And now, a word from our sponsor: A Jinoochy subplot is confirmed. Once again, thank you for every lick of continued support, from review to favourite to alert. Love you guys with all my heart! And magic anons, keep on doing your magic. A beta reader is still desperately needed for this - I'm too squeamish to edit my own work. It's like if I were married and my wife were having a baby; I'm way too squeamish to watch my baby be born. Anyone want to be the helpful doctor? Anyone?

Tune it to A Taste of Republic City with Tahno every day at seven if you'd like to learn how a real pro cooks. Today, we'll be sampling Little Bird Brand Egg Cookies, cookies so delicious you'll be walking on air! A Taste of Republic City. It's one of those things you've got Tahno.

Back to the show.


The sun is already nearly at its zenith, casting its bright light upon the sparkling waters of Yue Bay. Rising up from the choppy waves is Air Temple Island, the highest temple from which it bares its name spiralling almost into the clouds themselves, a sky bison bellowing as it soars through the skies, its six legs splayed slightly, racing on an invisible staircase in the skies. Somewhat roughly it lands on the courtyard, shaking itself off as Tenzin airbends himself from Oogi's head. Rubbing the sky bison's nose, he asks, "Can you get to the stables yourself, Oogi? I know Lin's house isn't the bison-friendliest place to land." The sky bison snorts at him, blowing his robes back slightly, and turns to shuffle off awkwardly. Tenzin smiles; after so many years together, his animal guide knows his tongue. Gazing back at Republic City, he grimaces. "The Association is growing bolder," he murmurs to himself, desperately keeping his thoughts away from the true issue at hand: Lin's revelation on the status of the missing-face investigation, namely that the hideout on Sato grounds revealed nothing else and that the force as a whole has been unable to find any trace of what could have happened. As he crosses the courtyard, Tenzin reflects that he still needs to speak to Korra, the matter of her control over the Avatar State growing more urgent by the day: What he thought was full control over the Avatar State proved to be only control over energybending.

On the other side of the island, the door to the stables—originally meant for sky bison but since modified to fit polar bear dogs as well—is ajar. Faint strains of conversation whisper out into the air. "I don't know why Mako kicked her out either," Bolin is saying into the telephone receiver, fiddling with a metal rod and leaning against Naga. Her hot polar bear dog breath warms his face, her heavy head on one shoulder, Pabu snoozing gently on the other. "She's warm and soft and gentle. Okay, she snores a little, but who doesn't?" The earthbender reaches up to scratch Naga's ear; he hears her tail thumping loudly behind her.

Asami's voice answers through the receiver: "Korra must miss her. She probably slept with Naga since she was young, growing up in the Southern Water Tribe." A laugh. "As the Avatar, she wouldn't have had many friends."

Absentmindedly Bolin plays with the curly wire. "You sound like you're speaking from experience. Which would be sad."

"I was 'the Sato daughter' growing up, Bo." She pauses. "I'm glad I have friends now."

"Yep! Bet you never knew what you missing. We're going to have to do all the best things, birthday parties and surprise parties and just party parties." He glances at the metal rod in his lap. "I was really worried about Korra back there. When her eyes started glowing . . ."

Asami's tone grows quiet. "Did you tell her you were the one to help her from the Avatar State?"

Bolin inhales, rapidly thinking of an emergency topic change. "You know, Sifu Beifong's been trying to teach me how to metalbend, but it hasn't been coming for me." He grasps the rod and attempts to recall his sifu's lectures. "She was telling me to imagine myself turning into metal. Not literally me turning into metal. More like the dirt in the earth turning into metal."

"Bolin, I can hear you sweating." He focuses on the metal rod, but it refuses to budge, no matter how much he concentrates; it's like he was never cut out for metalbending. "You still love her. I know what that's like, loving someone you're not allowed to love."

Blinking, he listens carefully to her voice, but Asami seems strangely happy, even though she's speaking about Mako of all people; he can imagine her face, her green eyes twinkling as brightly as his, smiling faintly, the thought of her former boyfriend bringing a bittersweet joy to her. Naga barks and licks the back of his head, sticking the hair up spikily. "Hey, you okay, Asami?"

"Of course I am, Bolin. Don't worry about me." Bolin sits up, grasping the receiver more tightly in his left hand, sensing something vital on the horizon. "In fact, I think I'm over him."

He breaks out into a wide grin, dropping the receiver as he stops to applaud her wildly. As soon as he realises what he's done, he lunges for the receiver and snaps it up into his grip again. "That's fantastic! You're fantastic!"

Asami laughs. "Thank you, Bo. You know how to make a girl blush."

"Yeah, now if only I could make Korra blush. . . ." Bolin shrugs. From nowhere, he hears rapid footsteps outside, approaching swiftly, footsteps that he would know from anywhere, and his eyes widen. "Asami, I think I'm going to have to call you back."


A puff of sugar finishes the egg cookie, the scent of the white powder sweet and delectable to Jinora, and she adds another puff to be sure. Smiling, she places the sugar shaker back onto the counter and stands up. The kitchen smells of sweetness and deliciousness, the tray of freshly baked cookies warm in her hands. Sighing with satisfaction, Jinora uses airbending to flip the page of the cookbook. Ensuring she hasn't missed any steps—a single one could mess up the entire recipe—she closes it and sets the egg cookies to cool on the counter. As she airbends the flour, sugar, and crumbs from the counter, neatly bending them back into their proper containers, she sets about busily placing the rest of the ingredients into their proper places. Faintly, she wishes that her mother could be here to see how far her cooking skills have advanced, but Jinora's aware that there is Rohan to care take of now, as well as the injured Mako.

She's surprised by the pang of jealousy, and she distracts herself by nibbling on the edge of a cookie. Footsteps swell in the hall; Jinora glances at the door, a familiar man at the entrance, sniffing the air, his signature curl of hair falling over the right side of his face. "Egg cookies again?" he inquires, quirking an eyebrow. "Sweet as sugar I see."

Jinora smiles. "Good morning, Tahno. Would you like a cookie? What are you doing on Air Temple Island?"

"One question at a time, please." Tahno strokes one of the cookies with an index finger, slipping it between his lips to suck the sugar off suggestively. "I'm here to check up on my dear friend, the Uhvatar."

The airbender blinks and tilts her head to one side. "How did you find about Korra?"

"I was there for the whole thing." He smirks. "The party couldn't start without me." Plucking up a sweet, Tahno takes a delicate bite. "I daresay you should start your own cooking show, little bird. These cookies are the best I have ever tasted." He winks. "And trust me, I've tasted quite a few."

Jinora blushes. Though she isn't sure of his intentions, she doesn't think he means any harm. "Thank you. Korra's fine. She was weak from using the Avatar State, but I researched it. That's normal." She thinks of the thick stack of tomes on her bedside stand, towering high above her. "Mako was hurt worse, but my grandmother healed him."

"An entire family of wonders. I suppose it's what happens with such talented benders around." Tahno inclines his head, flicking up and catch the final bite of egg cookie. "Well, well, little bird, do you think you could direct me to the Uhvatar?"

Her good mood is shot through with suspicion; she recalls Korra's angry reaction to his first appearance. "Why do you want to know?"

"I want to see how she's doing is all." He shrugs slowly, seductively. "A loser like that needs to be checked up on, eh?" Tahno pops the last of the cookie into his mouth. Jinora frowns and looks down at the tray.

"Could I interest you in a game of pai sho?" she tries.

He cocks an eyebrow. "I win, you take me to see the Uhvatar. You win, I show you how to make these egg cookies even better. Deal?"

Jinora considers, but she can sense him genuinely attempting to be a good friend. "Deal."


Her heart is flipping over itself, her world composed of a whirl of colours spinning round and round her vision, her stomach filled with lead, her lungs burning like fire, the fire she lost and found and lost again . She hates herself for being so weak, so dependent on Mako, so much of wet rag without him, like he was the pillar upon which her entire existence demanded, and now, without him, she discovers that she stands on pillar of salt and pillars of sand. All she wants right now is her best friend, her true friend, the only one that loves her unconditionally: Naga.

She bumps into the stable door, not expecting it to open, the pain in her ahead unable to match the pain in her heart, and airbends it away from her, running into the stable, her vision blurry from tears but still able to see the mound of white that is her polar bear dog. Her knees buckle, her legs folding under her; collapsing to the floor, she falls on top of Naga, burying her face in the coarse fur, her fingers curling around hairs, her cheeks hot and wet. The sobs that she's been holding in come out of her now, tearing from her lips, hurting her throat. Below her, Naga shifts; Korra feels her nose, moist and cold, push into her hand, and she hangs onto the polar bear dog's head. Whining, Naga licks her face, her tongue rough yet oddly comforting against her cheek.

"Korra?"

She freezes, her veins filling with frost, pressing herself even more against her best friend's bulk. The universe truly despises her, or it's just her luck, but she can't face anyone now, especially not the brother of her boyfriend. Or former boyfriend. She doesn't even know anymore.

Warm arms wrap around her, drawing her into a hug; Naga follows her, padding along the stable floor to keep her muzzle in her palm. She feels herself pulled into his lap, her shoulders shaking from her crying, her face hot from her humiliation at being seen like this, weak and needy. But he says little, only holds her in a hug, whispering her name over and over like a prayer, and for some reason she trusts him more in that moment than anyone else.

She unravels in his embrace, the dam finally broken, all of her emotions and fears and hopes and dreams coming out at once, from the weight of her Avatar duties to the faceless councilmen to the terrifying visions of Koh she has been having. Unlike Mako, he doesn't ask, doesn't push, doesn't force her to tell him.

Just embraces her.

And she finds, in that moment and in all those that follow, that there is something more beautiful than Mako holding her.

Bolin holding her.


The city glows brown and gold, a siren wailing faintly in the distance, the stench of burning rubber and the freshly deceased drifting across the buildings and through the streets. A blue satomobile hugs the road as it races past, the black tinted windows betraying nothing within, the vehicle bumping up when it nears the curb, running over a body with splayed limbs, the sickening crunch of bone making Skoochy want to vomit. Quietly the street rat slinks through the muted alleyways, footsteps crunching the snow. He clutches his cap, keeping it on his scraggly hair, his gaze rapidly flicking to and fro, aware that the slightest misstep could result in his head mounted on a spear somewhere.

Skoochy swallows and looks ahead. One of the buildings ahead is still on fire, a family of four huddling outside on the sidewalk to watch it burn, the mother holding the hands of her three children. Or an elder sister. Or even a disjointed make-up family of random street urchins. One never knows. Their hungry, gaunt faces are highlighted in pale yellow from the flames eating up their homes, the turf war between the triads taking the greatest casualties amongst the innocents.

For a second or two he considers lifting his cap and producing the hard-to-find moon peaches he has been hiding all day, but Skoochy needs those himself. It may be his only dinner.

Playing informant in a time of war is dangerous even for him, especially in the middle of the day. A safe place until night, when a shadow with the form of a twelve-year-old may go unnoticed amid the shady dealings and dark actions undertaken when the sun doesn't shine and the hearts of those involved are as frozen as the ice around them, the chill of winter driving a desperation as never before.

Skoochy swears there's never been a winter as cold as this one.

He notices a dumpster up ahead, the lid lifted slightly, and quickly decides that a few hours spent among bags of trash would be safer than his current environment. Lifting the lid, the street rat glances inside and wrinkles his nose. "Guess they don't throw out roses here." As he dives into the dumpster, one hand still on his cap, he hears a shout from a few metres away. Popping his head out from the garbage bags, the rotting food providing warmth in the chill of the winter, Skoochy yells back: "What's it to you?"

"I know who you are, Skooch." A man's timbre. Skoochy knows the voice but can't quite attach a name to it; either way, it belongs to a Triple Threat. Formerly the weakest of the triads after Zolt's debending, the Triple Threats have risen in status now that Asokin has been captured, the Agni Kais dissolving into multiple miniature factions fighting amongst themselves for control of the criminal empire with a monopoly on the prostitute trade. "Do you know I am?"

"A Triple Threat." Skoochy feels for the knife in his jacket nestled next to the yuans, the moon peaches in his cap suddenly far less important. "What you want?"

The man chuckles. "Protection. Hai sent me here to welcome you to our turf with open arms if you want us to." The street rat's fingers curl around the handle of the blade. "She thinks someone's going to try to kill you, if you didn't catch my drift."

"Who, you? 'Cause guys like you're all bark 'n' no bite."

"What's this? The informant needing to be informed?" A crunch in the snow, much louder than his, an unpractised thief but potentially a brute murderer. "Nah. I'm here on Hai's behalf to offer you shelter from the storm. Can't stop the rain, now can you?"

Skoochy snorts. "I can wear a hat. Stops the rain real nice."

"Spunky little kid, ain't you?" Something clicks, and the street rat immediately readies himself for attack, but nothing comes of it. "Just a friendly warning. Honour among thieves and all that."

"Ain't no one out here got honour," Skoochy retorts. "And I ain't going to go with Zolt's old call girl."

The man makes a noise in his throat, one that almost sounds like a threat. "Eh, it's your head that's going to roll. Agni Kais' under new management."

Skoochy sniffs and peeks up from the top of the dumpster. The man's dark green eyes bring a name to him: Wulin. "Don't care. Got news? Need it? No? Then scram."

Shrugging, Wulin turns about and starts back through the snow, his hands in his pockets. He calls back over his shouder: "You're dead, Skooch. And no one's going to be at your funeral is the saddest part."

"What funeral?" The street rat lets the knife slip back into his inner pocket and discreetly removes one of the moon peaches from his cap, shining it on his jacket, but the skin merely grows dirtier. When he bites into it, the flesh tastes too sweet, the overripe juices trickling down his chin. "If I die, there ain't going to be no funeral." Another bite; he slides down into the dumpster, settling himself between the bags of garbage for the added comfort and warmth, drawing the cap low over his eyes. "Got no need for one anyway. Ain't the viper cat's pyjamas or anything."

From somewhere far-off, perhaps one of the buildings above him, someone—a woman—laughs.

He sinks lower into the garbage and finishes off the moon peach in silence.


Click.

Tahno cocks an eyebrow at her, his index finger still on the pai sho tile.

"One more point for me, little bird." A smirk quirks the corner of his mouth. "I daresay I win."

Frowning from the other side of the table, Jinora stares at the pai sho board, going over the array of tiles, counting the harmonies and disharmonies. Remembering to keep her elbows off of the table, she makes a few strokes on her piece of paper carefully, counting the score, and her eyes widen when she sees by how much he has beaten her; the best pai sho player in her family, she is astounded by how amateurish she was against him. The familiar padding of the chair supports her, and she relaxes into it once she is certain that he isn't trying to trick her. "You're amazing at pai sho."

"I'm amazing at everything," he responds vaguely, leaning back in his chair in a way reminiscent of Uncle Bumi. "So, did we have a deal or not?"

Jinora nods, placing the pen neatly next to the score sheet. "Of course. I'll take you to see Korra right away."

Tahno smiles, the quirk for once gone, and he sweeps the tiles back into the wooden storage box teetering precariously on the edge of the table, catching it when it falls from the weight and holds it up for her. She plucks the board from the wood and folds it, aligning corner to corner, and places it into the box. He closes the lid with a decisive clack, then settles back in his chair, clearly waiting for her to say something.

The door flies open with a bang of airbending. Riding in an air scooter is Ikki, her voice high-pitched, her words rapid-fire as she airbends herself around the room, whooshing along the walls and floor, casting a gale that picks up the wooden box and nearly flings it into the air but for an entirely unfazed Tahno immediately snatching it as it whizzes by him, his hair blown about in the miniature storm. Jinora squints from the breeze in her eyes and swirls a sphere of protective air around herself and him, protecting them from Ikki's bending.

"Jinora Jinora guess what trick Uncle Bumi taught me?" The girl's eyes grow large, and she drops to the ground in an instant, bending itself a soft landing. Her mouth open in an O, Ikki leaps up and lands sitting on the table in front of Tahno. "Ooh, who are you?" She waves her hand in his face. "I'm Ikki the airbender and this is Jinora my big sister and she's kind of boring because all she ever reads is sappy romance novels and—"

Tahno lifts a hand and presses her lips together. The slightest noise unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet, Jinora blinks and begins to put away the wooden box. "Ssh." Ikki bobs her head up and down eagerly, and he releases her; she flops backwards onto the table and grins.

"I like this guy. He's nice. Why's he is? Is he Korra's new boyfriend?" She giggles.

"Not at all." He smirks. "I'm just the Uhvatar's friend."

Politely Jinora intervenes, using airbending to suck her sister from the table and helping her land on the floor. Pouting, Ikki makes unhappy noises and crosses her arms. "Come on, Tahno. I'll show you to Korra's room."

Tahno slides out of the chair, rightening himself with a fluid motion akin to a serpent or a river of water, and gives Ikki a smooth two-finger salute. "Lead the way, little bird."


If there's one thing to be said about the protestors, it's that they are persistent.

Though the majority of the protest has calmed down from the raging surge of several days ago, the Citywide Association of Nonbending Persons is evidently intent on making the United Republic Council's job as difficult as possible, a miniature sea of tents sprung up seemingly overnight in front of City Hall, a handful of protestors up and about already, megaphones against their mouths, their battle cry audible even through the thick walls of the building, growing unbearably noisy when the doors open:

"We want equality! We want it now! We want equality! We want it now!"

Grimacing, Lin slams the doors to City Hall shut behind her, her armour clinking and creaking as she spins around and places her hands on her hips to stare at the council, the only missing member the recovering Avatar. Her eyes narrow at Wang Jin, waiting impatiently for his turn to have a say in the discourse.

Jiao is speaking, the Fire Nation diplomat's voice silky-smooth as always, like poisoned honey. "I daresay we have already seen the city under the leadership of a nonbender." He smiles, curling one sideburn with a finger. "The legislation you are asking us to pass is frankly ridiculous, and I doubt that any of it is practical." His warrior's wolf tail bobbing up and down against his head, Hado nods his head furiously, for once agreeing with Jiao. On the other side of the curved desk, Tenzin sighs. Lin wishes she could put a steadying hand on his shoulder as she has done so many times for him before, earthbend him a bench in the midst of nowhere, his one comfort in an ocean of madness and chaos.

Wang Jin flings a careless arm at him. "You have three days!" he snaps, his beard bristling. "In three days' time, if a proper solution to the nonbenders' woes is not reached, the Association will have no choice but to strike back!"

"Is that a threat, esteemed Wang Jin?" Jiao counts, his smirk widening.

Hado butts in: "It is illegal to threaten the city!"

"Hey, calm down." Bumi nudges the Water Tribe diplomat with an elbow.

The waterbender glares at the United Forces general. "Stupid nonbender."

Wang Jin opens his mouth to shoot off a reply. "Enough!" Tenzin smashes the gavel; Lin can sense the tension in his shoulders. "Yes, Wang Jin? What did you say about the solution?"

The leader of the Association holds up three fingers. "Three days. No more, no less. I will see you then." Swivelling about, his robes flapping noisily behind him, Wang Jin makes for the door but gasps in surprise and fear when he sees Lin, who pushes past him and makes for the floor.

She addresses Tenzin: "You called me here to give the council the full report."

Bumi leans in. "What's up, chief?"

"Is it that nonbending wench?" Hado sits up, his distaste for the female police chiefs momentarily forgotten in the hopes of gaining dirt on another powerful female.

Lin takes a breath. "We've no leads whatsoever—" Hado mutters something that sounds akin to incompetent woman. "—but we are confident that Sato has nothing to do with this." She allows her gaze to travel from one councilperson to the next, watching each squirm under its weight and severity. "But we did discover something."

Tenzin inhales. "What is it, Chief Beifong?"

"There are reports coming in from all over: Benders are being kidnapped." Her eyebrows slant for a moment. "And their bodies are turning up on the street.

"Faceless."


Commercial break.