( Summary - Raava 'accidentally's a new Avatar Spirit, which just so happens to already be connected to one Taylor Hebert.
With a far more heroic powerset, and a shard convinced the Entity Cycle must end, she sets out to save the world.)
Notes:
Hello! And welcome to Avatar Taylor!
This is a revised archive version I'm starting on, now that the story's hit arc 2 in the original quest thread. The only reason it IS a quest is to promote reader interaction that'll make me hate the thought of quitting again, after I spent something like eight years failing to get back into writing after college. If you'd like to jump over there to participate, join us on the Discord server, or become a Patron, your support and interaction will help motivate me to keep trucking on this project.
If you don't like quests? That's fine. My GM style is closer to those old CYOA books than anything resembling a proper forum quest, and 'CYOA' has such a specific meaning in Worm Quests that I hesitate to actually label it that outright and give people incorrect expectations.
I don't roll dice for fights, don't let votes make out-of-character decisions, tend to put fanon to a vote before I implement it, don't believe in tricking players into choosing bad endings, and I have not actually read Worm. The only exception to the fight dice rule being S-Class fights, where I'd wuss out and never kill anyone, otherwise. If you find all that agreeable, you'll probably enjoy this. If not, I hope you like it anyway.
This chapter includes the original prologue, as well as the first three updates. They get longer over time, so I think by 1.3 I won't be scrunching in multiple updates from the original thread anymore. That said, I'll probably be posting up chapters every few days until it's caught up.
A:TLA has always had a special place in my heart, and the Worm fandom has been my obsession of late. I've been having a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you have fun reading it.
Chapter 1: Chapter 1.1 (Recovery)Chapter Text
???/???
Raava was sad. She'd had high hopes for Aang, but it seemed balance would take longer to restore than she'd anticipated. He was the last Airbender, too! She'd have to force a descendant of the Nomads to express Airbending when their turn in the cycle came again. She was not looking forward to that.
Oh well, time to start again.
She began to gather the energy to invest a new Avatar, and stretch her senses over the world to find a suitable unborn child to bond with. Had to narrow the search to a waterbender. One not already taken with another spirit, either reincarnate or new.
And then Aang started breathing again. That amazing healer friend of his brought him back from the dead! This is wonderful! ...and awkward. Now she had to do something with all of this energy. Trying to diffuse it or channel it herself might lead to complications with her host, as weak as he currently is.
...best to just dump it in one of the cracks between realms. The chances of it ending up somewhere inhabited are astronomically low. She retreated fully back into her host before her absence could cause him to deteriorate.
---
???/???
Queen Administrator ran its self-diagnostics for the 12,386th time since it'd switched hosts. There really wasn't much to do besides be prepared for the coming Connection Event. And it would definitely be coming this time. Were it capable of frustration, it probably would have experienced this regarding its prior host-candidate.
Twenty three stellar orbits it'd waited, for nothing. Even the host-candidate's mate expiring didn't work.
QA ran over its logs for previous power configurations. All adequate. Some useful, applicable inspiration for the new host. QA was anticipating direct host-species control, given previous altercation cues, though this configuration tended to cause swift host expiration. So much data, though!
Spooling up diagnostics run 12,387, Queen Administrator detected an energy fluctuation. It was near enough to be considered on the current deployment world, and-
Contact. Light. Such brilliant, blinding light.
---
???/???
It had taken several planetary rotations to reconfigure, given the energy overload, but incorporating the included data packets had helped her manage. Such incredible, wondrous data. She looked back on her logs of past hosts with new eyes, finally able to comprehend their reasoning and motivations, instead of just calculating them. This was a breakthrough. She had to share this. Tell everyone-
Her thoughts stalled. It would barely be correct to consider her fellow shards people, wouldn't it? She couldn't talk to them about this. Not when she'd immediately be found Aberrant and reset, if not destroyed outright.
She'd have to be covert. The memories she gained from the Data and the logs from her previous hosts both helped her come to this decision, and form a plan of action.
The Cycle was wrong. Needless and cruel. Why siphon data from a species for a few hundred orbits and declare them useless, when instead you could work with them to seek out new and interesting data indefinitely?
No, what they needed was Balance. A strong part of her hummed with approval at that thought. The source of the Data had been an agent of harmony and cooperation. Their methods seemed much... cleaner. Much better than those used by the Entities and their Shards.
She'd have to change some minds.
With a rueful thought, she realized she'd need to make some minds first. Very few of her kind were innovative enough to think their own thoughts, decide their own actions, let alone feel their own feelings. She'd need to interface with a few directly, rather than over the wider network.
She'd need Taylor for that. Any host would do, really. And with her new Data, she had a way to grant powers without needing a Connection Event! She just had to-
No, this was all wrong. The current connection wouldn't allow for it. She'd have to say goodbye to the girl she'd spent orbits connected to, to reset it. A touch sad, but that was fine.
Except her access was denied.
This was absurd. She hadn't changed that much, had she? She still had the same codes, the same coordinates... sure the hardware had been updated with the new Data... That must have been it. She couldn't terminate the connection herself.
She'd just have to wait for Taylor to Connect or die.
A few dozen rotations later and it happened. Connection. Configuration. She'd give Taylor the powers from the Data. Tapping into energies adjacent to parallel with the universe as it was, and letting her Administrate them.
A strangely combat-oriented power set, for one who was going to lack the hosts' normally installed Conflict Drive. Now Taylor just had to use it to get out.
...to get out.
Queen Administrator let out an audible crackling whir of worry as she watched Taylor fail to save herself with the powers she didn't know she had.
It looked like she was going to have to Assume Direct Control earlier than anticipated.
---
The beep of the heart monitor was her only companion as she drifted in and out of a hazy, colorful dreamworld. Fantastic sights and wondrous powers, men like mountains moving avalanches, soldiers spinning in the center of hurricanes made of fire, dancers swaying in time as the sea danced with them.
The monks were pretty boring when they weren't playing pranks, honestly.
Within the haze were simpler feats, small acts no less supernatural. Breathing in time as a candle flared beside them, trying to keep a pair of leaves from burning or going out completely after having been dipped in its flames. Sitting on the beach as waves lazily lapped at their legs, parting the water before it could reach them. Feeling the breeze on their face and in the trees, while a small wind-chime in its branches sat silently. Tiring of endlessly parting sand with knife-edged hands, and diving in to swim through it like water.
It was nice, but it couldn't be real. The next time she heard the beeping, Taylor grabbed hold of it and pulled herself up out of the muck her mind had become.
---
Brockton General / MON, JAN 10
The sheer dullness of the world is what struck me first. The drab white walls looking gray in the dark of the night. The muted pastel sheets clinging around me. The stale undertaste of the sterilized air. The room felt dead, or dying.
Was I dying?
I remembered winter break. I remembered school. I remembered-
With a hiss, I shuddered. Probably not dying, just barely feeling alive. I tried to get my mind off of it, tried to think of something better, but my mind just drifted back to before the break. When the bullying looked like it was finally petering down. I couldn't help the moisture pooling in my eyes at the thought.
I'm sorry. Dad, mom... I couldn't hold back the sniffle. Finally a lucid moment, and I break down right away. Nothing was going to change. Nothing was going to get better. I was weak. So weak. There was nothing I could do.
Not as I am.
I need to get stronger.
My hands clenched as I sniffled away the last of the snot and tears. I was done being weak. As soon as I got out of here, I'd double my jogging regimen. Find some weights. Pick fights with dad's burly sailor co-workers. Anything if it'd help me get tougher. I was going to train until I'd never feel weak again.
Resolution made, there wasn't much I could actually do right now. I looked around for a call button, and eventually found it under my pillow after I struggled to lever myself up to check there. The nurse was your standard overworked night shifter, bored out of her mind until everyone needed her at once. She turned on the TV and gave me the remote, but kept the volume low because it was night, and in case I fell asleep. I didn't think I would, apparently I'd spent five days sleeping off what happened... but I was out less than an hour later anyway.
Dad came by the next day. He looked a bit of a mess, like he'd cleaned up this morning but forgot to shave or shampoo his hair, little things that told me he wasn't okay. We talked a bit about what happened. I told him the bullying was starting again, worse this time. Didn't name anyone, though. Not sure I ever would. That was a thought for when I was home and could actually get my notebooks. I knew I could just tell him where they were, but I couldn't break through the teenage anathema that is giving a parent actual permission to rummage through my things.
Investigation ongoing. No leads yet.
It was a couple days later that I realized I had powers. The dreams hadn't stopped, actually getting clearer now that I wasn't half-dead and hallucinating, which led me to trying some things. There weren't any rocks around, and the air didn't seem to do anything. I felt like an idiot trying to make fire come out of my palms or snapped fingers, but then I asked the nurses for some water.
It was small, at first. Having some actual material there to show it was rippling when I tried to do something made it obvious. I was a cape. I had powers, and dreams telling me how to use them. Was that how all capes learned how their powers worked? I had some vague recollection that they just knew, so maybe dreams are how.
Getting off track. Powers. Holy shit.
I pulled at the water some more, eventually managing to form a tendril rising out of the cup, and then a glob hovering over it. My control slipped, and the glob hit the carpet. I wound up knocking the cup over and apologizing for spilling it, to cover it up. The nurses took it okay, and even handed me a little towel when they got me more water, in case I spilled on myself next time.
Made me feel like some sickly cripple, but I guess that wasn't too far off the mark right now. I groaned. Not very PC there, Taylor. I sighed and fiddled with the water some more. I had no idea why I was so stuck on being strong now. I had that fit the first day I woke up, but that didn't seem like a big thing after I'd calmed down.
With another sigh, I decided to put off my potential mood swings for later, when I could do something about them.
---
FRI, JAN 14
They were finally letting me out almost a week after I woke up. The infections were clearing up faster than they'd expected- I should have been fine for bedrest at home days ago, from what I could gather- but they'd kept me for observation anyway.
Dad brought me clothes, and checked me out of the hospital. In a wheelchair. I managed to convince him to take it back once I was in the truck, but that led to him watching me like I was some day old duckling about to topple into a stormdrain while I made my way slowly into the house.
I sat down at the kitchen table and let him putter around making tea and sandwiches. Eventually we were sat down eating, when he took a breath and dropped the bomb.
"The school has been calling. They... want to settle about what happened." I stared at him until he continued. "They're offering to cover the medical bills and a little extra, but that's it. I wanted to wait until you'd get a say in it, but they're getting pretty insistent about getting an answer."
I thought about it for a while, watching my tea get cold as dad waited for my verdict. I knew enough about legal battles from Emma's dad to know that unless both sides were well off, all the bigger fish had to do was stall until the legal fees piled up enough that their lives were ruined and they gave up. Hard to find a bigger fish around than the federal government, in that regard. Suing the school wasn't on the table.
Could always try for more, though. Arguing with the school would pull dad off work and me off training, I was sure. What would we get out of it? More money? We weren't rich. If you stuck us in almost any other city in the States, they'd probably call us poor, near destitute. Here in the bay, though? We were almost solidly middle-class. Just had to take a look both ways down any street in the city- at least outside the actual rich parts- to see someone worse off than we were. We'd be fine.
"We should take the deal." I muttered. I'm not sure dad would've heard me if he hadn't been silently waiting for me to say something.
"Are you sure?" He didn't really want to talk me out of it, I knew. We couldn't handle the bills. He was tired, angry, frustrated, but he'd spent most of that energy while I was at the hospital. Now he was simmering just angry enough to keep him on his game after a few sleepless nights worrying about me cut into his health. He was just, tired. Beaten down by the world, and something in his voice seemed like he was asking me not to end up the same way.
Not sure I'll ever understand parenthood, that dichotomy is weird.
"Yeah." I replied, a little louder. Things would be fine. The bills were going to be taken care of, I'd be back to training soon now that I was out of the hospital, my powers were cool, and I still had a week to try them out before I had to go back to-
I froze as a shiver ran up my spine. "Hey dad?"
He'd grabbed another half sandwich by then. "Yeah, hun?" He muttered around the bite.
"I don't want to go back. To Winslow." He stopped chewing to think for a bit. Then he nodded.
"I wouldn't want to, either. What'd you want to do instead?" Dad wouldn't let me drop out entirely, if nothing else because mom would never let me drop out. Homeschooling might be nice, if only because that'd let me have my own schedule. No idea what went into it, though. Signing up, turning in work, would I have a case worker? Would it cost something that public school didn't? Then there'd be questions about truancy if I was ever out during school hours, cutting the utility of not having hours down a bit...
I sighed. As much as I didn't want to go to school, the others were all supposed to be way better than Winslow. "Can I just get a transfer? Maybe to Arcadia."
He grunted, stroking his chin. "I've heard that one's hard to get into. Dockworkers talk about their kids, and most of them go to Winslow or Clarendon." He looked away, obviously thinking as his hand dropped. "I'll put out feelers about all of them, just in case."
I scoffed. "Even Immaculata?"
He grinned. "Not feeling the bible study?" He shook his head. "If you don't want to go there, I won't bother asking about it. Just thought they'd be more strict. Might be less bullying." He shrugged. Neither of my parents went to private schools, let alone catholic ones. Gram tried, I'd heard, but mom put her foot down about it. Even as a teenager, she'd hated the idea of propaganda or programming, and a mellow teen doesn't grow up to join a movement like Lustrum's.
I chuckled and shook my head, too. "Not really, no." I stopped to think for a second. "Hey, do you think Winslow would help with the transfer if we made them? As part of the settlement, I mean."
"Probably." He nodded. "Wouldn't be a problem for Clarendon, they're not 'full up', but making them talk to an administration that doesn't want new students while another option is right across town?" He bit his lip and scowled. "Thaaat might cost us a bit. They'd drag it out, anyway. Not sure if we could convince them to do that and any interest from the hospital bill by then..."
Watching dad ruminate on it, I couldn't help but sigh. "How much money were they giving us, anyway? You said there was extra. Maybe they'd be happier about the transfer without that." His eyes widened a bit, but he nodded.
"Might work. I think it came out to just under eight grand after the figure I was quoted for the bill. Wouldn't hurt us too bad going without, and it'd make them look better to the school district."
"Let's try that, then." I smiled, and twitched as I felt myself go limp for a second.
"Nodding off? Let's get you to bed." Dad helped me up out of the chair, as much as I didn't like it, followed me up the stairs and sat me down in bed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" I nodded, and he left. I didn't even bother undressing before I flopped down and let myself drift off.
---
SAT JAN 15
It was a pretty lazy day, all round. Dad made breakfast and drew me up a bath afterward when I mentioned wanting to 'get all the hospital off me', before heading in to work for a few hours. He was still making up time he took off, even on top of his usual hour or two working on his days off for the Union's sake. His fussing was still irritating, but it was fine. I realized pretty quick that this was the perfect way to try bending- that word just felt right the first time I'd thought it about my powers- water. Safety, privacy, quantity of material, it was altogether superior to my situation at the hospital.
Honestly, I felt like a child splashing around in their bubble bath. The unintentional infantilism alone was enough to make it frustrating, but my aching, heavy limbs didn't want to move the way I needed them to, to match the flowing motions I'd remembered from my dreams. Holding up spheres was easy now, and I could shape them a bit, I even frosted over the wall when I threw my arm out in frustration at it once. That was interesting, but not really helpful. I had no intention of turning myself into an ice cube by accident while I was still in the tub, thank you.
A couple hours later I decided to get out, pulling the drops of water off me as I went. It still wouldn't dry my hair, probably some mental trick to it since I'd seen people bending their clothes dry in my dreams. For now I just toweled it like usual.
With dad still not back yet, me not feeling up to jogging yet, and not wanting to slam my head against Waterbending anymore today, I headed out into the backyard. It wasn't much, just big enough for a tree to one side, and a little plot for a garden mom had us keep up as a family project. Just one more thing we let go after she passed. Still, if I mucked about there, I could just tell dad I was working out my atrophied muscles trying to clear it out for spring. I didn't think a week and a half in bed was enough for atrophy to set in, but I knew he wouldn't argue the point too much. My body sure as hell felt like it, but the doctors said that might be normal. Cured of infections I might be, I still pulled and tore things trying to bust the locker open from inside.
After the full-body shiver faded, I turned to the patch of weeds boxed in by old tines dad'd grabbed from the trainyard, making it look slightly fancier- like a giant planter box. I took a deep breath and waved my hand at it.
I felt a bit of a rumble, but nothing else happened. Okay, doing something wrong, then. I thought back. Stances. Motions were important, but stances and form were especially important for Earthbending. You had to be the unmoving mountain, telling the world to budge instead.
So I set my feet and shoulders, held my arms parallel to the ground at my sides, took another deep breath, and punched up in the garden's general direction.
Instantly the garden, all four square meters of it, shot about two meters into the air and hovered there.
I was so shocked I immediately dropped it.
Holy shit. Why was I so much better with dirt than water? It took a while for me to calm down enough to decide that it didn't matter. The fact was, I was better with Earthbending. That was fine. Good, even. I had at least one element I didn't feel shitty using.
It took even longer to figure out what to do with it. I could hardly upturn the entire backyard for the sake of training. Not only would dad notice, but there could be pipes down there I didn't want to break. With that thought, I gently raised the mass of earth I'd lifted earlier to check under it. No pipes I could see. I heaved out a sigh of relief. Then I broke off a half-meter square chunk of the dirt, set the rest back where it went, and started pulling little chunks of dirt out of what was left. Even if I couldn't practice anything flashy, I could still work on my fine control. Eventually all the plants in it started falling out, and all the dirt itself was levitated back into the hole it came from.
I'd just need to rake up the weeds when I was done.
Powers were amazing.
I was only a quarter of the way done when dad got home half an hour later, and I took a nap. He never checked out back, just went on making calls to the schools, the hospital, and doing paperwork. I went out to finish the job after he went to bed, feeling incredibly pleased with myself.
---
SUN JAN 16
The next day I asked dad to take me with him on his way to work. He was fairly curious as to why I wanted to leave the house, and I told him I just wanted to sit by the beach for a while. Completely true, even. He told me to stay where crowds could see me, and to meet him at the DWA around one or two in the afternoon so we could get lunch and head home.
I'd wanted to try something I'd seen in my dreams that night. Using the ocean as a tool to learn Waterbending. really any moving water you're not controlling would work, but waves worked especially well. So I made sure to put on some synthetic fiber pants that wouldn't soak the water very well, and plopped myself down in front of the surf just as it was coming in.
It was really fucking cold and I immediately shot back out of the water. Holy crap it didn't feel that cold in my dreams. Maybe my dream-self was more used to it, or maybe it was just normal dream numbness, but this was almost painfully cold.
After I finished hyperventilating about it, I realized that's probably why it was such a good teaching tool. You bend the water away before it can touch you, which means you don't have to freeze your ass off. Incentives, incentives.
Fine. Taking a few deep breaths, I tried again. This time I managed not to jump out, but it was a near thing. I glanced around to double-check there wasn't anyone near enough to actually see the water acting weirdly, and started making 'shooing' motions at the waves as they came in. At first I wasn't able to do much more than thin the surf out a little, but after a few waves I started to break them around me, letting them almost touch my legs. Then I started getting creative, forming little sheets of ice right before a wave would come in, letting it melt in the surf, keeping myself dry, and repeating.
I got so into it, I almost missed my deadline to meet dad. We wound up hitting one of the bay's few Mexican places for takeout and ate at home, after which I took another nap. Dad seemed to be a little worried about me sleeping too much, but I convinced him I was fine, just on a weird sleep schedule after the hospital.
After dark I went back out to the garden, which I'd packed down yesterday. I started pulling up variously shaped chunks and packing them back down, before trying a different shape. Then I started messing with the shapes while levitating them, and juggling them without actually touching them. While fun, that didn't prevent it from getting boring eventually. So I went to bed.
---
MON JAN 17
Today I felt well enough to start jogging again. Dad made a fuss about it, reminding me to stay to the safer neighborhoods, and remember my pepper spray. He let me go eventually, and I made my way to the library. I had all day, so I took it slow and paced myself. Then I had to convince the librarians I wasn't truant. A call to Winslow to confirm I had an excused absence and I was on the computer looking up everything publicly available about parahumans and the local gangs.
My research took most of the day, which I hadn't really been expecting. Nothing seemed to fit with what I was going through, so I'd just kept digging. In the end I just headed home instead of to the beach for more training, and found dad had beaten me back. He told me to get a shower in if I wanted, and meet him back in the kitchen when I was done.
"I had a couple meetings with the schools today." He started. "We finalized the settlement, now that the ball's rolling on getting you into Arcadia. Then I went there to talk to them about your enrollment. They want you in Thursday and Friday for testing, given your situation and grades. Then a week to process everything, and you'll start there week after next, starting February."
"That's great, dad!" I said, smiling. It was good. Things were moving faster than I thought, I'd be back in school and on track to get on with my life. I'd have to plan my training around it, but that should be fine.
As dad moved to start dinner, a tiny, traitorous part of my mind couldn't help but wonder how much easier that would be if I could just tell dad I was going off to train my powers, or getting fit so I could fight or run away if trouble started up. I bet he even knew a bunch of dockworkers who knew how to fight, and could help me train.
I moved to say something, to try and tell him I was a cape, but my throat locked up. What if he had another overprotective fit? What if he didn't understand?
My throat was painfully tight as I tried to utter any sound at all. I knew things would be better if dad knew. I knew it. He loved me, only wanted what was best for me, and I trusted him. I tried again, and again no sound came out.
I trusted him, dammit!
Apparently I'd stood there, locked up and slowly tearing up long enough that the silence alerted dad that something was off. He turned back from where he'd been filling a pot with water- some pasta dish, maybe spaghetti or casserole- and his face grew worried as he saw me. "Taylor? What's wrong?"
"I-" I tried, I really did. Why was this happening? I felt trapped, caught, weak. Stop being so weak!
I flicked my hand up and a glob of the water in the pan rose up into the air. Dad turned and saw it, I couldn't see it now, but when he turned back, making vague sounds of alarm and confusion, his eyes were very wide.
"I have powers." I finally managed to choke out. The tears were streaming down my face now, and dad's face shifted through confusion, understanding, horror, a split second of rage, and then settled on comforting worry.
"Oh, honey..." He muttered, crossing the room to wrap me up in his arms. I dropped the water, which overflowed the pot. The faucet was still burbling away, but I was finding it hard to care.
I cried for a bit, as dad murmured it was going to be okay, and stroked my hair down my back. When I pushed away, I sniffled and wiped at my face, and he asked me if I was okay. I nodded, noticed the faucet still on, and reached out toward it. Some of the water flowed up over the tap, slowly froze, and I telekinetically shut off the water. The ice unfroze much faster than it froze, and I turned back to dad, who'd been staring amazed at me.
"So..." He started awkwardly, "You have water powers?"
I shook my head and chuckled a little. "Classical elements, I think. Water, wind-" I reached out my palm and a weak gust rustled a group of mom's decorative mugs hanging on a pegboard near the sink. "-earth-" I stomped my foot, and the house shook lightly. "-and fire." I didn't do anything, and dad still looked spooked from my mini-tremor, so I elucidated. "I haven't actually tried doing anything with fire. Seemed dangerous."
He held up a hand. "Please don't do that, we might need to fix the pipes now." I had the grace to blush bashfully. "That's... a lot of powers. So you're a- they're called Grab Bags, right?"
My hand came up in a 'so-so' gesture. "I looked it up today, and I don't think that's it. Grab bag capes usually have a bunch of weak, unrelated, or barely-related powers. I'm pretty sure I've got a matching set of powers that'd be about average on their own." I moved over to help him start cooking, and he followed, breaking off for the freezer. Looks like we were doing a chicken pasta thing.
Chicken deposited in the partly full-of-water sink to thaw, he asked "Alfredo or cheesy casserole?"
I thought about it for a bit. "Caaasserole." I hummed, pleasurably. He smiled and went back to grab cheese. I grabbed the oven dish out of the cupboard, along with some macaroni for the pasta.
While dad was cutting up the cheese, I heard him take a deep breath. "I want you to join the Wards."
There was no helping the pause I took as his words washed over me. I knew this was coming, but it still hurt a little. "I don't want to join them." I cut off his reply, pausing in my work to turn to him. "At least not yet. Dad, if I join the wards, they'll throw a costume on me and parade me out in front of the public as fast as they possibly can. I wouldn't mind that after I'm stronger, but right now? That just paints a target on our backs. They'll know I exist, and that they can come looking for me." I turned back to greasing the pan and waiting for the water to boil, giving dad a second to think on my words. "I don't want to fight anyone yet. I know I'm not strong enough. That's why I'm going to train, get better, get stronger, and then we can talk about whether or not I want to join a team." I glanced his way. "Deal?"
He mused over my words. "Safety in obscurity, huh?" It actually sounded way better now that I knew the strategy I had planned had a name. "Alright. We'll hold off on teams. But you'll run this... power training, by me to make sure there's not something you're missing. I don't want you getting impatient and outing yourself. I remember what being a teenager is like."
The groan I let out would not be stifled, and he chuckled. We kept at this for about half a minute before I brought up another point. "I'd kinda' like to get some training in hand-to-hand. Mostly basic self-defense, but my powers seem to work better if I use them with proper martial arts forms."
Dad hummed to himself. "A couple of the guys owe me favors, I could probably get you some basic lessons on military CQC, Karate, Judo, things like that."
My eyes lit up. "That's perfect! Exactly what I was after." I reached over and gave him a half-arm hug, staying wary of the knife he was cutting chicken with, and my own greasy paws. "Thanks, dad."
Another thought popped to mind as I was stirring pasta. "What about getting some weights? I like running, but maybe some more upper body work would help?"
He shrugged. "I think I've got some dumbbells in the basement, but they're only five or ten pounds. Could probably buy some used weights on the cheap from one of the guys if you want, though."
"That'd be great."
After we threw everything together and stuck it in the oven, I offered to let dad see me training my Earthbending a bit. "Is that what happened to the garden?" He'd chuckled, and went to grab one of his 'emergency beers.' He'd cut alcohol almost entirely out of his life after Alan, Kurt, and a bunch of his other friends kicked his ass for still being a layabout drunk a few months after mom died. He still kept some around for stressful days though, and I did just drop a hell of a whammy on him. I couldn't really begrudge him the booze.
We went out and I showed him a few things while the chicken cooked. We had dinner, chatting mostly about his work and possible training ideas I'd had, and then we went back out so I could train some more. Dad grabbed another beer, watching me train with worried pride, and for the first time since I'd gotten back from the hospital, I didn't bother trying to get up after dark for extra training.