Chapter 1: Let's Dance
Korra stood in the corner of the masquerade, eyeing the present crowd. The room was full of luxurious fabric, eccentric costumes and elaborate masks. The scent of perfume and rich food hung in the air, between the soft chatter. The ball was an awkward affair for Korra. Ever since she "refreshed" the Avatar cycle, Korra felt listless. She had no past Avatars to rely on. She always imagined becoming spiritually enlightened and discussing things of import with Avatar of old. Her soul – old and compounded by many others – was now a solo entity. It was unnerving. Even frightening. Of course, she always had her friends to rely on.
Somewhere, a boom of laughter told Korra that Bolin had found someone to flirt with. Her lips twisted into a slight smile. Good for him. He had been wary on pursuing anyone since Eska and Ginger. Hopefully, this was his first step to a happy, healthy relationship with someone.
Nearby, Asami and Mako skirted each other. Korra caught them, from the corner of her gaze. She hoped they wouldn't re-ignite a relationship. Though her jealousy had been long demolished, the Avatar felt Asami deserved so much more than Detective Mako. Too many bitter break-ups and immature issues.
Korra couldn't rely on them to help her with all of her duties, though. Mako was a hothead. Boin was immature and short-sighted. Asami had enough on her plate running Sato Corp. Tenzin, between fatherly duties and babysitting his siblings, wasn't always the most open to her problems, either. Korra wished she could have a counsel of her own, without hurting her friends feelings.
"I thought you'd be in the thick of it, young Avatar." A deep voice purred beside her. The words roused her from her thoughts. Korra's eyes snapped to the man beside her. He stood tall and broad, a chilly air emanating from him. He wore the mask of a grotesque red demon, with heavy brows and three horns. A smile curled at its lips and the eyes were pits of darkness. The rest of his outfit was a ritzy three-piece suit, mostly black with slight hues of dark blue.
Korra turned her eyes back to the crowd before her. It was unsurprising that someone spotted her so easily, "You look like a demonic used Satomobile dealer."
The man simply responded with a deep chuckle. She could feel his eyes on her, inching over her body. Korra's face flared with a blush. She had been at a loss for an outfit for this event. Asami had chosen the dress and mask, and – ever generous – included some jewelry, too. A rich, silver silk gown – to contrast Korra's dark skin – that hung off her shoulders and cinched at her waist tightly before billowing out in oceans of fabric and glitzy beads. The moon-inspired mask that covered the upper half of her face also glittered in the light, thanks to expensive beadwork. Silver lipstick adorned her lips and silver sparkles dusted over her cheeks and her shoulder. Korra felt like an intimidating, trying-to-hard spectacle.
"You look like a marshmallow." He finally said. She deigned him with a look, trying not to fall to his bait. Korra nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized the man leaned close. She could smell his musk – a familiar scent that brought wheeling memories to her mind – as he leaned close. Korra's heart thudded in her chest, against the tightness as he wrapped an arm around her waist. A thrill dropped to her stomach, exploding into nervous butterflies. The man lifted his mask up, slightly, revealing his pale lips twisted into a smirk, "Rather tasty, if I may be so bold."
Korra couldn't get her eyes off of those pale lips. That twisted smirk. Memories came flooding back. Her lips quirked into a smile and her voice took on a challenging edge, "You wanna taste?"
The man paused and Korra imagined his eyes widening behind the mask. A flush licking over his pale cheeks. It made a bubble of smugness swell in her chest. The band – after slow, crooning whines – finally tuned enough to start a dance. The man's head inclined to the dance floor, where various people began their waltzes.
"Young Avatar," His mask turned back to her, "I believe we're overdue for a dance."
"What?" Korra softly sputtered before the man firmly, and insistently, dragged her to the dance floor. The Avatar stumbled, shocked as the sudden change of venue. But, as the man positioned a hand on her hip and grasped her other in a soft, warm palm, Korra rebounded. The Avatar placed her hands in the appropriate spots and, soon, they were spinning around the dance floor.
"So, you know me, but who are you?" The Avatar peered into his face, catching a glint of blue in the man's shadowed eyes. They swayed back and forth, the other dancers and the background blurring into the background.
"Oh, uh- young Avatar, I'm pained you haven't figured it out." The man purred, his voice slick and oily. It made an excited shiver inch over Korra's flesh. She had an idea who laid beneath the mask.
"I could just wrench that mask off your face." Korra mused, testing these murky waters of flirtation.
"Mmm, after all this time," He purred, "You still have no finesse."
"I don't know if you know," Korra couldn't help her lips as they twitched up into a grin,"But I don't have any past lives to hold me back, now."
"I heard something like that," The man moved her to spin outward, her dress flaring out around her. He tugged her back, close to his body. She could feel his heart slam against her back. Excitement or nervous? Whatever it was, Korra's hear echoed the speed, the man's warmth seeping into her bare back. When he spoke, his words resonated against her neck, "In the rumor mill."
"You always had an ear to the ground." The Avatar murmured, as if prodding him for more information.
He wasn't giving her an inch, though. Noncommittally and cryptically, he met her soft whisper with a husky rasp of his own, "So to speak, young Avatar."
Korra turned abruptly, eyeing the man. She couldn't grab him by his shirt. Though she could get away with that in her pro-bending days, this affair and her age called for more tact. Besides, this man wasn't a threat to her, even if he was beginning to annoy her. Narrowing her eyes and putting her hands on her hips, she jutted out her lower lip, "You're no help."
"On the contrary, I can be a lot of help," Korra felt her body flare, feeling is gaze rake over her. Once his eyes finished their survey, he leaned closer. Korra could feel his body heat sink into her flesh, sending a thrill down her spine. The man finished, his voice dipping down to a sultry octave, "Especially if we were in private."
"I don't go to bed with men in masks."
"We'll see about that, young Avatar." He tilted his mask, skillfully only giving Korra a glimpse of those lips. Those damn lips, twisted into a smirk, inching closer and closer... Korra could feel his breath on her lips as his heat, and his scent, sent her hormones into woozy disarray. How long had it been since she felt the palm of a lover on her flesh? Since a man had the confidence, the skill, to send electricity and excitement through her veins?
Suddenly, a boom rocked the air and the whole room shook. The chandeliers above shuddered and chimed as people gasped and stumble; some of the more inebriated tumbled to the floor. A flash of light filled the previously night-darkened southbound windows and Korra felt a tingle of danger along her arms. Her dalliance pulled away as their eyes both drew to the window. Another loud explosion went off, rocking the dance hall.
Groups scurried to the window, quiet chatter and excitement floating out of the masque-dancers; "Oh my Aang, a building is on fire!"
"Isn't that the museum?"
The Avatar turned her eyes to her dance partner, but empty air filled his spot. She didn't have a lot of time, anyway. The city needed her. Her eyes sought out her friends, quickly spotting them. After an exchange of wordless nods, the four of them were pushing their way through the dancehall, toward the exit.
X x x
After a high-speed drive – with Asami behind the wheel – the four found themselves in front of the burning museum. Chief Bei Fong was already on the scene, dictating waterbenders to put out water and earthbenders to stifle the flames. Banners, depicting the new Equalist Exhibit, slithered away into ash or tattered fabric.
Between the full moon and licking flames, the night was bright. Heat blasted from the burning building. The scent of soot, ash and fear filled the air. Already, sweat slicked down Bolin's face and Korra could feel the beads slip down her back. As soon as the rollicking car glided to a stop, Korra jumped out.
"Lin!" Korra called out, hitching up her dress and sprinting to the woman's side. There had been no time to change and, although Asami said damaging the dress was fine, Korra hadn't wanted to tear the skirt apart for easier access. The earthbender turned, eyes raised at her get up, just as another explosion rocked through the museum.
"Attention, Republic City!" A voice echoed, brash and bold above them. Everyone turned their eyes skyward. Atop the burning building stood a man. His shoulders set, his arms behind his back, and dark clothes. Korra's guts clenched as instant familiarity bounced through her mind. "Equality is not dead! We have risen from the ashes! Stand with me, brothers and sisters, and rein in true equality among benders and non-benders!"
Whispers and camera flashes erupted as the man pumped a fist into the air. It was a familiar sight indeed. Meanwhile, officers continued their attempts to put out the flames.
Korra snarled, quickly bending a pillar of rock to hoist her to the top. She came face to face with the silhouetted man within seconds,"Why are you doing this?"
"Isn't it obvious?" The man, voice deep, chuckled. He spread his arms out and bowed, as if presenting a work of art, "Republic City still isn't safe from bender oppression."
"What?" Korra's eyebrows furrowed. Was this actually...? But it couldn't be. Her mind raced with 'what-ifs' and 'how-coulds' as she warily watched the man straighten his stance. He stood tall. Broad. Yet, something was off, a color or a scent. Something small and unnoticeable. Then again, he still was obscured by the smoke, sheathed around him like a shawl.
"The triads still run rampant in the streets. There's discrimination against non-benders. And what have you done, Miss Avatar?" The man approached her, pale hands curled into fists at his sides. As he near, his outfit came into focus. Shoulder armor, rimmed in red; a black tunic; a red sash; boots. Korra's gut flipped as he came to a standstill. Her eyes moved toward his face, trying to glimpse it through the roiling smoke, "You tried to lead Republic City into a war and destroyed the previous Avatar cycle."
Korra, tempted to snarl about the necessity of her actions, decided upon a simple question, "Who are you?"
"Please, Avatar, you know me." Amusement tinged the voice. He cut a hand through the air, clearing the smoke in front of him. Korra's eyes widened as her heart jumped into her throat. Her stomach bubbled with bile. He wore a white mask, trimmed in light gold and red, a black frown etched firmly into place, and a bright, red circle on his forehead, "I am Amon."
Korra felt as if the air were knocked out of her lungs. Amon. It had been so long since she heard the voice. Still, something itched at her brain, something was wrong with this man.
"You're not Amon. He died, long ago!" The Avatar snarled.
"Correction: Noatak died." Smugness writhed through the man's voice as Korra's eyes widened. His name hadn't been published. It wasn't in easy access for the general public. The Avatar swallowed hard as the masked man took a fighting stance. "Also, I am not a lying fraud."
A little too late, Korra realized the people watching were raising a ruckus. No wonder, considering the flames roared above them. However, she did easily hear her friends arrive. Bolin, bending a pillar much like Korra's, arrived with Mako and Asami. The firebender held fire daggers while Asami's technoglove flickered with lightning. As the group touched down on the roof, Korra turned.
Just as she turned, catching her friends in her sight, Korra's eyes widened. She realized why the people were shrieking down below. Behind her friends, a wall of green, grimy water rose slowly above the roof's level. Korra turned on her heal again, realizing what Amon's stance was. His hands were splayed, carefully drawing the water up. Her eyes widened, mouth caught between warning her friends and choking on her words.
Suddenly, an onslaught of water rained down on them. Boards – weakened by flames – snapped under the weight, steam hissed, people screamed. Chaos filled the night.