(no subject)

[Here's Azula in the dead of night, barefoot and in her robe with an afghan thrown over her shoulders, pacing back and forth on some generic hotel balcony-- she's muttering to herself, and lightly tugging at a strand of hair in thought]

[Suddenly she goes over to the balcony wall and, pulling a piece of chalk from her pocket, starts drawing on it-- for people who would be familiar with military tactics, it looks like she's mapping out army placements and lines of attack]