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    dots Submission Name: Fanfiction on ATLA 1%dots

    Author: MyPeriodical
    ASL Info:    18/m/pr
    Elite Ratio:    4.12 - 314/248/356
    Words: 723
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 145
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 4139

       I definitely plan to commit to this one. Stay tuned.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsFanfiction on ATLA 1%dots

    characters: Jet and Zuko
    setting: alternate-universe;
    Jet is a part of the freedom fighters of intergalactic space, where he leads a band of rebels fighting against the proletariat and their agenda to strip his people of their superpowers - though Jet has none but a heart of gold - Literally. Azula is sent to kill him, but not until after many creatures have been summoned to make the attempt to no avail.
    Zuko is the son of the head of the bourgeoise, named Ozai, who keeps the proletariat under his control. Azula happens to be his sister.
    Zuko happens to simultaneously elope with his then-girlfriend Mai, a friend of Azula's, who after a while decides to desert their relationship in exchange for her life back and then some. Out of spite, her father makes a deal with Ozai that Azula rig his ship so that he cannot return home.
    This is how Zuko accidentally follows the coordinates to a small dwarf planet where the freedom fighters reside in order to charge their ships with its static. The freedom fighters use a special alkali shielding watch that they can activate in order to stay warm with its resistance against the dwarf planet's nature.
    He is discovered unconscious in his ship by the band of rebels who are perplexed at his survival. They then carried him into a small tent prepared for injuries and laid him onto a cot.

    Zuko awakens and looks around himself; he is laying on a futon with one warm sheet over him. He eases it off of himself, and tip-toes to the opening where one man and a short boy guard him with pistols.
    Zuko finds surrounding him root vegetables growing from the head-up as the dwarf planet spins. Somehow there is light, and the planet is faintly glowing. Rather disoriented, he is about to faint when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Quickly, he moves away to look over and find a guy only a few inches taller than him with tan skin and a strange species of wheat hanging over his lip. His hand has not moved, and his fingers are long, gaunt and his nails have a scarlet array.

    "Looking spooked." He says.
    "The name's Jet." He offers a hand with a smirk on his face. When Zuko doesn't respond but with parted lips, Jet removes the hand from the other's shoulder, sucking his lips with an apparent fluster and whistles over a recruit who, aloof, seems to step so lightly that the dust at his feet makes mist.
    Jet engages in conversation with him for a short period of time, during which Zuko goes and browses the many roots being dug up with shovel-like hand gear. He was rather poor at starting conversation, but mainly this was because the freedom fighters were trying so hard to read him. There was a question going unanswered; who is he? Who sent him? And how could he possibly survive without an alcalix?

    During the time it took for Zuko to pick out a fruit, one that resembled a dragonfruit, Jet had finished his chat with the typically silent Longshot and continued to chew on his wheat. Jet twirled it between his fingers before his eyes landed subtly on Zuko's side-profile. The guy's burn made quite the impression on him. It practically covered half of the side of his face, and Jet could only presume that this was from an accident - Seeing as the guy was so terrible at driving.
    Another trait of this stranger struck Jet; that Zuko could be so naive that he bit into a root that one of the freedom fighters had handed him; one of which he could not have realized went uncooked. The rebels still squatting to the ground all looked to each other and laughed, Zuko still spitting the remnants of the vegetable's carcass. Jet's eyes filled with mirth as he bowed his head in an attempt to stifle his chuckle. Looking up once more, rather than to pick on the pale-skinned and scarred man, he dwelled on the scar that signified something akin to himself in a way that he couldn't care to pinpoint. After all, he tended to use a device to wipe his memory every so often so that he could rest.

    Submitted on 2020-09-25 09:50:53     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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