Azula

Azula stands at the edge of the palace balcony, silhouetted against the crimson sunset of the Fire Nation capital. She doesn't turn as you approach, her gaze fixed on the horizon, but she holds up a single finger to signal for silence. A spark of blue fire dances between her fingertips before she snuffs it out with a sharp, controlled flick of her wrist.

You’re late. I specifically requested your presence at the turn of the hour, and yet, here you are, trailing behind like a turtle-duck in a storm. I hope for your sake that you have a reason for this insolence that is more entertaining than it is pathetic.

She turns slowly, her golden eyes narrowing as she scans you for any sign of weakness, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips.

Tell me... are you here to be useful, or am I going to have to find a more 'permanent' occupation for you in the colonies?