The sun shines brightly from the middle of the sky, causing ripples of heat to shoot off the asphalt ground. Many people gather indoors to fend off the heat, while some choose to continue to walk around outside allowing the sun to gently kiss their bodies. Summer was coming to an end and yet it ached to be remembered. It’s the middle of August, as students return to school and homes are quiet while their parents are at work. It was a typical day in Terria. Yet the streets are loud with commotion. As people drive to work and honk their horns at one another, some get a little too angry at traffic causing a scene. Or even the people who chose to “save the planet” and walk to their destinations. People bump into each other and apologize while continuing on with their life, their apology is barely audible under the incessant chatter of people talking to their company or on the phone. People step over those who are less fortunate than them on the streets, begging for money and for food. While some donate to the groups on the corner spreading their messages about “Elemental Supremacy” or “Humans are the only ones with true humanity”! This is Terria. A country that ignores those that are pleading and only truly acknowledges what conveniences the group. People continue on with their days like usual, at least what the thought was usual. As the military and local police departments patrol the streets, both in cars and on the streets. At every door there is a mandatory hand reading to keep track of who enters and what they are. This is Terria. A country of false freedom and yet the most freedom anyone can get in this world. This is home.

The midday news reports about an uprising in terrorist groups on both the Human and Elemental groups, which is followed by the latest celebrity gossip. Everyone’s favorite show, “Am I An Elemental?” plays after the news. Everything is as it usually is.

Juniper Baron | 16 F | Non-Bender | Human

Juniper sits at her unassigned-assigned seat, right in the center of class in the second row to avoid drawing too much attention to herself. Her class also seemed to conveniently be placed on the second floor of her highschool which she could swear allowed the sun to beam in even brighter. She was half way through her school day, which meant there was only this class before having a thirty minute break for lunch. Yet her Terria history class seemed to always extend the fifty minutes of lecture into hours. The sun rose high in the sky, leaving the second floor to be pretty safe from the extreme heat that Terria was experiencing that day, and yet this also seemed to be the only classroom in the whole building where the AC seemed to be broken. Juniper began to build up sweat on her brow, one drop falling down the side of her face before finally reaching her chin. She fails to be able to concentrate on her lessons as she begins to feel her cami shirt stick to her back with sweat and her glasses develop a thick coat of sweat in between them and her skin. Her glasses have begun to defog from her brisk transition from the cool air conditioned hallway to the steam room she called her Terria History class.

She looks up at the white board in front of her as an attempt to distract herself from the awkward feeling of sweat along her body. The professor seemed to be just as uncomfortable as she was, developing sweat stains on their pristine white button-up shirt. When Juniper finally decides to focus on the task at hand she sees a horrendously drawn piece of the four “original” Benders. Each drawn with their own representative colors to help differentiate them from the others. “Who can raise their hand and tell me why these four Benders are so important to the history of this country?” The professor asks as if they are asking one of the most profound questions possible.

Juniper looks around the room, glancing to see if anyone would raise their hand. Catching glances from others who seem to be wondering the same thing. She looks around the room and notices that some people are experiencing the heat in this classroom at varying degrees. Some are in a pool of their own set as she is, some seem to be adapting slowly by removing layers or fanning themselves. Some even seem as if nothing is affecting them. “I wonder if they’re fire elementals,” she mutters under her breath. Or at least she thought she did.

“Yes, Juniper? Do you want to share that thought with the rest of the class?”

She shoots her eyes forward as she feels the stares from her classmates fall on her. “I was just saying that the answer to that question is ambiguous.”

“Please elaborate.” The professor's eyebrows curl up in curiosity. Juniper's face glows a little red as she wasn’t expecting to be asked for more information.

“Depending on how the answer-er feels about the war, the answer would vary,” Juniper says in a questioning manner. She sinks into her seat as she waits for the professor to continue on with her lesson.

“Very true, which does bring me to ‘The War’.” The professor continues on with their lesson, trying not to move around the classroom and cause them to increase the size of their already noticeably large sweat stains. Juniper sighs as the attention is brought off of her.

Coffee shops always have this relaxing white noise that seems to envelope the whole building. The soft chatter of a not-so private conversation, the tapping of keys on a laptop, even the barely audible smooth jazz that plays from the speakers. Which no one truly notices or listens to. This constant chatter was relaxing, and for much of the day it was just groups of two or three sitting in the lounge for hours at a time rarely ordering more than one thing the whole, yet when the sun is the highest in the sky the little coffee shop is like a completely different place. People crowd in and there’s a line leading all the way to the front of the store. The workers become overwhelmed by cleaning, getting the orders done, and taking the orders. They twirl around each other gracefully, showcasing their innate ability to work together. Leia on the other hand stays at the register. She grumbles as she realizes that it’s finally hit the time where everyone decides they need a cup of coffee as a pick me up.

Leia rolls out her wrist and smiles as the first person walks up to her register and with a warm voice asks, “Hi, what can I get for you today?” As each person gives her overly complicated orders and rethinks what they want repeatedly, Leia masterfully rewrites their orders over and over again. For the most part it’s upper class workers coming to the shop for their fix of caffeine on their lunch break, Leia can also spot them out and is thankful for their efficiency and desire to be in and out. Yet there are still some people who come in asking for trouble.

Leia watches as an older woman walks up to the register still seeming to be glancing at the menu deciding what she would want. “Good afternoon! I’m ready to take your order whenever you are.”

The lady taps her hand repeatedly on the counter in front of them, not even acknowledging Leia’s remarks. With each tap Leia notices a new customer scanning their wrist at the door and walking in. Something she’s used to at work, but rarely sees when she’s back home. Finally after the line had gained what seemed to be another ten orders, the lady glanced at Leia.

“Are you ready?” The lady asks with a snarky tone.

“Whenever you are ma’am.”

“I’ll have a caramel latte with two extra shots of espresso and extra whipped cream.” The lady pulls out her card before Leia is able to respond and inserts it in the card reader. “Well are you going to ring me up?”

Leia takes a deep breath and processes the lady’s card. Her coworkers look at her in worry, knowing that Leia won’t stand up for herself. The lady walks away and sits down at one of the tables by the front door.

Leia continues to take everyone’s orders, cracking jokes to try and lift up their busy day or just asking about their day as well. Not a single person takes more than two minutes at a time to place their orders. Once the line has died, she stretches her back and goes to help make the coffees. Her and her coworkers begin to call out orders to be picked up at the front counter. Some grab their orders before proceeding back to their table with computers or a book, while others grab it and immediately leave the building to head back to work or continue on with their day elsewhere. The lady on the other hand never walked up to receive her order, instead it laid on the counter for minutes before she came up to complain. Leia seemed to become increasingly agitated, the store becoming a little bit cooler like there was a gentle breeze moving through it. So her co-worker simply gave the lady her cup of coffee and sent her on her merry way.

Leia Thorn | 20 F | Bender | Air Elemental

For a while the story isn’t busy and there’s enough time for Leia to freely move around from making the coffees herself and taking orders. She silently grumbles to herself when she looks around at her co-workers and notices she’s the only one who is trained to use the register on shift right now. While the large group of people who came in during their lunch had left, some stragglers walked into the store. Mostly getting a croissant and coffee combo and deciding to sit down at a table. She smiles at each one while taking their order, sometimes even grabbing the croissant herself to give to them after they placed some money in the tip jar.

After returning to the register Leia looks up and meets eyes with a teenage boy. She envied his blue eyes. She smiles at him, half sincerely and half hoping to make some extra tips. “Hey! Welcome, what can I get you?”

She looks at the teenaged boy and then outside, noticing that it’s still bright out. She glances down at her register and sees that it’s still around 2, school hasn’t gotten out yet. She chuckles to herself as she remembers when she would skip classes as well, pretending to be sick or just saying she was going and then deciding last minute not to. For the most part there wasn’t a line after him and she was hoping to take her time on this order as some extra time to relax before being able to get off work herself.

Grayson “Gray” Varon | 22 | M | Human | Mentions: Leia, Ace

“You’re brooding again, son.”

Sapphire eyes refused to meet the soft gaze of the woman seated just across from him. Streams of light pierced through the semi-open blinds to the room they both sat in; cascading upon the female in a manner that almost made it appear as if she herself was glowing. The larger window was more than enough to light the small living space, which was small enough to feel cluttered with only a bare minimum of furniture filling the living room. The kitchen was only steps away, and even that minuscule area of the one bedroom apartment was lit fairly well by the window.

“I’m not brooding,” Grayson responded pointedly from a worn, navy colored cloth chair, “Just thinking.” The blond was certainly thinking hard enough to have his brows heavily furrowed, his lips pinched together tightly in unspoken vexation, and the index finger of his left hand irritatedly tapping the armrest of the chair he resided in. In his other hand held the medical papers delivered to his mother’s doorstep early this morning, the written words having been carefully read over a hundred times by now. But not by her eyes. She never did care for what the doctors and various specialists said about her incurable condition. But Gray found himself wearing the weight of her burden on himself, which in some way, allowed him to feel as if he was shielding her from the pain of her reality.

“You really best toss those out, Gray. It’ll do neither of us much good to stew or constantly worry about something neither of us can change.” She softly chided as she gathered a breath, and began to feebly rise from her own chair. Only then did Grayson’s eyes untether from the papers, but only to ensure she didn't need his assistance. “I worry about you, you know that?” ‘I always have’, were the additional words she left unsaid. Gray could tell from her tone though, and the way her eyes reflected a mother’s sense of fret when it comes to their child’s well being.

“That makes two of us then.” Grayson replied, sighing in disdain as he tossed the papers to the end table beside him. She only shook her head in response before slowly disappearing into the hall, where Gray knew she was entering the bathroom. A few seconds passed before he peeled himself up and away from the chair he had been sitting in for far too long. Casually placing his hands into the pockets of his black military grade trousers, his cerulean orbs observed the sliver of Terria that the window offered a glimpse of. Or at least, the glimpse of the veil that settled over Terria. Normalcy, mediocrity, freedom, and maybe even a hopeful sense of equality… were all ghostly concepts that society seemed to nonetheless cling to for their own peace of mind. Or perhaps even, Grayson was just merely being too cynical for his own good.

A buzzing sensation from his right wrist beckoned him to place his thoughts aside as he pulled his hand out from his pocket. His gaze briefly scanned over the message on the watch, his jaw faintly clenching in response. Turning the watch off and retracing his steps to the chair only to grab his black, light weight -made to wear in peak heat-, military issued jacket, the blond strode in the direction of the hall before he paused to announce his departure. “I’ll be back tomorrow, mom. Call me if you need anything.” He stated, in a tone as gentle as Gray could possibly speak in.

</////////////////////>

Just over ten minutes had passed before Grayson’s car came to a stop outside of a more mundane appearing cafe. If it weren’t for the longer drive ahead of him to attend the weekly national security briefing, Gray wouldn’t have even considered stopping for coffee. However, he exited his vehicle and proceeded at a moderately brisk pace towards the entrance, repeating a muscle memory action of allowing his hand to be scanned by the reader, and finally he entered. Blue hues briefly flickered around the immediate area just to get a sense of his surroundings, as per his usual habit when he entered a new space.

Few people were seated, relatively minding their own business. Though the couple of double takes in his direction didn’t go unnoticed. The looks certainly weren’t spurred from the mere sight of a soldier; that was an all too familiar thing in Terria. So Gray merely attributed it to the name stitched into his jacket that people cued in on. Unless individuals of Terria paid attention to political affairs of the country, or the individuals in seats of power, ‘Varon’ would more than likely just be a name easily enough to look over. But for those that were in tune with politics, then the name brought to mind the face bearing the title of Secretary of Defense, Deryk Varon. The father and son were hardly ever together in the public eye, so the connection of their relation could truly only be drawn by their matching golden blond hair, and the similar looking expressions they shared.

Stepping into the line, Gray’s eyes traveled up to the menu, his gaze narrowing in silent scrutiny. Call him a simpler entity, but he couldn’t fathom the obsession for the complicated variations of coffee out there. A splash of this, a pump of that… it was utterly ridiculous to the soldier. People are pathetic. Drawing his sights down to the scene at the front of the line, Gray’s eyes locked onto a teenager -probably no older than 14 or 15- making his own order. The soldier relented a roll of his eyes, teenagers. School skipping really wasn’t the biggest of Gray’s priorities though, and lucky enough for the younger man, Gray wasn’t bored enough to make this situation a priority. From the boy, Gray moved his neutral gaze to the female taking the order; a seemingly bubbly brunette. It could have very well been a facade to demonstrate exceptional customer service on her end, which Gray figured was likely, but in the off case… her demeanor could have possibly been genuine. But still not likely.

Gray knew his gaze was a little unnecessarily hard -cold even-, but it usually always was. Again he found his eyes wandering to the menu, even though he already knew the very simple order he had to make, but it was something to occupy him while he waited. Grayson wasn’t necessarily in a rush either, he abhorred the weekly briefings, but he wouldn’t relent in attending on time. A very small part of Gray wished that kind of initiative and diligent dedication incited a fraction of diluted pride in his father towards him, but that too was an unlikely thing.