Manners maketh Bolin

by Dantegrey

Awakening as Bolin, was not what I expected at the end of my days. I have been called Percival, soldier, father, that bastard, but in this new world, I am simply, Bolin. Benders, Equalist, Spirits, and the Avatar, dear god this is a bloody mess; but there is no reason to be unpolite, after all; Manners maketh Man. [AU/ slight crossover with Kingsman]

1. 1-Welcome to your new life

I hate hangovers, and yes, I know that if that was the case, I should have not drunk so much.

I am dying of cancer; brain cancer to be precise; is in stage four and the treatment is Not going well. So excuse me if I drunk so much that I can say sod off to the pain. Medicine is not advanced enough to deal with it, so alcohol and willpower are the only weapons left I had to deal with the dammed sickness.

So, yeah, alcohol is cheaper and pretty much does the same bloody effect for what the docs told me. I am in stage four and something about metastasis and impossible to operate, where pretty much the only diagnosis that came my way.

In exchange for a night of rest, an entirely new world of pain; until I had a bottle nearby.

I gotta admit that it's not entirely healthy, but honestly, I had a depression the size of a continent and alcohol made me...more social. It prevents me from being a complete asshole to the rest of my family and the few good friends that stood my side; even if it is obvious that I do not deserve them.

Sorry, I kind of get angsty and broody very easily these days; I must apologize for that. Life has dealt these cards to me, and like it or not, I had to live; whats left of it, that´s it; with them.

In all, I try to summon all the will I can and help my family whenever I can, as much as I can, considering my sorry state. I can not complain about my family, they are the bloody best, although I am not.

Now; after this quick introduction about my sorry ass; you will understand, that awakening with a hangover was not a novelty to me. What it was a bloody surprise was it was only a hangover. Sure, my head hurt, but it was far from the chronically, head splitting, painful headache that crippled me most mornings.

In fact, I feel relatively great; better than I have felt for the year that I have pass fighting an uphill battle against a brain cancer. That´s kind of odd.

Groaning, I get up and massaged my temples trying to fend off a little the migraine; it is easy that I expected. My sore muscles screamed to me; I have slept in a very uncomfortable position, so it seems, however, there come to the first shock of the day.

I am young, waaay young than I should be.

A little personal info; I am almost ninety years old, a wrinkle, almost bald, white old man with a brain cancer.

My hand is young, my arm is muscular, I have hair…

Do not freak out; I am sure that there is a perfectly reasonable explanation about what the heck is going on here. Personally, I think I am hallucinating or something along those lines; a dream that my own mind pulls on me to protect myself; although I could be completely wrong, I am kind of at a loss here.

Raising from my bed, a comfortable; if not a bit spartan; a bed of wood, pretty similar to those on where I lived during my adolescence; when I worked at the factory of the city. The rest of the room was of a similar theme. Frankly, it was a bit of a blast from the past, I live in similar accommodations in my younger days, and that made me smile for a second.

Then I drag myself into the bathroom, switching on the lights of the room; and observe myself in the mirror of the bathroom.

Okayyyyy…I am so shocked that I just stare like an idiot to the one that stared back at me.

Who the fuck is this guy?.

I am on a completely different body of my own; I deducted this little fact because I moved and the body reacted to what I wanted to do. Leaving apart that, I have not the slightest idea what the heck is going on here.

I am Asian, I think, a youngster, a teenager. I have a stock solid complexion; after my time as an amateur boxer, I can say that this body had the perfect foundation for a super heavy class boxer; black hair, a bit of a chubby face and pale green eyes.

I am a bit freaked out, scratch that, I am totally freak out.

Oh, and I have been staring at my hangover face with a raised eyebrow for quite a bit of time. I think I am entitled to some confusion and shock; still, I am young again, a healthy and strong body actually. A body without bloody cancer that is killing it.

I am young, in relatively good shape, and without cancer making the twilight years of my life a torture.

All in all, I am kind of fortunate.

"Good morning Bolin". A voice sounded at my back and I turned to see who was speaking to me.

Another Asian boy was talking to me; he was very similar to me. A more thin complexion and with golden eyes, but the facial features and the black were similar. A sibling perhaps? judging from his appearance, he was more or less the same age as me.

"Uh".

Now, that was a Shakespeare level response, if I ever said one. I was being sarcastic by the way, but I do not know who…

His name is Mako, he is my brother, two street urchins that are trying to make a living in Republic City after our parents were killed by a Firebender mugger.

What in blazes?!, where that did come from?, that´s, how?, I am not, well, I am, but those were the memories of the body I was inhabiting.

Oh.

Wait, did I usurp this poor sods entire life?.

That´s disturbing and utterly wrong.

I am not a very faithful person; all my younger years working to the bone on the factories and the death of my first wife due to the horrid working conditions, soon turn my disposition to religion into a sour one.

That being said, one does not grow up in such heavy religious environment as I was, without acquiring some ticks and a bit of a fearful respect for what religious zealotry could do. And it is better to be on the safe side of the equation and respect all religions; who knows, maybe there are right and there is something waiting for us after we kick the bucket.

Souls were a bit too abstract for me, a person that grew among the aftertaste of the smog of the industrial revolution, but it was a nice thought to have. With that being said, my soul seems to have usurped this young man body and that was disturbing on so many levels that it was not even funny.

I felt so disgusted; and it must have shown in my face, judging from the worried looks that the boy in front of me was showing; that I bend over the toilet and puked my guts on it. For god's sake, I have; not only usurped the body of a young man but effectively killed him.

For all intentions and purposes, this Bolin kid was no more and I had just stolen his life.

I felt guilty. I felt utterly disgusted with myself for feeling as I was feeling.

I was dying, and even if I was a total wreck; emotionally and mentally; in my original body, I was already past the acceptance phase and ready to depart to the afterlife and whatever the heck waited for me there.

Instead, I had a second chance at living, by blatantly stealing the life of another young man.

Worst of all, I was happy.

I have been battling cancer for a year and for an old man like myself, it was an uphill battle. Not to mention I felt like a total asshole for what I was doing to my family and few real pals that stood by my side.

Now, I was young again; free of pain. Residing in a healthy and strong body, that could bend the elements? wait, what?.

Mako was at my side in a second, as Pabu; my fire ferret pet; climbed over the toilet, chirping to me in worried tones; mimicking the worried expression of my brother. I grabbed Mako´s arm and keep puking whatever alcohol I had in my stomach; accompanied by a side ton of bile.

The latter came from nausea that I was experimenting with what I have done or someone has done with me and Bolin. Even if I was nothing but the chew toy of a disgusting bastard of a superior entity that has pulled this one on me; I was the one that had to deal with the cold, hard, fact that I have pretty much, erased this Bolin kid and took his freaking life for myself.

Mako and Pabu stood by my side, and that only made it worst. I was not Bolin, but they see Bolin and it was clear as a day that they were a tight knitted bunch, a real family. And I was like a parasite that has stolen Bolin from them.

To be honest, Mako would be within his rights to roast my sorry ass with his Lightningbend for what I have done to him. Mako loved his little brother, it was the only family hey had left and I have killed Bolin, leaving Mako alone.

Bending, I am confused by that one; people can "bend" the elements? how does that even work?.

According to Bolin´s memories; Mako was a Firebender and individual that could bend fire to his will through Martial Arts? how does that even work?. I was a boxer in my youth; I even won a national championship, add my time as a soldier in the two World Wars and I think I could say that I understood how violence and combat works.

But this Martial Arts magic? this is a new level of weird.

I saw a lot of weird stuff in the wars, but for all I saw, I never saw anybody bending the elements like this body knew it could. A deep part of me was pretty excited about this miracles; like a child that saw magic for the first time, even if it was just parlor tricks; and really wanted to see if they were real or just a trick of my mind to escape from the reality on where I was now.

"Easy, Bolin, easy", helped me, Mako. The older brother of Bolin was worried for his brother; I can listen to it in his voice. And it only made me feel worst that I already felt.

"Ugh", I poetically groaned, before another span made me convulse.

I was a freaking poet today; Milton would be proud of my eloquence.

Yes, sarcasm and snark against the horror of what I have done. I developed that tick pretty earlier in my life. War does that kind of thing to you.

One could think that, as a war veteran, I would be less impacted by what I have done to Bolin. Well, I have killed before; it was impossible not to kill someone if you are serving as a soldier, during the two worst conflicts the nineteen century.

It was almost insulting; I survived two World Wars and cancer was finally killing me.

During the First war; I was barely a teenager and the soldiers kept me around as a convenient helper; I did a lot of ungrateful jobs, like toilet cleaning, corpse digging and the such; that killed my empathy quick. On the Second Great War, I was on the front lines, and boy, I was scared out of my mind ninety percent of the time.

In resume, I knew what it was to kill somebody; but I did as a soldier, on the battlefield; this was completely different.

Bolin was just snuffed and replaced by me. Easy as that, no one gave Bolin a chance, no one told him that he was going to be killed. Good lord, if I knew about this beforehand I would have preferred to die. I was old, Bolin was a young man with a family that loved him and I had nothing against the poor chump.

He was not the enemy, he was not a fellow soldier trying to kill me, he was not a menace to me in any way of shape, and by some cosmic joke that I do not even begin to see how it can be bloody funny; I have stolen his body and soul.

So, I think I am allowed some ranting about how messed up this shit was.

"Okay, no more alcohol for you", tried to joke Mako and I did all I could to chuckle between spans.

Mako did not deserve this, the little red ferret thing did not either; I have killed his owner and caretaker after all, but I felt that a bit of charade to quell their fear would be in order. I needed some time to sort my own thoughts in all this bloody mess and the memories of a body that was not my own.

Oh, this is going to be bloody confusing.

"I think you should get back to bed". Even in such a mocking tone; I could perfectly ear the worry that was hiding in his voice.

Nodding and grumbling I used his help to get back to bed and pretty much fall on it; shutting my eyes and groaning in a mixture of nausea and headache. Pabu quickly climbed on me, resting near the side of my head; quickly touching my hair with his snout in silent support.

Bolin loved the little furry thing; he was almost strangled by some kind of ugly ass snake to save the little Fire Ferret, and since then, they have been inseparable.

"I need to get back work on the power station", announced Mako from the entrance of the room. "Are you going to be okay?".

I lazily raise a thumbs up and a groaning affirmation. I can not see it, but I am pretty sure that Mako was not entirely convinced of it. However, they both know that Mako´s blue-collar job as electricity generator was one of the few reasons why they are not living in the streets again.

I need time to sort all this mess out, I need to focus and see what the heck is going here. Boy, this mess is something out of a bad comic, like those that my grandchildren loved. Mind you, that I am pretty sure that the protagonist never has bad days, and I was having a very bad day right now.

Mako left the apartment; a place that the owner of the Pro-bending arena left Bolin and him, as they train to be Pro-benders; and I turned around in the bed. I stare at the ceiling; almost on auto-pilot, my body started to scratch the fur of Pabu. The ferret seems to be content with that, although, it did not move from my side.

I am Bolin, now, but at the same time, I am someone else.

I am confused as hell, and guilty. I felt worse than the bloody Satan about what I have done to the poor chump, but the only thing I can do right now is to try to honor Bolin, by being the best man I could.

Is it a hypocrite as hell from my part? dear god, yes it is. But I do not know what more I can do, I am seriously out of my deep here.

Judging from what I recall of the memories of the boy; I am in a poor joke of the nineteen twenties but with people that can Martial Art the elements. Man, if people had this bending in my wars, the world would be a charred rock by now.

Fortunately, the tech was not that advanced; just the mere idea of a Nuke in this world was enough to make me shiver. I saw what that bullshit did to the Japs and I am not eager to see a Bis in this world.

Okay, bending; I am a bender, also, Earthbender for what I can recall; steam, gasoline, electricity; those are common things. Cabbage Corporation? what the heck? who in his sane mind call his business like that? anyhow, a man called Sato created the first cars, trains, and zeppelins.

So far, I am familiar with all the things that exist in this world; there is old tech, compared to my world; the only discrepancy is the bending and spirits.

Wait for a second, Spirits; with Capital Letters; and someone called the Avatar? is he some kind of Jesus kind of individual but with these bending superpowers or something.

Uh, yeah, he or she; as there have been several Avatars already in this world; is a powerful and unique figure that pretty much acts as a mediator between Nations and the Spirit World. Go figure, this world has its own Jesus.

A Jesus that can bend the elements to his or her´s will and kick ass like the best. Is quite different from what I knew from my old world, although, this Avatar is like a comic book character from my point of view. It would be interesting to meet this era Avatar, now that the previous, a man called Aang, died.

But first come first.

I am Bolin.

I despise myself for this; I maybe not a stranger to death and violence but I am not a freaking murderer. I was a soldier, and as a soldier, I fought and killed dozens of enemies; but never killed someone just for the laughs. Much less a freaking innocent kid that has done nothing wrong.

That is perhaps the biggest of my conundrums. Bolin was not a freaking kraut, determined to brain me; Bolin was just a kid, trying to survive in his era and not be a fucking dead-weight to Mako, who was trying his bloody best to provide a living for both of them.

Now, out of nowhere, I come and kill Bolin and took his life for myself.

It is seriously disturbing on so many levels that are not even funny.

Mako was out, working on the power station. The older brother of Bolin can Lightningbend like the best, and recharge the power plant was a very legal work for people like him, that could bend lightning. Not a common talent among Firebenders, but enough to make a profit out of it.

Unfortunately, Mako was still a teenager, both Bolin and he were twelve and fourteen years old respectively, and even if the station overseer turns a blind eye to his age; Mako was not physically ready to Lightning bend for hours. Although, the older brother was stubborn as a freaking mule and will never admit this.

As a person that knows how shitty the 20ies really were for factory workers; I can relate and empathize with them. I had to survive with what little had left, and I bury my first wife for the unhealthy conditions on where we had to work.

Thankfully, this world was way more eco-friendly and sanitary than my own; although for the moment, with the progression of tech and factories I fear that the smog will soon become a common thing in Republic City.

I am lost and to be honest, I can little more than sleep the hangover and the nausea; Bolin´s body is not accustomed to alcohol and was having a bad time processing it, so I shut my eyes and tried to catch some Zzs before I made any rushing decisions and screw all this mess even more.

As soon as I fall into the darkness, I found myself having an out of the body experience.

Okay, this is starting to get ridiculous now.

"Hello stranger", a warm and old voice called for me from the sides and when I turn to see what was I found myself looking at an old Chinese man, sitting behind a very expensive Chinese Tea set.

"Uh, hello to you to, good sir". Considering that spirits are a real thing; a bit abandoned, but real; in this world; for what I know I could be talking to Satan, so politeness and manners were never out of place.

Manners maketh man, wait, where did that come from?.

"Ah, manners, such a rarity these days; they are quite welcome", chuckled the old man and signaled in front of him, offering me a place to sit.

"Excuse if I appear confused and wary", I took a sit in front of the tea set, "but I am utterly out of my deep here; would you be so kind of explain me; what on earth is going on?".

The old man, dressed in a green tunic, smiled at me under his beard. He kind of reminded me of myself, before cancer and the shit that life throw at me.

I could recognize a war veteran a mile away, and I was pretty sure that he has recognized a veteran in me; young body non-withstanding. Survival, paranoia, the alertness of those that have lived the battlefield and survive; is etched in our body language.

"Let's begin with some introductions", the man served two couples of tea and I must admit that it does smell good. I liked tea, good tea was hard to come by and quite the expensive luxury.

"I am Iroh", presented himself the man and offered a cup to me. I took it with thanks and took a sip of the liquid, instantly liking the concoction; this was really good tea.

"This is really good tea", I smiled at Iroh. Iroh smile beamed as if he has seen a fellow believer in a land of heathens, but soon it falter when I spoke next. "However, I am not whom I am appearing to be".

"Yes", Iroh sighed sadly. "I know that it must be confusing, but it spoke well of you that even after all you have lived; you still have the compassion in you to felt guilt and mourn the loss of the young man inside of you".

"I would have preferred Not to", I sipped some more tea, enjoying the taste, "I am an old man, despite all my whining and grumbling, I was ready to die and be done with it; stealing this young man´s life is wrong and disturbing".

"I could not agree more with you", nodded Iroh, sad and solemn. "But in your case is a bit more different; Bolin is not death, well, not as we understood death anyways, Bolin and you, kind of have mixed into one entity".

"Beg your pardon?", I raised an eyebrow.

I am not much for all that metaphysical mumbo-jumbo about souls, transmigration, magic, whatever the heck. Although, it is a very real thing in this world and even Bolin; not precisely the most spiritual of the individuals; knew and acknowledged this fact.

"What is your name?", asked Iroh and I replied instantly.

"Bolin".

Wait, what?.

I am not Bolin, I am…. This is odd, I knew that I am not Bolin, that all the memories of Bolin are not my own, I remember the two Big Wars, I remember the fabrics, Verdun, Monte Casino, Arden, Canterbury, London. But for all that´s sacred I can not remember my own freaking name.

In fact, the only thing I could remember as a name was just a title that was not even mine.

I am Percival.

"See?", smiled Iroh; it was a supportive smile. "You have merged with Bolin; there are no two individuals, just Bolin with all the knowledge, experience and wisdom that you had from your previous life".

"Then why I know that I am not Bolin". I contradicted Iroh, after all, I was convinced that I was not Bolin and yet I was told his name as my own. It is as freaking confusing as it sounds.

"Because Bolin was the weaker of the two", sighed Iroh. "Despite all the good nature of the boy, your soul was stronger than his". Iroh suddenly smiled and took an empty cup of tea.

"Bolin was water, clear and pure", Iroh explained filling the cup with hot water, "you are the tea leaves, solid, strong, full of life experiences and knowledge". Iroh put the leaves into the hot water and soon they changed the content of the cup into the same pale green than the eyes of Bolin.

"Together, you are better than the sum of your parts".

"I will be damned, I kind of get it", I chuckled and as absurd as it could sound, I felt a lot less guilty. I have not killed the boy, heck, the boy has killed me, as I can even remember my own bloody name.

"Although", I can not but snark a little to Iroh; even knowing him for less than five minutes and I already could say that the man´s love for tea was a bit too much. "Tea metaphors?, really?, Mister Iroh, you love tea, way too much".

"Guilty as charged", laughed Iroh, good heartily.

I will admit that Iroh and I soon become good friends.

We bonded over a common love for tea; almost an obsession in his case; but we were both old war veterans that have seen too much and understood how high the price of blood, really was.

Becoming a good friend with a Spirit was not something that I expected yesterday, but it could have been worse. Also, Iroh did explain several things to me that explain pieces of what´s going on here.

Reincarnation is a fickle thing; the same powers that rule over the matter were also worried that something in the future is going to blast the balance into pieces; that something; long into the future, is going to affect the fabric of the reality and put the entire existence at risk.

Ironically, I was Bolin, in another timeline and universe. Essentially the same soul but with different flavor and experiences, so, the powers over this reality decided to give us a bit of push, and when I conveniently kicked the bucket, put me into the reincarnation circle, inside of myself.

Destiny was not written on stone, but guidelines and possibilities were practically assured that something ugly is going to happen and Bolin will be part of some of the events that will take place in the future and that will cause severe repercussions for the entire world.

On what role? no bloody idea, maybe only as a witness, may only be as part of the background, or a vital part of the script?. No one really knows, but Bolin will be important, somehow, in the future and the Spirits that pull this fast one on me, decided that it would be a good idea to gave Bolin; me; an extra ace under our sleeve.

As Percival, whatever that was; I understood the need of being careful and always be prepared, but at the same time I was a bit peeved with the Spirits for this. Bolin, I, Spirits, this is bloody confusing; may be the same, but we had our lives and even if we have merged, I still see myself as a parasite more than a symbiotic.

Well, it was a good thing that Iroh provide me with some answers; in my darker moments I was considering the idea of a knife to the wrist, but now, it would an insult to Bolin, to us, to die when we have all the life ahead of us.

And I really must stop, thinking and speak in the plural, I am Bolin, now, as utterly wrong and strange as it sounds, and the least that I can do, is to make sure that the boy becomes the best man he could.

And it was not an easy task, mind you.

Bolin was a gentle soul at heart and witnessing the assassination of his parents in front of his eyes has left a mark on him.

Bolin was strong, very much so, he had the body and the skill to be one of the most powerful benders ever, but every time he attacked with his bending skills, Bolin´s subconscious remember the death of his parents and subconsciously hampered himself.

I don't have the same problem; I have blood in my hands, I have killed in battle, taking lives in the name of a country, an ideology or just to survive another day and be back to my family. Bolin was pulling punches all the time; me?, I kill mosquitoes with nuclear bombs.

Now, it was just a matter of tapping into the potential that I, Bolin, had and see where does it guide us.

On that front, Iroh recommended me to do not only focus on the bending.

In this day and age, bending has become something way different from what it was.

Back in the day, bending was more spiritual and an art, that pure combat skills. With the pass of time and the apparition of different technologies that leveled the field between benders and non-benders, bending becomes more mundane, than the spiritual art that it was in the past.

Iroh himself, become one of the most powerful Firebenders of his age, not because he mastered fire, but because he understood and study the interactions of the elements. Also, he traveled to the Spirit World and become enlightened by it, becoming Spirit Touch, a person that could, see, touch and even mediate with Spirits.

Technically, only the Avatar could mediate between the two worlds, but the Avatar was not omnipotent and a helping hand was never a bad thing. The plus of becoming a better person and more powerful bender through that experiences was a nice bonus too.

So, I have quite the task ahead of me.

I must become the best man that Bolin could be and prepare for an unknown and vital task; or tasks, the number was also unknown; that would fall on my lap at some time in the future. Unfortunately, I had no idea of what kind of task will that be; it could be something akin to my experience on the war or it would be something as simple of a kind word at the right moment, who knows.

Iroh and I parted ways as friends, and I took good note of seeking out the wise man, whenever I found myself in the Spirit World; as a parting gift, Iroh revealed to me, some of his own tricks when he was in the mortal world.

As an Earthbender; and soon Metalbender, if I had a say in the matter; Firebending Katas are not useful for me, but Iroh show me that Zuko; his own nephew, used Firebending as it was Waterbending, channeling fire as it was akin to waves.

Now, that was interesting; elements are not as different as people believe and everyone can learn from others, it was just a matter of seeing past the surface differences and recognize that we are all sacks of meat at the end.

Firebenders or Waterbenders, they bleed red in the same way, they cry in the same way, laugh, depress and live their lives the same way. Bending the elements was pretty much the same way.

Fire like a wave, earth like a hurricane, air like an avalanche; only the Avatar can even dream of pulling that one out of his or her hat; but for mortals, it was possible to achieve a level of mastery that would reach legendary status.

But first comes first; I am trapped in a fourteen years old body, so the sooner I get to work, the better. And I have to have a conversation with Mako, the boy deserved something better than me trying to pull a charade that the old Bolin was still around.

It would be an interesting change in our dynamic, but my brother deserved better. Mako has worked his fingers to the bone taking care of me since the death of our parents, I cant but respect that and by so, I will try to help him become the best man he could, instead of being forever dragged by me.

Awakening into the apartment that the arena owner has borrowed us was not a pleasant experience; the hangover was still there but on the positive side of things, horrid nausea and guilt of what I have done were gone.

It was a relief, truly.

Taking care of the evening routine, as I have awakened around the seven pm; I showered myself and brawled a little with Pabu. The ferret needed to be cleaned as well, but the little beast resisted each step with all his might.

After a refreshing shower, I stepped out of my room and took a look around the place. Bolin had the memories of the place, it was a nice condo on top of the arena. A bit spartan, but the wooden furniture was in good condition and it has all the amenities and commodities a pair of kids like Mako and I would need.

I stepped into the kitchen and took out some food for Pabu, as a reward for the bath; at the same time, I started to explore what kind of gastronomy did these people have. Bolin was not a cook, but he knew the basic enough to make myself an idea of the kind of things that they ate regularly. And a shit ton of takeout, for what I can recall.

Anyhow, a good onion soup and some good food with be good for me. Mako will surely return exhausted from the power station, so a good and filling food would be a nice welcome for him as well. It is on the cards, that Mako will bring takeout, as neither of them was precisely master chefs, but their economy does not allow for such expenses these days.

Almost in auto-pilot, I did cook a simple dinner, clean the place around a little and eye the few possessions that we had in the apartment. It was devoid of any personality, for the simple reason that neither of the brothers had money to indulge in hobbies. The only thing that stood out was the gym like a machine, furniture, and the sort.

Hardly a surprise, considering that they live on the top of the Pro-bending Arena. Old man Toza helped them to start as possible Pro-benders, they had the talent, but they are raw and lacked any kind of serious training.

Bolin owned Toza a lot, the old man saved them from the streets and give them a chance. It was a very common thing these days, as much as the people think benders had an easy life and a pass to success, the harsh truth is that few benders get to something in their lives.

Case in point; the richest man of Republic city was a non-bender. Benders, to be completely honest, had only three real options in Republic city.

Crime, Pro-bending, and factories.

Only the two first were available for all benders. Crime always pays, that was one of the reasons why so many benders turn to gangs, moobs and the such. Pro-bending was not as cracked as people think it is; gear was expensive, training was expensive unless you got yourself a good sponsor, you are going to be struggling to made months end.

Oh, and the police; who was always eager to recruit some more Metalbenders. Truthfully, all benders could enter the police, but the majority of the real field work was done by Metalbenders with their armors and metal whips that could subdue easily all kind of benders.

So, in a resume, benders in Republic city was not a dream job; contrary to what the non-bending populace believe. I personally compare them to rock stars; once a bender gets some kind of achievement, everybody believes, every bender was in the same boat. They forgot about the hundreds that fall on the way up to the top.

I lack any information about how it works in the rest of the Nations; and the radio seems obsessed with Republic city, anything outside of the city was passed over as if it was of no importance. This entire place reeks of New York in the twenties and that was a nightmare on its own.

Considering the Eastern roots of this world, Republic city is like a rash on the surface of the world. They have begun to industrialize and that was something not good; not in a world that has been in such a balance with nature so far. Smog was the last thing this people needs, and turning bending into such a mundane activity was another botched up thing that should be corrected as soon as possible.

Frankly, the Avatar should be pointing out these bloody things. Industrialization; especially lights and plumbing, etc; was good over the paper but they have yet to realize the kind of cost that such a thing has in the world around them.

Not to mention that the Spirits are going to be seriously pissed off at the shit that will be flooding the natural emplacements close to factories.

If I recall correctly, there is a dark piece of trivia from the Hundred Year Wars of this world, were the factories of the Fire Nation polluted a river and the Avatar had to calm a seriously ticked off spirit. My memory of the tale was a bit skewed up, and I am sure that I am mixing tales, but the point remains.

Just wait until this rampaging industrialization hit a place with a serious Spirit resting and the Avatar will have its hands full with the shit hitting the fan.

With dinner made and the apartment spot clean; uh, I have just realized that I am a very nice househusband; I set the table and took a seat on the couch, petting Pabu with a distracted gesture.

Time to get some kind of game plan here. What I have and what I can get.

I am an Earthbender, I am of strong complexion and I am Spirit touched. That was a good resume. So, I need to train, to see the world and to learn as much as I could about bending, spirits, cultures, people, etc.

Now that I thought about it, I am pretty sure that that´s how the Avatar does to connect with all the world.

Mastering the elements means traveling to the Nations, learn from masters from there; and living with them during all that time; and that translates into an understanding of how they work, live and think.

Perfect for a mediator between the Nations.

I think I am going to rip a page of the Avatar book and did something similar.

I am a fourteen years old boy, meaning that I will only manage to enter in a pro-bending team once I become eighteen years old. I have about four years, more or less, to learn as much as I could from the world, before I get back to Republic City and become a Pro-bender along my brother.

From what I can infer of what vague hints I am allowed to know, Republic City will be pivotal in the events on where I will be involved. That means that I should not get too far from this damned city. Sure, the founders had all the good intentions of the world, but sometimes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. That, and the fact that the next generation is blinded by all this shiny new bullshit and does not think twice about the consequences of their acts.

I hope that the new Avatar would be more reasonable and will try to hammer some common sense in the heads of the people before they get too far in the industrialization and commit the same mistakes that my world did.

Such a beautiful word, it would be a complete pity that they turn into a post-industrial mess, like Europe and America become in the thirties and forties, until the Second Big come and screw everything to oblivion.

Spirits, the mere idea of what Nuclear bombs could do here; with Spirits dangling around; made me shudder. Oh, gods, just imagine it for a bloody second, the Spirit of the Atomic Bomb.

I shivered as if someone has danced on my tomb. Shacking my head I dispel such ideas as fast as I can; with benders around, clean energy is not going to be a problem. Instead of a race of gasoline and nuclear power, benders could easily and cleanly, solute the energy problem.

The door of the apartment opened and the voice of Mako entered the apartment calling for me. Even at this distance, I can hear the tiredness in his voice. Mako´s shifts on the power station were seriously taking a toll on him. On the other hand, Mako practice with his Lightning bending was good for him to gain endurance and increase the power of his bending.

"Welcome back, brother", I saluted the boy when he entered the house. Pabu abandoned my lap to sniff Mako and chirp at him in salute.

Oh, considering his face; his astonished face; I must have done something odd. But I will learn about it soon, I assume.

"Bo, are you alright?". Mako asked me, and judging from his voice, he is really worried.

As I have experience as father and grandfather lately; I can say that Mako is worried about me.

Mako´s life till this point has been pretty much, taking care of us. I am the only family he had left. Whenever one of my children botched it up, I worry and later tear them a new one. I think I did well, but in my later years, my cancer and my incipient alcoholism screw a little my perspective.

"Yes, still fighting a hangover, but for the most part I´m fine", I shrugged. "I made dinner, by the way".

And Mako´s jaw hit the floor.

"Uh, Bo, are you sure you are alright?", Mako reiterated, following me to the little kitchen of the room. His doubt must be up to the eleven when I raise the top of the little pot of stew that I made after raising from my hangover.

Mako stared at the stew, dozen of emotions showing in his face and then it hit me like a freaking hammer.

I made the same freaking recipe that our mom used to do.

I am a bloody idiot.

"I...". I don´t know what to do, I have just slap Mako in the face with an emotional bomb and I have done it, by moving on auto-pilot. It's time to pull a total bullshit move and pray to the spirits that I get out of this done without souring my bond with my brother.

"I dream of ma and pa"; I totally lied, but it called Mako´s attention from his memory lane and onto me. "I remembered the good old days, before, well, before they were taken from us".

Mako took a seat around our little dinner table and just stared at the stew and then at me, with a hundred different emotions running on his golden eyes. I really don't want to lie to my brother, it is just wrong, but is not as if could explain a thing that I am an alternate version of Bolin, that has fused with this world Bolin.

Okay, that little rant in my head surely sounds way weird said out loud.

Mako picked up the chopsticks and mix rice with the stew, taking a bite of the mixture and just stare at the infinite. I don't know if I get it right by freaking accident, but the trip he was taking down memory lane was clear. I serve myself a bit of what I have done and as soon as I took a bite of my own dish and I found myself following Mako down memory lane.

I nailed it; I am a better cook than I expected.

"Its pretty good, Bo". Said Mako almost on the verge of tears.

"Just as ma did". I am the one openly crying, Bolin, meaning me, is a big softie at heart and despite all the shit that I had in my life; a shot like this, right on the childhood, is enough to open the tear ducts.

"Bo, I, we...". Mako tried to explain the emotions that we have been experimenting. I am as much at a loss of words as him.

"Its okay, Mako, I know", my voice sound taken by tears, I have more than enough for the two of us.

Mako always has been a lot cooler than me; quite ironic considering that he is a Firebender, but alas, as a Lightning bender, controlling his emotions was a must or Mako risked to fry himself with his own bending. Again, contrary to popular belief, bending is as dangerous to the bender as it is for his enemies. A wrong kata, a wrong move in the movement and the bender could kill himself.

We dinner in peace and quiet for a while; emotions still running high for the both of them. That was a bit of a blessing in disguise, emotions are more than capable to turn the most rational individuals into morons.

Mako and I will talk. We need to have a serious conversation, I own that much to my brother and perhaps, we can start a new path for both of us.

As much as we have been doing relatively well for ourselves; and in other circumstances, I would have been happy as we are. However, in the future; at an unknown date and event; shit will hit the fan and we will be implied in events that would put our life´s at risk.

With a lot of black humor painting my thoughts, I realize that it was as if I knew that I was going to be enlisted into the Second World War with years ahead of the shit as I was going to face and time to prepare for it.

We ended our dinner in peace and quiet. We didn't need words, nor that we could say anything that would not sound tremendously inadequate. It was a good thing that I am at the wheel of the car, the original Bolin was not this open, and instead, he has passed all his life trying to hide his real emotions under a layer of goofiness and smiles.

Without a word, we moved to the couch of the apartment; I took a seat a bit after, bringing a couple of cold beers with me. A hair of the same dog that bite you and all that. Offering one to Mako, he took it in silence with a nod.

We are a couple of kids, not even teenagers; and we are already drinking like full-fledged adults. Well, I am sure that I am an adult, and that Mako has to mature fast after what happened to our parents, but if you paint us with twenty years more, I am sure that we will just look like a pair of tired adults, enjoying a drink in some peace and quiet after a very long and stressful day.

Pabu climbed to my shoulders and rested there, the little ferret has a full stomach, and just curled and yawned, ready to sleep.

With a lazy gesture, I just clicked the radio on, and the soft tunes of a popular song filled the room. For a while, my brother and I just enjoyed the peace that our little lives have dished to us; it was a rare occurrence, but in all honesty, It was just perfect.

Welcome to Republic City and the world of the Avatar, Bolin, hope you survived the experience.