocalypse, she figured it would be safest to make her way back home early, tuck in and wait for this whole crazy thing to blow over. She wasn’t entirely sure if she believed in the infection, but she sure as hell wasn’t about to take on the dangerous reality of mass panic, either.      

December 22nd, 2017

The pilots voice came over the intercom. He spoke quickly, his voice thin with what chilled her stomach to think was genuine panic as he explained that all flights were being grounded and they were being forced to make an emergency landing at the nearest airport just outside of Omaha, Nebraska. The moment they touched down and her phone connected with a signal, she sent her parents and director explaining the situation and whereabouts – asking desperately if the knew any other way for her to get back home.  

She never got a response.

AFTER DECEMBER 25th, 2017,

The play-by-play of how Devon arrived at the Washington library is a blur in her memory. Faded snapshots of gridlocked traffic and broken glass, streets gone dark and shadows stumbling from the corner of her eyes in every direction she looked. There were faces of those she traveled with from the airport, figuring there was safety in numbers as they tried to find somewhere safe to wait for the military to come and rescue survivors. (Because they were still coming right? Right?) They were scared, all of them, all the time, and when it wasn’t fear she saw in their faces, it was something much more horrifying: acceptance. That moment when their screaming faded and all that was left was the wet gnashing of teeth against flesh.  When the fight left their eyes as they welcomed death if only to stop the pain of being eaten alive.  

It was the first of February, and she couldn’t remember how she became the last of them standing. She couldn’t remember how she knew to find the library, or where the blood on the knife in her hand had come from – had it been one of her friends? One of the infected? She was freezing, hungry and dehydrated, completely exhausted when she came to the library’s door and collapsed.  

Upon recovering and finding a cautious sense of peace within the new group of survivors that had taken her in, Devon wasted no time in offering to be helpful in any way she knew how. Having rested enough to finally orient herself to the surrounding area, the usefulness of her circus tricks was obvious, and she was quick to put them to use as a scavenger.

Devon isn’t sure what the future holds, what should be done next, or if she’ll ever make her way back home. But for now, she sees the benefit of working with the others to build a secure enough foundation from which she hopes those questions can one day be answered.

CENSUS,

faceclaim ⋯ Valorie Curry played by ⋯ Ever