my skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel.

rxvelation:

   ✗;    Machine or  h u m a n  are not a part of who he is anymore.
           Amon is an idea, a  M O N S T E R that harbors bitter 
           resentment and a corrupt purpose, tainted by memory and
           blood. The horrors of the world have created a wretch, and beneath
           the cold indifference, the calculating actions, the precise 
           way that he speaks, there is a small part of him that has 
           perished—the part that remembers vast snowfields and
           bluer skies.

                   There is nothing left, other than the  R E V E L A T I O N .

    And he will cast down all who stand in his way. The Sato girl, 
    and the Avatar, with her. A weak argument flees from the other’s
    lips, nearly desperate, and the saboteur allows a cruel smile, a
    deliberate shake of his head. 

                  ❝ No, ❞

                         The man’s timbre is laced with smooth malice,
                             
                                   ❝ That is where you are wrong. ❞

                Bloodbending is his last resort. 
                    But he is not above reaching to grab her throat, slam the back
                            of her 
                                head
                                    into a
                                        WALL.
                                      

        Her reflexes are quick, but not quick enough.
        When Amon slams her head against the wall,
        the world spins and it feels as though her eyeballs
        have dislodged— left to bounce freely around the
        confines of her skull. Her pulse beats loud and frantic
        in her ears as long fingers come up to scratch and tug
        at his grip like a desperate cat-owl. Her legs kick out with
        equal fervor, aiming to hit at wherever she could reach.

               It’s fight or flight and everything within her is screaming
                                                        fight
                                                           fight
                                                             F I G H T !!!

        Asami uses the wall as leverage, presses her back
        against it and lifts her feet off the floor to k i c k Amon
        back from her; loosen his hold on her just enough that
        she can roll out of reach and scramble to her feet —- RUN.

                               She has to get out of here. Find someone,
                               anyone. She could handle herself on very
                               nearly every occasion, but this was not one
                               of those times. Amon was not someone to
                               fight alone, and expect a victory.