There were people. More than enough for a crowd. A garish mess of washed out colours and loud words. The sun sits on the city and clenches on each of them rays that drip off buildings. Water benders complain it's too hot, fire benders shout it's too cold, the rest breathe in the broken glass and ash.
The city is a quarter destroyed and spiteful columns of smoke could still be seen rising. Footsteps in the shadow of the craters the equalists left. Sometimes the citizens of republic city would pass a rare dead body and tried hard not to let a scream erupt from their strained lungs. They carried their worries and hopes among their shoulders. Fear poked out from them like bones.
Yet they congregated in all the old places. Talked about the neighbours and drank cups of tea. A people who are conditioned against tragedy. No matter what, they can always share a small moment with others. Gossip would rise from mouths and steam would rise from tea. Greif from all the things they have lost would be battered down by hands on shoulders and calm words. Comfort is tossed around and shared. Somewhere an engine whined and coughed.
The satomobile was a month old and painted in scars and scratches. Two afterthoughts of wire or glass made the headlights. Four worried looking tires. It carried an optimistic handful of young adults. They laugh and joke as if they'll live forever. Bolin and Asami let their voices spar with each other in the front seats. In the back seats Korra and Mako have been holding hands without noticing for a while. Like the nature of all lovers they had shy smiles draped on them.
The avatar would stare at the remains of Amon's republic city. For two weeks her eyes sifted through angry ruins, furious broken things dressed in rubble. Many however were only slightly damaged, the undamaged buildings stood nervous amongst all the wounded skyscrapers.
Already repair work was taking place. Wreckage slowly shrivelling away with each day. Workers stood around with smiles caked in laughter and dirt. They toiled underneath the sweating sun, and yet it was nice to hear them sing as they lifted bricks above their heads. She takes a last glance at stout arms and burly shadows and yellowed light.
They round a corner and the stench of the city hits them. Like the smell of packed ash rising in your hand. Their satomobile gingerly joins the end of long line of satomobiles. Asami's face has shadowed into a frown.
Asami thrusts her voice to the satomobile ahead of her.
"What's the hold up?"
A man hurls his voice back at her.
"Construction work!"
"What do you mean Construction work?"
"You kids haven't been here too long have you?
"You could say that"
"Everything's changed you know."
"Yeah ever since Amon right?"
"Right"
Asami withdraws herself into the satomobile. One hand out of the window and one hand on the wheel. Asami's fingers tapping out the sounds of boredom. Engines choking out blackened noises. How long is this going to take? Asami lets Korra's voice catch up to her.
"It's just two weeks Mako, don't worry"
"I'm not worrying I'm just being realistic"
"You're nagging"
"Korra I watched you get really messed up two times"
"So?"
"I don't know"
"You're worried aren't you?"
"No"
Mako said the lie so blatantly it wasn't a lie at all.
"I know I need to train but Tenzin needs to get an air acolyte to take over his position in the council"
"That takes two weeks?"
"Yup. Sorry cool guy"
"damn"
"Don't worry we're safe. Afterwards we can go back to the southern tribe. I mean if you want to."
Because the four of them were listening to those two they weren't really too aware of the world around them. A woman slides a satchel underneath the satomobile. In a panic Bolin earth bended. Of course it was too late.
A flash of fire. A world starved of gravity. Then the thud.
When Korra woke up the street was the colour of ruptured blood. The redness of fire spilled out with a silence that hums. The car left in the shape of broken bones, tortured metal creased into wrinkles. Somehow a tire lands and the sound of it hitting the road is like a bad punch line. It's followed by a small splatter of flesh. Tiny chunks of meat that once talked and lived and breathed.
Did this brutal burst of fire and sound mean something? Was it the will of the spirits and the destiny of the avatar that all these people died confused and in pieces? No. It was because an angry and desperate woman left an explosion in the right place.
Wordlessly Korra brushes of teeth that had landed on her. She tries to walk but she slides on a finger severed on the ground. Shivering and trembling. Inside of her a warm scream rose but died in her throat. Feet shuffle after each other and she moves slowly holding her fear in her hands.
And here is the dust.
And here is the ash.
The smoke is a living thing and it coils itself around the survivors. It shouts out echoes of flame and ember. It follows Korra.
In the burning fog she finds the other three. She finds Mako and holds him. All the things they need to say are said through their shaking arms wrapped around the other. Nothing is done while the smoke stalks away from them. Asami says that everyone is okay. Everyone's fine. Bolin says it was a bomb.
Blooms of blood are splashed on them. On hair, on clothes, on skin. Despite it all Bolin has a smile with a red scar tailing around his mouth. His swollen words are heavy.
"How's that for safe eh?"
A couple of bitter smiles were found on the others. It was deranged and horrible and out of taste, but they were all touched by Bolin's morbid sense of humour. They laughed a little but only because they were scared.
Soon their smiles become limp.
Soon there isn't anything left to say.
Slowly the silence is stabbed by heavy voices that chant people's names. Urgent voices held together by panic.
"Tenka! Have you seen my Tenka?"
"Lei!"
"Hui! Hui Shatsu!"
Lilly are you here? Please. Lilly. Please"
Each forlorn name leaves a handprint on Korra's heart. They could hear weeping now. Sobbing followed by an ugly hollowed out howl. Sometimes it was followed with a knelt-down scream. Most were silent in the smog. Anguish and blood and and bits of people falling down.
They watch as the stench of burning petrol billows across it all.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
In a forgotten side of town the fire and the thud could not be felt nor heard. Most customers didn't want to hear or feel anything. The smell of alcohol took bites out of the air.
Lin would stand at the door frame. She would stare at her pale shadow in the pale light. The brevity and shortness of it.
There is a singular man seated at the bar. He is a stoic mixture of coat, armour and a turned back. Shadows and bad memories fall on the man like cobwebs. Hair is a torn headful of black. A drink cradled in a hand stiffened with rage. Or sadness.
"Hello Bae"
No word creeps out of the huddle of steel armour and long coat. He still hasn't moved. Lin moves to occupy a seat next to him. His drink moves up and goes down. He smells corroded.
"There was a bombing"
His silence almost stings. No voice, but a serenity so intense and loud it can speak for him. It tells Lin to fuck off. The only thing that moves is the sunlight that fists fights with motes of dust in the stale air.
"The avatar needs someone with your talents to protect her"
He shucked off a tight nod for her. He moves as if his body is shared. Lin's voice rises to the edge of the room and fails to fill it.
"There's money for your trouble"
"I need money"
"Then come to the air temple. I think you know why I asked only you for this. Just control yourself. Dress nicely"
Spindly fingers tumble and trip with a lighter. He lights a cigarette and the smoke rose to the edge of the room and succeeded in filling it. The last thing Lin sees before she leaves is an orange softly hazed out of the cigarette.
He would spend another hour drinking silence and smoking nostalgia. He leaves empty cups.