It's Thursday morning, you realize as you rub your eyes, grateful of the few hours of sleep you got. Your eye pains from the apple incident are practically gone now. Thank the spirits you didn't contract pink eye after all.
You get dressed fast, slipping on your light jacket since these mornings tend to be on the cooler side. Lastly, you grab a smaller bag you own instead of your trusty large shoulder bag, that one being much too bulky for your planned adventure. The inside of your bag holds your coin purse, and the single kunai you acquired from last night's fight with the Blue Mask. In the daylight, you get a better look at it. It's quite small, and made of a dark and heavy metal. It's not terribly sharp, likely dulled from use. The handle is wrapped in a blue material. Finally ready, you make your way into the streets.
Thursday means early morning market! You're not a big fan of shopping, but you just can't help yourself on Thursdays. It's not unusual to find some really good deals, and you love making chit-chat with all the polite vendors. Even on days when you don't make a purchase, you thoroughly enjoy a walk through the stalls, seeing what everyone has for sale that day.
This market is a ways away from your usual area. As you stroll merrily, you can feel the weight of the coins in your pocket. You ponder the kinds of objects that will be available today.
"My CABBAGES!" A man yells from down the street. You watch him as you wander by, the area looking more and more familiar as you take it in. You pass the man, who is looking very distressed over his smashed cabbage cart. Ah, now you remember. This is where you and the blue mask jumped off a roof together.
You continue your walk, and listen to the sparse chatter of the few citizens who are up and about this morning.
"—he says it was the Blue Spirit!"
"Don't'cha you mean Red Spirit?"
"No no, Geun-Lee specifically told me he saw a blue mask, not red.
"Great, now there's two of 'em?"
"Anyways, I'm helping fix his roof later today—"
You walk out of range of the conversation, having heard enough. Blue Spirit?
"How original," you mock in your mind. You shake away your thoughts with a laugh, and continue to the market.
This particular market is tricky to get to; its existence is hidden from the average person. As you walk, the residential/market district around you slowly becomes an industrial area. You pass warehouses, workshops, and small factories. You head toward the farthest warehouse. From all angles, this crumbling building appears abandoned. You enter. The inside is dead and empty, save for a few rotting crates. You make your way toward some of the crates and search for a specific one. You find the box with a faded black emblem and give it a push. Underneath it is a deep hole, with a ladder going down.
You enter unafraid and reseal the hole once inside. Now, you climb down and down into the darkness. Within a minute or so, you reach the light at the bottom. You dangle off the very last rung, and drop softly into a lit area. Welcome to the Thursday Market.
This (literally) underground market sells wares you can't get anywhere else. Weapons, explosives, illegal fireworks, drugs, certain booze, etc. Anything that's hard to sell with authorities around.
This black market is filled with dangerous goods and dangerous people; any regular person would fear for their life in a place like this. Not you, however. Growing up on the streets, you stumbled upon this market at a young age when looking for a dry place to sleep. Now, you've come to feel quite at home here. You know many of the vendors personally, such as Gopan, Scar-Nose, and The Knife Lady, to name a few.
They say this place was made by earth benders as a place to hide undocumented war refugees. As one crime invites more, this place eventually became a hub for illegal activity. The Thursday Market is your favourite community in the entire city.
You make your way over to a familiar stall. Metallic weapons catch the light of the flickering torches. A strangely beautiful sight, in a lethal, hoplophile kind of way. Not that you're attracted to weapons, but damn did these particular ones look enticing. They were good quality, probably the best in all of Ba Sing Se, and they were sold by none other than Hula, better known as The Knife Lady. (She'd kill you if you told anyone her real name)
She seems to be talking to another customer as you approach. You don't recognize him as one of the regulars. He was leaning coolly against the counter, but you could tell he was pretty tall, and probably around your age. His shaggy brown hair reminded you of a lions mane and his skin was tanned. You noticed an empty dual sheath on his back; the blades that were once there are likely to be currently in the care of Hula. The last thing you notice about him is a sliver of wheat that he holds in his mouth. Does this goof think he's a farmer or something?
Hula glances at you, and her usual resting glare turns into a slight smirk. "Hey there, Bandit," she says, referring to you with the street-given nickname from your childhood.
"Did you come to visit little ol' me? Need another pair of knives?" she teases. You snicker and hit her in the shoulder. "Nah, I came to see Scar-Nose. We're planning another big prank on Gopan." At 'prank', she gives you a withering 'not on my watch' stare.
"Hey, only joking!" By now you've noticed the guy at the stand is staring at you, his head tilted in an expression of interest.
"Jokes aside, I was wondering if you have any knives like this?" you hold out the 'Blue Spirit's kunai for her to see. The Knife Lady examines the kunai. "Ranged weapons, huh? I have a few things that you might like," she says as she begins to gather a handful of weapons. Beside you, the guy is still staring. You start to get uncomfortable. What's his deal?
"What are you looking at?" you demand. He snaps out of his trance.
"I was just surprised that such a pretty girl like yourself is interested in buying weapons," he says with a sly smirk. You scoff at his remark.
"Yeah, well this pretty girl is pretty dangerous," you retort, smoothly flipping the blue kunai in the air in front of him. You catch it with ease and then stow it back in your bag. He claps at your display.
"Nice party trick," he comments, standing up straight. Wow, he's taller than you thought. "You know, we could really use someone like you."
You're taken aback at this. "We?"
"I'm the leader of a… group of people. A group of young people who fight for what they believe," he states proudly.
"Sounds cheesy," you plainly state. "So what are you, some sort of recruiter for your little organization?"
He chuckles, "I can be anything you want me to be." And… did he just wink at you?
You feel yourself flush, but refuse to give in so easily. "Well, as it turns out, I'm quite the busy person, so I'll have to decline your offer, sir.
He frowns slightly. "Oh come on, what could you be doing that's more important than our cause?"
"Oh, I don't know, living my own life?" you snap back.
"Which can't be all that interesting, right?"
You are about to throw hands at this fool, when Hula returns with a case of throwing weapons, dropping it on the counter with an attention-grabbing thud. Having overheard the conversation, she interjects, "This punk bothering you?" while pointing to teen.
"Yes," you respond, just as he says, "No." Hula glares at him, grabbing a pair of hook swords from behind the counter. She hovers one right below the teen's throat, "How about you just pay me and scram before things get ugly."
The boy scrambles for his coins and slides them onto the counter. Looking pleased, Hula lowers the weapons and hands them over.
"Thanks for sharpening these for me, Miss.. uh-"
"Miss is fine. Now get outta my sight," Hula hisses at the boy. He sheaths his blades, winks at you again, and is on his way.
"Now, where were we? Ah yes." Hula waved one hand over the case of weapons. "Anything you like?"
You inspect your options, taking in the crazy variety of sharp objects, such as throwing stars, throwing knives, and just what you were looking for, traditional kunai. Disregarding the rest of the weapons, you peer closer at the selection of kunai. One particular variety speak to you: they are smaller than most, but retain their lethal appearance nonetheless. The are formed from a dark metal, and have a ring at the ends. The handles are wrapped in a deep red colored material, which is what entices you the most. You've made your decision.
"I really like these red ones here," you inform, pointing to the weapons in question.
"Fire Nation kuani? Interesting choice my dear. I have a few more in the back, they make a complete set of one dozen."
"I'll take them! How much?" you ask, readying your coin purse. Hula collected all twelve of the little throwing knives and boxed them in a thin wooden container.
"For you? Hmmm…" Hula brings a finger to her chin, pretending to think hard. Then, with a whisper in your ear, she says: "Free."
"Are you serious?" You look at her wide eyed. The Knife Lady has given you crazy discounts before, but this was something new. "What's the occasion? Are you just in a good mood?"
"Ha ha. I've had them for ages, and they won't sell anytime soon. Most people don't want to carry a symbol of the Fire Nation."
"Thank you so much… Hula." You whisper her real name ever-so quietly, respecting that she doesn't want it known, but not respecting it enough to stop you from teasing her. Before she can punch you, you spin on your heels and make off with the box.
"HEY!" She snaps. "I have the title "The Knife Lady" for a reason. Don't make me show you!" You wave her off and head home, eager to try out the newest additions to your collection.