Drunk level: 2/10

Sober-ish

Choice of drink: Guinness

Mood: Foul

Writing: Meh.

Korra awoke hugging a bottle of cactus juice stashed between a snoring Bolin and a sleeping Opal. She knew she was awake because Bolin's wide-open mouth was breathing right into her ear sounding like a storm battering the windows from the way it brushed her hair into her face. Sighing she opened her eyes to the light on the ceiling and resisted the urge to groan, to say she was hungover was an understatement…she felt as dead as the annual otter-goose they sacrificed for mid-autumn solstice. What happened last night?
Her slow painful throbbing train of thought was interrupted by Opal's growl as she mumbled something in her sleep and snuggled further into Korra's shoulder, great, now she had to extract herself – hungover – from the Opal and Bolin sandwich of cuddling death, somehow Bolin was cradling her like a teddy and Opal was resting on top and partly over her chest and leg.

Oh yeah. That.

Soon after she had won the award Tarlock had swept her to an impromptu interview/media/"these are important people you should know now". Course it was a big deal, a native Southern Water Tribe woman finally winning the award and also a place at the prestigious Republic Royal Institute of Art. She discovered that 1. She was very chatty on cactus juice, 2. She didn't like interviews if they asked about anything other than her art 3. She missed Asami Sato leaving. As soon as she could pry herself away from Mrs Jing Lee Soon who seemed very fond of Korra's hands while Korra motioned about how she had been inspired by tracking and hunting techniques in her sculpting Bolin had hoisted her to the middle of an improvised staff party where they cheered her name– where mysteriously the leftover expensive booze from the charity auction ended up at Bolin's house. Mako who had come in from a late shift had seen it, raised an eyebrow and then proceeded to pour some into his coffee mug before toasting her from it. Everyone from work was there, Bolin had managed to inform Jinora, who sneaked out the house – but she passed on the booze since it messed up her spiritual connections. It was a perfect night that ended up with dancing, Korra giving a crappy speech about "showing the rich man who can make farts!" and the lot of them sinking into the hazy early Sunday morning among cigarettes, empty liquor bottles and the fog of celebration.

In the middle of it, Korra hadn't forgotten about Asami, she was in the bottom of every drink that was being poured from her and – sushi – the thought of food made Korra simply want to hurl but spirits she'll eat an entire platter now if it meant she could see her another time. She hadn't lied when Asami had asked those questions in truth her chances of winning were so slim she might as well have been written out of the entire award. When she found out she'd been shortlisted the panel had asked for five pieces but time and money and practically lack of studio meant Korra only submitted three. Bolin the ever-smiling optimist had convinced her to trade a shift just to see how things turned out, "it can't hurt and I bet none of that fancy smancy new modern stuff is as good as yours!" Look how the night had turned out!

Turning over she smiled and winced at the same time at his drooling face. If it wasn't for him she wouldn't have ran into Asami, who looked so gorgeous and despite being in an awkward situation between crazy-arguing-mother-issues-power-couple and slimy dirtbag gogegg she still seemed so elegant in her black evening dress, her slightly annoyed face scrunched up perfectly like her made up wavy black hair.

All of a sudden it just sunk in. Asami Sato. Asami Sato's company was funding her to go to the Royal Institute of Art…Asami Sato who kind of was the biggest deal in the these are important people you should know now. Asami Sato who said she would call her. Korra was 99% sure it was the booze but in her mind Asami Sato had gone from – cool girl I just happened to save from a sleezeball to Asami Sato, COO of Sato Industries and currently-kind-of-maybe-sort-of-like-a-bit-of-a-benefactor?

"Stop thinking. You're hungover."

Mako's voice floated through the room and her eyes darted over Opal to the doorframe where he was leaning his head into, his hair pointing in every single direction except down. He was shirtless and pale.

"What – you don't know that?"

"Korra you had that face right after we slept together."

"So just proves you don't know what I'm thinking."

"You only have two hungover phases – I'm hungover, feed me that disgusting sea prune sausages you love so much or I'm hungover and I regret… everything." He whispered the last bit. "Including this." He indicated at their current situation.

Korra sighed loudly and blew air out of her mouth "Fine." Bolin snorted and turned over. Perfect! She twisted before her brain could complain about the sudden motion and scooted to the end before collapsing onto the floor.

"Now I'm hungover and I want seal bacon as well."

"You know what I'm so hungover I might join you…" Mako trailed off.

"Fuck off you just don't want to admit you slept with Wu again."

A blush crept over Mako's cheeks. "You don't know that!"

"Mako you only have two hungover phases – I'm hungover, give me coffee, or I'm hungover and I slept with Wu again – get me the fuck out of here."

They stared at each other for a few minutes.

"Truce."

"Truce."

"Come on – rehydrate, coffee, then off to the little water tribe village for some good ole fashion seal bacon and sea prune sausages."

Mako groaned. "As long as you don't make me eat them."

Over on the other side of town…

Asami woke up to an omlette, not just any omlette, an omlette full of deliciousness, with chives, spring onions and that dash of fire nation pepper she liked. There was fresh coffee, lychee juice, a pot of Earth Nation style jam and Air Nation rice rolls. Lee had laid out everything for them in the garden room. She loved Sundays. When she was a child, it was the one day of the week that was certain to be filled with happiness from either her father taking her with him to the garage or her mother drawing with her at whatever place they decided to explore. As she got older, following Yasuko's death, it became a little harder to do but now Hiroshi made a point to take the morning off work at the very least and they would spend some family time together. And today was an excellent day to remind him of the fact that they were a family. She hummed to herself as she cut into her perfectly yellow square of egg and her father, seated opposite her with the The Sunday City Times raised an eyebrow between reading about the increase of stock prices in Steel due to the mineral mining in the Earth nation.

"Asami what is this?"

"It's an omlette daddy."

"Yes I know. But you're incredibly…tuneful about this omlette."

"It's a delicious omlette dad. You should try some."

"Hm." Hiroshi Sato put down his paper and took a bite. "Something tells me my daughter is more than happy about eggs." He looked fondly at her as he chewed.

"Mmm delicious as every Sunday we have them."

Asami smiled at him. "I'm thinking of taking art classes."

Hiroshi blinked. "You can already draw, you design sweetheart…"

"I mean actual art classes, at the institute."

Hiroshi stared at her for a moment and then burst laughed. "For a second there I thought you were being serious!"

"I am!"

"Asami you can draw, you draw better than any engineer or designer your age! And you are a talented artist. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Asami paused and drank her coffee, "I had an excellent night at the charity auction and…it made me think of mom."

Hiroshi paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. "She did love art."

Asami looked out a little sadly. They rarely spoke about her mother. Not that Hiroshi wouldn't compare her to Yasuko with pride or that Asami lied about the event of Yasuko's death but it was always easier, always safer and somehow always more bearable just to never mention it between anyone, not even them how much of a loss it was.

He placed his knife and fork down and reached over to take her hand.

"Asami. She loved art because to her nothing was more perfect than you and art was a way of capturing perfection…" He smiled a little sadly, his eyes darker behind his wire rim glasses. "I'm sorry I laughed my dear. If you want to take art classes go ahead… after all we paid for a department there." He winked.

Asami grinned widely, "Of course, it's the outside of the building."

"Now abour that. I read here." He picked up his discarded paper and straightened it out, "They're about to welcome the first ever Water Tribe woman who has won the best emerging artist award…with only three pieces at the show?"

Asami bit into her rice roll as she watched her father's eyebrows rise. Swallowing she smiled, "So last night…"