The clanging of weights and blaring music greeted Korra as she entered the building. The gym, a palace compared to the small, family-owned establishment she used to frequent back in the South Pole, was decked out in the latest Earth Kingdom fashion. The reception desk was sleek stainless steel, behind which stood and equally sleek and stainless employee. Instead of returning her hello, he raised one perfectly sculpted brow and slammed a clipboard down in front of her with a sharp crack.
"Name. Signature. Deposit."
The deskman's voice sounded dismissive, but his eyes trailed up and down her body in a way that could easily have earned him a smack back home if it weren't for his glaring disdain. He was probably (most definitely) wondering if she had somehow gotten lost on her way to the soup kitchen and was hoping for some spare change. He turned away in a huff, still keeping a watchful eye on her, lest she liberate his good pen. You never know with these dirty pigeonrats.
Korra, with her hair cropped short and her Water Tribe garments discared months ago, looked nothing like the Avatar that people had once come to respect. Years had passed, and instead of a household name, hers had become merely a fleeting thought when passing old statues.
The turnstile swung silently behind her as she made her way to the lockers.
Compared to the other members of the gym, Korra's gear seemed lacking. Where she had her well-worn outfit of green and brown, they had the newest line of neon compresson gear - a must-have according to anyone who knows anything, of course. Where they had spotless training shoes laced with only the finest steel thread, she was barefoot. Needless to say, her modest choices drew more than a few sniggers.
Ignoring them, she stretched her arms first up over her head and then down to her toes, exhaling for what felt like the first time since she stepped foot into the gym. Her hamstrings strained through her cotton pants and the initial burn eased into a pleasant warmth. The anxiety seemed to melt away - her body remembered the actions even if her mind didn't.
Someone cleared their throat loudly and her reverie was broken.
Behind her stood what seemed to be a tree trunk with arms.
"With legs like those you must be an athlete, baby. How's about you let me help you get that stretch a bit...deeper," he said with a leer, already moving in. Korra snapped upright, turning to address him face to face - or in this case, face to abdomen.
"I'm all done, so no thanks," she said as she backed away. The furthest point from the obnoxious ladies' man turned out to be the weights section, which thanfully seemed fairly empty.
Weight training had always been her method of de-stressing and ironically enough, unloading. No matter her circumstances or the increasingly abstract ideas of what was right and wrong, a 20kg plate remained a 20kg plate. No lighter and no heavier. Warming up as every one of her previous instructors had taught her, she grabbed a barbell with both hands and slowly lowered it past her thighs, her knees, her shins and onto the floor, repeating it in reverse.
"It's nice to see a girl back here, especially one with such lovely form," came a nasally voice to her right. The owner of it seemed to have only ever known the form of copious amounts of sweetcakes.
"And even though you're only lifting the bar, I commend you for trying. You should probably stick to that anyway. Men don't like looking at girls with too much muscle, sweetcheeks."
Korra froze.
It wasn't the first time that she had heard those words, and it wouldn't be the last, but after every other experience in that spiritsforsaken place, she had had enough.
The fat man's grin quickly turned into a grimace of terror when he saw the seething anger in her eyes. He shielded his face with his arms as she came towards him, but she simply grabbed a weight plate from the rack next to him and added it to the barbell. She then added another. And another. A hushed silence fell over the room as everyone gathered to watch this strange young woman move back and forth, adding plate after plate until she finally came to a halt.
Checking to make sure her feet were correctly placed, Korra flexed her fingers and dropped down to grasp the bar. One breath in. Hold. One breath out.
With a grunt, she pulled. Her muscles strained and the veins in her neck and forearms bulged like tightly wound cables. A bead of sweat rolled down her nose. After a moment of suspense, the weight cleared the floor. Slowly but surely it moved upward until she locked her knees, the metal bar bending and groaning against the immense weight. Her eyes weren't glowing, she wasn't bending, she wasn't even wearing shoes - but she looked absolutely terrifying. She carefully placed the weight down only to lift it another four times. After all, she had to finish her set.
On the last rep, Korra allowed herself to drop it. An ear-splitting crack broke the awed silence and as the dust cleared, one could see the perpetually snarky deskman on his knees, sobbing and babbling about how he was going to explain the massive holes in the floor to his manager.
The avatar was never bothered again.