A/N: I don't really have a plan for this fic, just letting you know. This is set after Korra and Aang, as the earth Avatar. He's the only child of the Cabbage Man. This will be fun. Enjoy, and please give me areas to improve upon! This chapter was hastily written. Credit for the idea goes to a dear friend of mine, and I just needed to bring it to life.
Hopefully I won't do too many A/N's because they're annoying.
While the day clouded over and the sky turned to gray, the Avatar crouched next to his work, frowning. His cabbages simply weren't ripe enough, and he would have to delay his trip to the capital at least three days, meaning he wouldn't be able to sell his produce for another week. He sighed and looked towards the sky again, feeling the mood of the sky plunge into his heart. So he stood up, climbed the nearest tree to him, and began bending the clouds to expose the sun's form for just a little bit longer that day. His lovely cabbages needed more sunlight, after all, and he wasn't about to roast them with fire bending. No, no, that was only for performance and sales purposes only. The clouds began to dissipate, and he smiled at his work up above, a lock of hair falling from his sloppy, unkempt bun. And from there, he climbed down, and began tending to his fields once more.
In the capital, people had begun to embrace the dreary mood of the day. The citizens hunched over food stands or under awnings, trying to get back to work, or avoid going altogether. It was simply that kind of day. Suddenly, shrill alarm burst from some buildings, and a stern man's voice erupted from some speakers, urging everyone to go inside. The sky had cleared in a patch of land not too far from the capital, and many citizen's hearts sunk deeper. The Avatar's work had been spotted. And now they'd have no more cabbages for at least another week. As people huddled inside, frustrated, footsteps came stamping through the main streets, with soldiers chanting the national anthem. The townspeople were careful to murmur quietly among themselves, some snickering at the army's eventual defeat, some huddled against windows, straining to see if the Avatar's mess had been covered up yet.
He hadn't covered it up yet. And being quite a few miles away, the Avatar was still able to see the vibrant red alarms flashing and the cries of the national anthem. The Avatar sighed. He glanced at his cabbages. Then back up at the sky. Then at the sunset colored alarms. And back down at his cabbages again. His father had always upheld his standards of farming, passing the family career down to him. And even though his father had many run-ins with Avatar Aang and Avatar Korra, he did not relent to the threat of certain destruction to his business. He didn't even yield. The cabbages had always come first. And so, with a quick sorrowful look to the capital, he shrugged and went inside his small shack of a home, whistling the tune of the great national anthem as he walked.