AN/Obligatory Disclaimer: Avatar- The Last Airbender, The Legend of Korra, and the characters and elements therein are the property of Bryan Konietzko, Michael DiMartino, Nickelodeon, and Dark Horse Comics. The Outsider/Alternate System and the Asleep-Verse (and its characters) are the creations of Gone2GroundEX/Cameron. Any other elements or sources of pop culture referenced in this story are the property of their respective creators/owners. I make no claim to them, and am simply a humble fan using them to tell a story. Any OCs that appear in this story, however, are mine. This includes myself, i.e. my self-insert character, through whose eyes this story will be told.

Seeing as my last attempt at an SI was a creative flop on my part- due to my general lack of knowledge concerning the Mass Effect universe/franchise and my feeling like continuing would be a disservice to "true fans"- I decided to try my hand at a Self-Insert in a world that I'm actually familiar with. Thus, this story was born. With permission from Gone2GroundEX (aka, Cameron), I made use of his Outsider/Alternate System and set this story in a tangent of the Avatar Universe that's connected to his Fire Emblem: Awakening SI, Asleep. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the story, the long and short of it is that Self-Inserts are chosen by "The Pantheon"- literally every god-like being in existence- and sign a contract before being dropped into a fictional world as their idealized selves, changed mentally and physically to better survive in their new environment. However, nature abhors imbalance, so whenever these "Outsiders" change too much about themselves, a being known as an "Alternate" is created, something of an arch-nemesis that represents everything the Outsider hates about themselves. It gives them something to worry about, something to give them a challenge. The more powerful an Outsider makes themselves, the stronger their respective Alternate becomes.

Power comes with a price, after all.

Anyhow, that's it for the standard disclaimer. Let's go ahead and get things started, shall we. Before I forget though, I'll have some- hopefully- scene-appropriate songs listed under each chapter title, as well as their corresponding scene. Feel free to play those songs when the opportunity presents itself, as they'll hopefully fit the situation. Now then, on with the show!


Chapter 1: Beyond The Sea.
"La Mer (Beyond the Sea)" by Django Reinhart: "Beautiful, life-giving air."

"Car 24" by Yoko Kanno and The Seatbelts: "Is that a polar-bear dog?"


... Ugh, wha-? What the?

Cold! Wet! Wet and cold! Cold and wet!

Salty. The ocean?

Idiot!

Breathing bad now! Very bad!

Drowning!

Swim, stupid! Swim!


Splash!

Air. Beautiful, life-giving air rushes into my waiting lungs, every cell in them burning as they cry out for precious oxygen. I cough a couple of times, forcing spurts of seawater out of me as I tread water, doing my best to stay afloat as I clear my system of the offending liquid. Finally able to taste relatively clean air, I look around in an attempt to get my bearings. There's just so much inherently wrong about this situation that it's hard to process the entirety of it all at once. What I do know thus far is that, one minute, I was sitting at my desk typing out some job-applications for the great post-college hunt, and the next I'm nearly drowning in the middle of the ocean-

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHN!

- Scratch that, in the middle of some harbor, with no idea of where I am or how I got there. Not to mention how there's even a harbor in the middle of a land-locked state like mine. I mean, I live in the Mid-West for crying out loud. There's no major body of water for miles, much less an ocean. Just where in the blue Hell am I?

And that's when I finally look to behind me and see a massive, sprawling metropolis rising to greet me with shining towers and ornate skyscrapers. Scooting along at a leisurely pace between the towering buildings are what look like old-timey zeppelins, and I immediately think back to the Gotham City of the 1990's Batman cartoon I grew up with. Yeah, the good old days, back when Bruce Timm's DCAU had some of the best shows on TV, DC Comics hadn't gone all grimdark, and Superman was still a Boy Scout who wore red undies. I shake my head, in an attempt to refocus my brain on what's currently important, i.e. figuring out where I am. A quick glance to my right firmly arrests my attentions, and I slowly turn back to stare up at the impossible sight before me, jaw slack in disbelief.

Standing tall and proud in the middle of an island a few miles from where I'm currently treading water is a massive statue, one that doubtless puts Lady Liberty herself to shame in terms of grandeur and scale. However, unlike the French-made guardian of New York, this statue is male and bears a very familiar design of Oriental origin. A monk, posed in a heroic manner, holding a staff as his robe billows about, frozen in an unseen breeze that gives him an air of righteousness and greatness. And on his bald head, an all too familiar arrow tattoo slopes downward towards his set brow.

Avatar Aang.

"Holy shit, I'm in Republic City," I breathe out in dumbstruck awe, mind racing a million miles a minute as my attempts to grasp my situation redouble. How the Hell is this possible? Simple, it isn't! This is supposed to be real life, shit like this doesn't happen in real life, it happens in fan fiction! Bad fan fiction at that!

Another earsplitting horn from a passing ship reminds me that I'm currently floating in the middle of Yue Bay, and that I'm likely to get run over by one of these big-ass metal freighters if I don't amscray ASAP.

"Questions for later," I think aloud as I turn towards the mainland and freestyle my way to dry land. I can ponder the impossibility of how I just randomly ended up in my favorite fictional universe when I'm on dry land, and hopefully in some dry clothes if I can manage it. A sea-worn dock up ahead is thankfully low enough for me to pull myself up out of the water and onto the mottled wood, which now leaves me vulnerable to the chilling breeze coming off the bay. Great. "Screw you, nature," I snap at the elements between chattering teeth, rubbing my arms in a feeble attempt to get warm in my sopping wet clothes, and praying I don't catch hypothermia or something equally as nasty.

Another biting gust of wind is the universe' response.

"Goddamnit! Knock it off!" I roar into the wind, snapping my arms to my sides in defia -

THUNK!

Jeez Louise! What the Hell was tha-... Whyyyyyyyyyyyy does that duffle-bag that just feel out of nowhere behind me have my name on it?

Stooping to examine the object in question, I warily pick it up and ease the drawstring open. Careful now, don't want anything explode or something. Huh, it's open now, and no explosion. Small miracles, I suppose. Now then, let's see what we have inside.

... This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder. Inside is what looks to be some kind of care package, a few odds and ends that'll make things a bit easier in terms of blending in with the 1920s-1930s setting that is LoK. There's a change of clothes- period appropriate, because of course - a small leather-bound pocketbook, an ink pen, a wallet stuffed to the gills of yuans, and Ooo! a pocket-watch! Snazzy. But what really grabs my attentions is the pair of weird-looking wrist-gauntlets I pull out of the bag next, weirdly familiar looking gauntlets at that.

"Are these... Assassin Gauntlets?" I query aloud, turning the objects over in my hands, inspecting them with renewed intrigue. I remember seeing concept art for these things a couple weeks back, hype for Assassin's Creed Syndicate compelling me to check out the rather Batman-esque additions to the Brotherhood's arsenal; but these things look completely different. For one, there's no Hidden Blade or Dart-Gun, just the rope-launcher, so there's that. Second, said launcher looks more like a compact version of the RCPD metalbenders' armor spools, and the cables end in blunted points. There also doesn't seem to be a triggering mechanism that'd cause it to fire.

"So, how do they expect it to work?" I slip one of the devices over my wrist experimentally, preening momentarily and internally marveling at how badass it looks- as well as the fact that it eerily fits my arm as though it'd been pre-molded with me in mind. I unconsciously shift into a fighting stance, drawing back for a punch. "Just punch and hope for the be-"

THWIP!

CRASH!

... What.

I stare at the broken crate a few yards away from me, mouth agape as I snap my head from the splintered wood to the gauntlets and back several times in disbelief. I was just messing around, but somehow the cable just shot out like a rocket and impaled itself in one of the shipping crates a ways down the pier. Almost as if I'd...

"No way. There's just no freaking way." I look back at the gauntlet, as though the device could give me some kind of answer, curiosity and confusion chief at the forefront of my mind as I follow the length of wire to where the ball now rested. There's no way I did that. I mean, I'm not a metalbender.

Am I?

Steeling myself for what may come next, I try and remember the Chu Gar stances I'd seen Toph, Lin, and Suyin use in the series, half skeptical and half hopeful that it'll work. Much to my surprise, my body adopts the stance perfectly, as if I instinctively knew it by heart. But, that's not possible. Since when do I know this stuff like I've been practicing it my whole life? I mean, I took Hung Gar primarily out of enthusiasm for the show- even if I sucked at it and had to quit half-way through because of the stupid failing economy- but that was in high school, so shouldn't this be completely foreign to me now? Feeling an understandable panic start to rise in my chest, I break the stance and try centering myself with the abdominal breathing exercises I remember from class. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Slow and calming, just breathe. Whatever's going on here, you can figure it out, but you can't do that unless you're calm.

Feeling significantly better, I try the stance again, focusing on the cable like before. I try and envision it retracting into the gauntlet like it does in the show, following my movements and my will. I want it to retract when I pull back my arm, like a pulley system.

vzzzzzzzz-CLACK.

"... Holy shit," I mutter under my breathe in amazement as the metal wire does exactly as I'd wanted, zipping through the air to snap firmly back into the gauntlet. I try again, this time easing it out of the gauntlet instead of firing it, laughing giddily as I make a length of it wave around with my hand as if it were dancing. "I-I did it! I'm a goddamn metalbender!" Snapping the cable back into its sheath, I can't help but jump up and down I'm so excited. This is amazing, this is ab-so-lute-ly amazing!

"It's freakin' unbelievable!" I shout jubilantly in my best impression of Dallas Genoard, my mind absently wandering and contemplating all of the Baccano! references I want to make now that I'm here. For a moment, I forget the fear and confusion I felt in the harbor, still jazzed at the idea that I'm actually in the real Republic City and that I actually have legit superpowers. It's like every fan's dream come to life!

Still, even though I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth here, I can't ignore the fact that this stuff literally fell out of the sky with my name on it. As cool as this is, there's no denying it now.

Someone brought me here for a reason. Someone who not only has enough power to pull me through dimensions of reality and alter my genetic structure to make me a bender, but also wants me to both survive here and look like I belong for said reason.

"The only question is," I think as I draw the bag closed and sling it over my shoulder, scanning the waterfront for a place to change, "just what is that reason, and who are they?" My mind drifts back to the pocketbook for a second for some reason, a strange sense of déjà vu at the back of my mind like a bad itch. Why does that thing seem so familiar? Have I read about something like this before? The sounds of dock-workers approaching to my right takes precedent however; gotta get outta sight and get my glad rags on before someone spots me. I'll breathe easier once I'm not wearing something that screams "I don't belong here, please mug me." That, and as soon as I blend in with the other cats in Republic City, I can figure out just where in the time-line I am and what my next move should be.

"Great," I groan softly, facepalming as I check my surroundings and dash for cover. "Not even a full hour in this world and I'm already using 20's slang."


"This shit is way too convenient," I mumbled as I walked down the streets of Republic City, hands in the pockets of my coat- which is something of a cross between a pea-coat and a duster- while I observe my surroundings in awe and confused intrigue.

On top of my newly acquired bending abilities, it seems that "The Powers That Be" have also seen fit to impart several more gifts on my person. For one, I have perfect 20/20 vision now, which is good considering I was literally- not figuratively- considered legally blind back home without glasses or contacts. Secondly, my ability to read Chinese and Japanese characters has gone through the roof in terms of proficiency. Granted, I just graduated with a minor in the latter language a month ago, but I read, wrote, and spoke at something of an intermediate level. Now, I can do all three like a goddamn native!

I would be saying this is all very helpful- and don't get me wrong, it really is- but it's still just too damned convenient for my tastes. Fuck, it's starting to look like I'm in one of those crappily written Mary-Sue/Marty-Stu fanfics. What's next, I find out I'm Toph and Sokka's secret love-child they kept hidden from Suki by sending him to live with relatives in the Earth Kingdom? I have a pet dragon or a sky bison? Oh, I know, I'm one of Yakone's other kids he had with some earthbender quiff from the red-light district. Yeah, that's gotta be it- Oh wait, no it can't, because whoever or whatever brought me here also bumped my physical age down five years to nineteen for some reason too! Damn it...

Still, it isn't all that bad. At least I can find my way around well enough, being able to read the street signs and what not. I also managed to figure out what year I'm in, thanks to that newspaper I picked up from a newsboy hawking them on a street-corner in the downtown area. I kid you not, he was shouting "Extra, extra" and everything, just like in the old-timey movies... Or would that be the current-timey movies here? No, Varrick hasn't invented movers yet, so that would be the no-timey movies actually. But, back to the paper, the current year is 170 AG. The Equalist Movement is gaining popularity among the city's non-bending under and middle-class, Future Industries is set to unveil a new line of luxury Satomobiles next month, and the rookie Fire Ferrets are taking the pro-bending world by storm.

Oh yeah, and Korra should be arriving here any day now. Can't forget that.

Which means, given the unofficial laws of self-insert fan fiction- as I'm pretty sure I'm in one by now- I'm going to have to team up with her and the rest of the Krew at some point in the near future if I want to have any chance of figuring out how I ended up here and just who or what was behind it. Also if I want to survive any and all of the craziness to come as well, since I'm pretty sure that even with my new superpowers, I'll need all the help I can get if I want to keep out of an early grave, given everything that happens in the show will most-likely have more lethal consequences now that it's all real. I don't want to randomly meet Amon or the Red Lotus in a dark alley- or find myself on the business end of Kuvira's Spirit-Cannon for that matter- without back-up, and having someone as powerful as the Avatar and her friends in your corner-

Is that a polar-bear dog I see sticking out of that food stand? And is that who I think it is sitting on its back?

Water Tribe outfit, clear blue eyes, ponytail, gorgeous smile, positively ripped? Oh yeah, checkity check, check, check. No doubt about it, that's Korra.

"Shit." I bite my thumb nervously, mind racing as I debate my next move. I didn't expect to be dropped off in the first episode of all places; maybe a month or so prior, so that I could have a bit of a buffer, time to think and prepare, figure out how I'd join up with the Krew and... You know what? Screw it. She's here, I'm here, no time like the present. Just go up there, buy her the lunch she didn't get to have in the first episode, introduce yourself, and go from there. Whatever happens, happens. I tug at my collar anxiously, then situate my fedora- which is not a douchey hat, by the way; the one that dudebros wear that gets mistaken for a fedora is called a "trilby"- and walk up to the stand.

"- I, uh, don't actually have any money," Korra explains hesitantly, a stick of what I assume is some kind of skewered lizard meat held between her hands as she looks at the woman behind the counter hopefully. I remember this Korra: energetic, cocky, brash, subtle as a bag of hammers, ready to take on the world and change it for the better, innocent, unbroken by time and hardship.

A grimace crosses my face and mind as I remember all the shit she's going to go through, the chief image in the montage of memories being her at Jinora's anointing ceremony at the end of Book 3, sitting there in that wheelchair, crying. She'd looked so hopeless, so broken, like every bit of light in her life, all of that excitement and fun that made the Korra before me right now who she was had just been sucked out of her. A part of me wants to make sure that never happens, that she stays every bit the girl before me, the funny, talented, tough, buff, incredible girl who kicks ass and takes names and has fun and... Damn it, I can't not let that stuff happen to her though. Without those lessons, she'd never become the person that we all know and love, the amazing young woman who takes the weight of the world on her shoulders, plants her feet, and creates a triumph from all that tragedy.

"Then what good are you to me?!" snaps the annoyed lady, snatching the skewer from Korra's hands, much the Avatar's shock and disappointment.

Brooding later, food now, damn it! I can debate whether or not to majorly screw with canon when I'm actually in a position to do so; which I can get to when I've made sure I'm actually a part of said canon.

"Nineteen, and twenty," I count out, getting both women's attentions before handing the bills to the confused old bird, much to both their surprise. "That, is how much it costs for one of everything, right, ma'am?" I take a moment to survey her wares, and- Ooo! She has takoyaki! Hell yeah! I pull an extra fiver from my pocket and add it to the others. "Oh, and an eight-count of octopus balls too, if it isn't too much trouble."

She shoots me a look that could melt stone, obviously peeved that I butt in, but takes the cash and sets it in a change box behind the counter. "Coming right up," she glowers begrudgingly as she sets about gathering a bag and several containers for the Avatar's order, muttering under her breath about "damned tourists" and the like.

"Thanks for that," Korra says, prompting me to look her way and- gods, her eyes are beautiful. And that smile. You could blind someone with how happily relieved she is right about now, it's just so damned cute. Must not squee, only one chance to get recruited, do not screw this up! "Um," she begins expectantly, offering a hand in thanks.

Maintaining my composure as best I can, I shove my wallet back in my pocket and tip my hat to the Avatar before shaking her hand. "Jōnouichi," I lie, mentally kicking myself for picking a Yu-Gi-Oh! character's name as my alias here. "But, my friends call me "Joey" or "Joe" for short. And, don't mention it. After all, us tourists have to stick together, right?"

Korra blushes slightly- damn it, quit being cute- as she introduces herself and massages the back of her neck sheepishly. "It's that obvious, huh?"

I wave off the embarrassment nonchalantly, hoping to help her feel a little more relaxed. "Only because we're in the same boat being fresh off the boat." Chuckling at my own joke- which I admit, wasn't my best by a long shot- I lean against one of the stands canopy poles while the two of us wait for our food. Well, three of us, if you count Naga, who cocks her head to one side in that curiously adorable way that dogs do before sniffing my pants with doggy intrigue. "Besides, what sort of gentleman would leave two damsels in distress when he has the means of coming to their rescue?" I stoop to the polar-bear dog's level, looking up at Korra for permission before I pet her. "May I?"

"Sure," is the Avatar's wary answer, probably worried about Naga's reaction than my own at this point. "Just be careful. Naga's-!"

Sluuuuuurrrrp!

"-Not usually so quick to warm up to new people," Korra finishes in amusement at my struggles underneath the big dog-creature's tongue as she licks me hard enough to knock my hat off and knock me on my ass. "Huh, I guess she wanted to say thanks for the food too."

"It's nothing, really." I wipe my face of Naga's slobbery dog-kisses and sit back up to take her head in my hands and scratch behind her ears. "I'm just happy to help. Yes, I am! Yes, I am! Who's a good girl? Who's a good, slobber-kissy girl? You are! Yes, you are. Yes, you are!" What can I say? I love dogs, and big dogs like Naga are just like big puppies when you get down to it. They love getting their ears scratched, and they love it when you talk to them and give them attention. Naga appears to be no exception, especially not if that wagging tail is any indication as to her current mood.

Making an idiot of myself seems to lift Korra's spirits as well, the Avatar stifling a giggle at my baby-talk before starting as the vendor lady shoves a bag of food into her hands.

"Here, one of everything," she says in annoyance, then puts a paper "boat" on the counter and nudges it in my general direction. Sitting inside are eight, steaming, batter-fried takoyaki balls- or the Avatar-verse' equivalent- garnished with bonito flakes. Hell yes! "And one eight-count of octopus balls. Now make tracks, you're scaring away my customers!"

What customers, lady? We're literally the only people queuing for food right now.

"Sure thing, lady," I wave off dismissively, "keep the change." Whatever, at least I have my food. My glorious, glorious food! I love this stuff, it's the absolute best. While I was still in college, I made a weekly trip to this great ramen shop in town- which made legit Japanese ramen- solely for a bowl and an order of takoyaki, like clockwork. I seriously think I've developed an addiction to this stuff, but more on that later, Korra's talking.

"Man," she says as we walk away from the stall, food in hand. "It's going to take a while to burn through all this grub, even for Naga." The big dog wags her tail happily upon hearing her name as her owner climbs up into the saddle. "Maybe we should find a place to eat that isn't so crowded."

As she says this, a sign for the Republic City Park catches my eye. Sweet, it's not too far from here. So my intervention doesn't need to mess with her running into the homeless guy and that idiot with the megaphone. Awesome!

"It looks like the park's only a couple blocks that way," I suggest helpfully, jerking my thumb in that general direction. "I bet they have picnic tables."

Korra grins at me again in what I assume is approval. "Sounds like a plan." She then leans down in the saddle and offers me a hand. Wait, is she-? "Want a lift?" She is! She's offering to let me ride on Naga! Sweet!

"Sure thing," I accept, covering my tray with my hat before taking her hand and- JEEZ LOUISE, she's strong! One minute I'm on the ground, and the next she's practically yanking me off my feet and onto Naga's back. "Um, thanks for the hand."

"Alright, hang on!"

"Wha-YIPE!" is all I can manage before Korra snaps Naga's reins and we practically fly down the street towards the park.


AN: And there you have it, the first chapter of my contribution to the Asleep-Verse, "Sleepless in Republic City." It looks like things are going rather well for Joe right now, even if he's still in the dark about a few things. However, that's all about to change. After all, there's another side to Republic City, a seedy, crime-ridden side filled with violence and inequality that both he and the Avatar are about to discover. How will they react to this revelation, and how will Joe react when he finds out just where in the multiverse he's been deposited? Read on to find out, True Believers! Once more, I'd like to thank Gone2GroundEX/Cameron for graciously allowing me to make use of his Outsider/Alternate System for this story, as well as thank my beta-reader, Rider Paladin, for his help in making this story post-worthy. I really appreciate your guys' help. I'll try to have more for you in the weeks to come, time and tide providing. Please remember that real life takes precedent before fun stuff like this, regardless of the fact that I'd rather stay on this as much as possible. Reviews/comments of "UPDATE PLZ," "When's the next update," "update soon," and any variation thereof is not helpful and will not make me go faster. Aside from that request, this is the end of things for now, though I should have a new chapter in the works in the next couple of weeks. Please feel free to R&R as you see fit; constructive criticism is always welcome, trolls get crushed by their own bridges, and flames are repurposed as ingredients in Flamey-O's Instant Noodles, "The Noodliest Noodles in the United Republic." Until next time, True Believers. EXCELSIOR!