So this is going to a kind of unstructured account of where the Wolfbats came from and how they ended up where they did. I've always loved and adored Tahno (sO mUCh poTenTiaL) but I wanted to take a look at what his teammates were like as well. I mean, they must be unique people if they can put up with Tahno (because he is a little bit of an ass).
I like to think that Tahno clawed his was from the bottom up. That's my justification for the way he flaunts his fame in canon- because he never had it before. Alright, I'm done rambling.
His teeth were clanking against the glass of a bottle- a bottle of what he couldn't remember- while he sat on the moist curb. The wavering yellow glow of passing sato mobiles always gave him a vague sense of hope as tires rumbled nearer and nearer. Thank god, someone was coming to get him.
But they always flashed by in a spray of watery grime and as Tahno watched the shape fade off into the darkness there was always the drunken sense of optimism oh well, there will be another. And there was and it was the same result, over and over and over again till even drunken optimism wasn't enough to stop him from picking the bottle up to let more liquid courage burn down his throat.
Cities weren't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to glow, sparkle, and glitter. They were supposed to be filled with velvet and curved red lips and open gilded doors leading where, Tahno could only imagine.
Tahno wasn't supposed to be sleeping in a basement on some rags because he couldn't afford a bed. He wasn't supposed to be stitching his threadbare swamp style clothes with clumsy fingers in the cold mornings before practice. He wasn't supposed to be cycled through team after team for people to decide his fighting style was too bold, too daring, and too risky to get him far at all. They sneered, yellow teeth and glinting eyes as they leaned down to say to him through the fogged helmet better luck next time kid.
But Tahno was shit out of luck and living on booze which he was sure doing terrible things to his liver. He already felt what it was doing to his mind. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take; how many more bloody bowls of post-training-session water while he hated himself because maybe if he had been a healer he could be eating something, how many more stares that slid over his skin as if he were just another lamp post or garbage can, how many more sleepless nights with the boom of footsteps overhead while he wondered and prayed (which was a new experience for Tahno indeed) to something or someone let this get better.
Because the old Tahno used to make things better. He used to snarl, he used to bare white teeth in challenge, and most of all he used to win. But this Tahno was like a worn down animal with scars on his muzzle and bones pressing through his pelt. The old glint of predator's eyes was dulled beneath the haze of alcohol and fatigue.
"You got a light?"
Tahno glanced over at the person he hadn't remembered sitting down next to him. It was hard to make out his features in the dim light of the dying lamppost but Tahno could zero in on tanned skin and green eyes that glinted with the same acute frustration buried in Tahno's own.
Tahno shook his head silently and the mystery person sighed. The unlit cigarette dangling languidly from his mouth was rolled back and forth a few times between his lips before it came to a halt at the side of his lips. "You got a name?"
Tahno leaned back. "Of course I do."
"Is it a good name?"
Tahno slid another look to the side and sharp green eyes watched him carefully. "It's a name people are going to know."
The man chuckled and reached for Tahno's bottle. Tahno said nothing, which surprised even himself, as the man held the cigarette between his fingers so he could take several long gulps.
A bang echoed across the street and both of them jumped with the delayed senses of the intoxicated. Voices echoed in the night and Tahno was impressed in spite of himself at the vocabulary of whoever was shouting. Cursing in the swamps had always been simple. Here it was an art.
A dark figure swayed as it wandered across the street. The head glanced from side to side, as if he too were looking for the warm glow of sato mobile lights to come and get him- to come and take him somewhere new.
He entered the watery pool of light Tahno and the other man were sitting under and a sharp pale face with a mop of brown hair turned black by the lighting were revealed. His boots scuffed along the wet street with slow scrapes and Tahno felt himself stiffen as the man drew nearer.
Without warning he turned and let himself drift down between the two strangers on the curb. He rested his elbows on his knees as if deliberately trying to invade Tahno's personal space and Tahno surpassed a hiss of irritation.
"Hello, gentlemen," the newcomer drawled, drumming unsteady fingers on his arm.
Tahno snorted. "Where do you get off?"
The new man reached over to the cigarette that had been rolled back and forth between fingers in disuse and lit it with a sharp cherry red flare from his finger. "Same place as you, I bet."
The other man laughed and took a drag. After a moment he released a hazy cloud of smoke that swirled opaquely, looking nearly solid in the darkness. "Don't we all."
"No," Tahno replied curtly.
"The name is Shaozu." He said the name the way someone else would say President of Republic City. He cast a searching gaze to either side of him. "And you rays of sunshine are?"
"Ming."
Tahno felt familiar consonants and vowels rising quickly in this throat before he could stop them. "Tahno."
The man named Ming leaned forward to look around Shaozu at Tahno. "I've heard of you. You're the guy trying to find a team." He paused. "People say you raise hell."
Shaozu rolled his eyes. "This place is one big slice of hell. It doesn't take much to pull some of it up to the surface."
Tahno glared, the words I'm supposed to be the brooding smart ass nearly out of his mouth before he realized how childish they sounded. He looked around at his new company and realized they couldn't be much older than him- sixteen or seventeen. They were all kids to be honest. Tahno felt behind him and took another swig from the bottle. But if he was really being honest, he hadn't felt like a kid in a long time. He supposed they hadn't either.
"You pro-bend?"
Tahno perked up at the familiar term only to realize the question wasn't intended for him.
"I lit your cig, didn't I?" Shaozu cast a longing glance at the bottle Tahno had just set back down but didn't reach for it himself.
Tahno snorted. "Amateur bender."
A heated glower was passed over. "At least I have a team and a salary."
"And how is that working out for you," Tahno muttered, eyes drifting up to look at the starless sky. He hadn't believed that city lights made stars fade into invisibility but now that he was here, he realized city lights made pretty much everything fade into invisibility.
There was a pause and then, "It's a drag."
Ming shifted. "I don't have a team. Been cycled through a few times but they don't like my style." He stopped and flicked the half smoked cigarette into the street and stared after it as the pale red glow faded.
Tahno watched the two of them, calculating. It may have been his drunkenness, it may have been his desperation, it may have been the last dregs of his sanity circling the drain but he said, "Let's make a team."
The pair of them looked at him incredulously, and this- this he was used to. Disbelieving stares, amazement, this was what he had left behind in the muggy depths of the swamp. And it felt good to be back.
"Unless you gentlemen have better plans?"
There was silence as the wheels in their minds turned. Oh they had plans alright. Something was going to happen and soon. Things were going to get better but was this a ticket there or a step back? This was a game they couldn't afford to be set back in.
"I'm in," Shaozu said decisively.
He and Tahno both turned expectantly to Ming and he shrugged his broad shoulders. "Why the hell not?" There were several answers to that question but the three of them ignored the unspoken reason hanging in the air.
"What's going to be the name?" Ming asked.
Tahno looked contemplatively over their gaunt faces, hollowed by shadows. Their eyes gleamed with a new ferocity at reawakened hope. Ruthless light was there- the drive to mould the world and inhibitions be damned. Then he looked down the line of them, all perched on the curb as lonely silhouettes in the cold darkness.
He smirked. "We'll be the Wolfbats."