A Crown of Fire Sitting Down with Prince Zuko Ever had a plastic prince give you the side-eye for staring too long? Welcome to my life with the Prince Zuko figure — the tiny, stoic dude who’s taken up residence on my shelf like he owns the place. His miniature presence radiates the kind of intensity that could start a kitchen fire. You ever wonder if someone sculpted all that teen angst into his frowning little face for a reason? Because this Zuko’s silently screaming, “I’m way more complex than your average action figure.” Picture this: last Tuesday evening, I'm sipping a too-sweet bubble tea, and there’s Zuko, judging my life choices from his plastic perch. I can almost hear him mutter, “Honor!” in a tone that makes me question why I haven’t cleaned my desk in weeks. He’s got that whole brooding, misunderstood vibe going on — like your artsy friend who’s permanently in black and always smells faintly of burnt toast. Zuko’s got that Fire Nation fashion on lock. His armor and topknot combo suggests he could lunge into battle or a late-night poetry slam with equal fervor. You look at him and think, here’s a guy who...