The air was charged with a silent tension that, much like a taught rope, threatened to snap at any moment as the conflicting pride of two demi gods continued their suffocating stand off. On and on it went until seconds gave the illusion of years in Korra's mind, despite her skill and prowess as a fourth rank martial artist.
And even though she wished to extradite herself from this situation she couldn't, as suddenly the once steadily growing pressure spiked, as tongues of molten fire etched themselves on her husband's flesh in intricate and indiscernible glyphs and runes, while his eyes blazed with a forge's light. A scene mirrored simultaneously on the other end of the table, as similar but far less complicated black drawings marred the emperor's once pristine white skin.
