A harsh round of laughter fills the air as Bolin slams another bottle of rice wine on the floor. "And then… out of nowhere… Pabu started speaking." He gestures desperately around him with wild eyes, one hand planted on his knee and the other slicing the air with splayed fingers.
"No!" Asami gasps, her own bottle of wine cradled in her lap. She lunges forward as if every word of Bolin's story determines her fate.
Bolin mirrors her and leans forward, supporting his weight by pounding his hands into the floor. "Yes. I swear to Koh on all that is holy that Pabu talked," he solemnly repeats, swiveling his head languidly to Mako. "Right, bro?"
Mako is seated to Bolin's left and he is busy staring down at his personal supply of wine. "Sorry, what?" he asks, perturbed. "Asami, how old is this wine?"
Asami shrugs and picks an empty bottle up by the neck, glaring at it. "Psshh I have NO idea. I just grabbed some from the cellar and here we are!" she throws her hands out in a grand display of showing off the room, as if the group of teenagers forgot they were in the middle of Asami's giant bedroom. She loses her balance and falls over, but her crossed legs keep her precious wine from spilling. "Ow."
Bolin perks up like a suspicious polar bear dog and looks around. "Whoa! Where's Korra?"
Asami gasps and sits back up. "She was in the bathroom, wasn't she? How long has it been?"
Bolin pales considerably and slaps a hand to Mako's shoulder. "I think… the toilet swallowed her," he said gravely, and Mako shrugs his hand off.
"No," Asami starts, "No, I've read about this. There's an ancient spirit… that haunts bathrooms…" she tries and fails to keep in her giggles, but Bolin's shocked gasp cuts through her mirth.
"I'm afraid… the Avatar has been taken to the Spirit World… through a portal… within a toilet." With each dramatic pause his head snaps between Mako and Asami. With the end of his declaration his head falls and his chin knocks against his chest.
Asami gasps dramatically and falls over herself to crawl to Bolin, taking his hands into hers. "We need to pray!" Bolin nods fervently and they both kneel with their hands clasped and their heads together, muttering nonsense. Mako sighs and takes another swig of his wine, refusing to believe that his girlfriend got swallowed by a foul toilet spirit.
The thought still nags at the back of his mind, but being the oldest and the most responsible, he can't afford to be paranoid.
With much ceremony and noise, Korra stumbles into the room, leaning into the doorframe and snickering. "Guys. I'm SO sorry, but (pfthahaha) guys I forgot how to unlock the door and…" she looks between the prayer vigil and the increasingly drunker Mako in confusion, walking forward to sit next to her boyfriend and slumping down. "What's with them?"
Mako shrugs and looks at her through the bottle, careful not to get wine in his eye. "I'unno. They thought you got swallowed by a toilet. I wasn't worried." He expects a laugh, but he brings down the wine bottle to see Korra staring sternly at him.
"I've read about toilet spirits, Mako. Don't joke about them. They'll come after you."
"Korra, don't be ridiculous – "
"I'm the AVATAR, Mako," she slurs, jabbing a finger into his scarf, "I know my spirits!" He frowns and she harrumphs at him, wrapping the scarf around her hand and tugging it off his neck. "You have angered the Avatar. You don't deserve this."
"Korra!" he whines, grabbing at his scarf, but Korra rolls away fluidly only to bump into the leg of Asami's bed. Her resounding "oof!" knocks Bolin and Asami out of their fervor and they look down with a start, shortly thereafter falling upon Korra's prone form, sobbing and screaming.
"KORRA!" Bolin wails, situating her in his lap. Korra turns her wide eyes to Mako, who looks on with a restrained fury. "We were so worried! How did you escape?" He has taken to stroking her hair and rocking her, cooing soft words of praise into the crown of her head. Asami takes hold of her bare feet and pats them affectionately, like a doting mother. "Oh, my precious baby," he sighs, squishing her face into his chest.
Korra mumbles something about having to break the door down because there were three locks, but they either don't hear her or choose to ignore it. Korra worms her way out of his hold, still clutching Mako's scarf to her chest, and settles down across the circle from them.
They calm down and settle into another story, this time Asami regaling them about some adventure on the race track. Bolin is absolutely riveted by the shine of her hair as she tosses it back and forth. Mako keeps trying to sneak his hand back to his scarf, but Korra, who is getting progressively drowsier, keeps smacking it away. Eventually, she balls the entire scarf up and shoves it under her top, forming what looks like a misshapen, lumpy baby bump. She leans backward with her legs straight out and crossed at the ankles, her body supported with one arm while the other hand holds a bottle of rice wine to her lips. Her eyes are leveled at him, their blue depths glinting at him, taunting him. Mako fixes her gaze with a withering glare before whipping his head to pretend to listen to Asami's story.
Korra can tell he's totally pouting, so she nudges him playfully for his attention. He sets his jaw and stares at Asami's eyebrows, refusing to give Korra the satisfaction of looking at her. She huffs and nudges him again, this time on his hip. Still, he doesn't look, so Korra downs the rest of her wine and carefully lobs the bottle at his shoulder.
"FUCKING OW!" Mako screams, clutching his face. Korra shrieks and falls onto the ground, and Bolin and Asami are left to stare at them from across the circle. "Are you aware that you just threw a GLASS BOTTLE AT MY FACE?" He walks over on his knees and begins landing open-palmed blows on appropriate parts of Korra's body as she giggles and wails, trying to choke out apologies. He smacks her ass and she yelps, kicks his face with the top of her foot and wobbles to her feet. He's soon to follow and she screams again, stumbling out of Asami's room with Mako hot on her tail.
Bolin and Asami stare at each other before she heaves a relieved sigh and crawls to the corner of her room. "I thought they'd never leave," she groans, hefting out a large board and a bag of clinking tiles. "Strip paisho?"
Bolin grins wickedly and rubs his hands together. "I thought you'd never ask."