Chapter Text
"How has the recent news regarding Mugm affected your views on him?" One of the reporters' voices is louder than the rest, shoving a microphone in Stormz's face. "What?" He's not sure of what news they could be referring to.
"Your ex-teammate, TV, stated in an interview recently that Underscore hates the avatar and anyone who's stronger than him. Is that true?" Stormz stares at the camera pointed at his face... did Puqi say that?; "Not that I am aware of... Mugm's always been courteous and given me a mutual respect." Stormz is well aware that Puqi most likely just said whatever to stir the pot, considering he's out of a job.
"There's also a petition to look into the ethics of the tournament 3 days ago. Since his royal highness stated that Underscore has sustained long-lasting nerve damage." Everyone just loves making Stormz's life difficult. Stormz doesn't respond, he continues pushing past the reporters and into the hospital. It's only when the hospital's guards come out to chase the cameras away does he get a breather.
"Hello." Stormz greets as he walks up to the front-desk. The front desk person stares at him; "What's your business?" The man looks to be in his mid-to-late twenties, with brown hair and brown eyes. "Mugm Underscore. Should be in the—" The man looks up at him the moment he says Mugm's name, "Sorry, he's not allowing visitors right now." Fair enough, actually. Stormz is silent for a few seconds to collect himself; "Visitors as in just me or is it the time? Because I know people have come to see him."
The man types something on his computer; "One of his guardian's has requested that the avatar doesn't enter his room." The man tells him, leaning into the monitor. Stormz sighs dramatically; "But I came all this way... could you have my letter delivered, please?" He's not past begging and batting his eyelashes a little.
"One of his guardians will have to review it first before it gets to Underscore." The man holds out his hand, Stormz pauses for a moment; "Who's his guardian?" Mugm's turning 18 in 3 months, who would it be? "The adults of the Air Family along with Prince Wyll." Ah. That makes a lot of sense, actually. "Wyll's his guardian—?" Stormz mutters as he hands over his envelope. What a strange relationship those 2 have.
"I will have one of his guardians review the letter the next time they come in. Goodbye, Avatar." Great. He has to push through the mob of people outside the hospital again. Fun.
Mugm hopes Dolphin's house catches on fire or some shit. He seethes as he holds onto the two metal bars like they're his lifeline. He has to do this. Testing is in a month; winter tournaments are in two. The occupational therapist is watching him, providing inspirational quotes every-time he drops an F-bomb.
His legs from the knees down feel like nothing. It feels like his body ends where his thighs are, he can't control his legs. "Perhaps we go a little slower?" Lucy is the name of his therapist, she's very kind and takes a very gentle approach. Unfortunately for the both of them, Mugm doesn't have the time to take the slow and steady route.
"N-No, it's okay." Mugm stumbles a little as he continues to hold himself up using the bars, this is seriously an arm workout. He's not wearing any shoes, trying to feel for any semblance of his seismic sense he worked so hard to train over the past 5 months. Lucy frowns in his peripheral but doesn't intervene, writing something down on her clipboard.
He flexes his thigh as he drags his leg forward, having to look down to see the position his right leg is in and whether or not it'll be able to support his body. He takes a step; he doesn't immediately pummel to the ground so it's a success. There's a knock on the door; Lucy walks over to open it.
"Hey," Wyll waltzes into the room with a bag, walking over to the bench by the mirror. "Hello, Your Royal Highness." Lucy promptly blows a fire nation bow, her right fist connects with her left palm. "How's Mugm doing, Miss?" Wyll asks as he unpacks what looks to be a stack of paperwork and sets it beside him on the bench. "He's... faster than most." Lucy admits, she sounds more cautious now that Wyll's spectating.
"And... you're letting him?" Wyll raises an eyebrow, looking up from where he's mass-signing papers with his singular feather and ink. "I can do this shit, Wyll." Mugm's never doubted Wyll since they've become fighting partners. Even when Wyll's talking about how he feels inadequate, Mugm never said anything of that sort. So Wyll doubting him and his abilities... it doesn't feel just.
"You're human, Mugm. You've never had anything like this happen before." Wyll reminds him, going back to flicking through stacks of papers and adding his signature to the bottom. Mugm takes another step and almost falls to the ground, if it wasn't for the metal he bends out of instinct coming in to act as a cane. Wyll is up and by his side in an instant even without him saying a word.
"I'm fine." Mugm insists, letting go of the cane he bent out of the metal bars in the physical therapy room. He bends it back into place with his right hand, relishing in the feeling of bending magic coursing through his veins for the first time since the tournament. "Could you please get him some water, Miss?" Wyll asks, batting his eyelashes and flashes the therapist his 'charming' (Mugm finds it insufferable, since he only uses it when he needs something) smile.
"Of course! Just press the button if you need me." Lucy leaves the room, putting her clipboard down on a table. The moment the door clicks closed, Wyll shifts his posture; "The Avatar wrote to you; he said he's sorry." Mugm's head perks up at the mention of Stormz. "Why's he sorry?" Mugm wouldn't be. Stormz cheated, that's on him. He can't be sorry.
If Mugm was in his place, he would've taken the victory with him full stride. Why is Stormz sorry? "He said he hopes your friendship is still 'reciprocated,' I hope he knows it never was mutual." The thing is, Mugm finds himself agreeing with Wyll because he's unsure of
THE END