This chapter is a little longer than the last, but I hope it will explain some things about the Red Monsoon. (Yes, they are all Waterbenders, according to the Avatar wikia). Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed the last chapter. Please give me more feedback! Stay flamin!
"I am shocked, Korra."
Tenzin stands before the Avatar looking both angry and disappointed, a combination that Korra hopes never to see again in her lifetime.
"Republic City needs an Avatar that knows how to handle high-pressure situations maturely, not one who resorts to brazen foolishness in order to display her apparent courage-"
"I'm sorry!" Korra snaps, growing exasperated with the airbender's scolding. She's a child, and she's perfectly capable of making her own decisions. She doesn't need advice from Tenzin or Tarrlok or anyone else. The current general consensus seems to be that Korra is naïve, stupid, too young and too sheltered to have her own opinions.
"I should have known that allowing you to attend a council meeting was unwise. Perhaps when you are ready to act like a young lady instead of a child, you may return."
"I'm not a child, Tenzin! I can make my own decisions," Korra informs him angrily. The airbending master purses his lips, and the tilt of his eyebrows tells her that he thinks rather differently.
"You're young and innocent, Korra, and you're eager to play hero. But I urge you to rethink your offer-"
Something inside of Korra's chest seems to crack open, releasing a hot rush that floods her cheeks with color.
"Play hero? Is that what you think I'm trying to do here? I'm trying to protect the city-your city -from a bunch of criminals!"
Tenzin takes a step forward, resting a hand on Korra's shoulder. His gentle touch usually calms her, reminding Korra of her own father, but now she just feels shame and anger.
"Korra, I know that it's difficult to find balance at times like these. I suggest that you meditate on your decision. It's not too late to revoke your offer of joining the task force, you know."
The young Avatar sighs, her eyes flitting to the ground. Her cheeks and neck are hot with humiliation. In her bid for valor, she has let everyone know just how guileless she really is. But she can't take back her offer now, and she doesn't want to.
"I won't, Tenzin. You know I won't."
He presses his lips together, and Korra can imagine him in five years, ten years, when his daughters bring home a boy, tell him that they might be in love. The way he'll look at them, like this: his mouth tight, narrow, his eyes full of worry and tenderness.
"I know, Korra."
"We have received word that several known Red Monsoon members are hosting a large party at Zhang's Speakeasy. There will be multiple Monsoon officers, as well as high-ranking bosses in attendance. Our informant tells us that the gathering will be an excellent opportunity to collect information about some of the more…elusive Monsoons."
Tarrlok paces back and forth across the raised platform of city hall, occasionally punctuating his lecture with dramatic pauses and loud inhales.
"A party…" Korra muses, paying attention to the older councilman for once. "Sounds like fun. How do we get in?"
Another hungry-seal-shark grin slides across Tarrlok's face.
"Not we, Avatar. You."
A girl born of water. That's what Sifu Katara had whispered when she first laid eyes on Korra. And the Avatar can see why, as she regards herself in the mirror. Tarrlok had arranged earlier for a dress to be sent over, something 'suitable for a party', according to the councilman. Korra had her doubts about the older man's fashion sense, but they've been forgotten now. The dress is pale blue, the color of the sea in spring, the color of Korra's eyes. She wonders, briefly and uncomfortably, if that's the reason that Tarrlok had chosen it. If he's been looking at her when she least expects it.
It's a little shorter than Korra's used to, the cerulean fabric falling to just above her knees. The sight of her bare legs, lean and bronzed, makes her feel strangely excited. She's never had occasion to wear something so…provocative. It makes her feel dangerous.
Korra is sure that Tenzin won't approve of the dress's length or plunging neckline, so she dons her Water Tribe cloak before ducking out into the quiet house. The airbending family is in the kitchen, Korra can see them through the doorway. Pema is standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot, Tenzin leaning over her shoulder, gently caressing her cheek. The Ikki and Meelo swirl around their feet while Jinora absently sets the table for the meal, a book in one hand. Korra feels a sharp pang somewhere under her breastbone, and wonders if it could be loneliness. Her parents lived with her at the South Pole training compound, but she never really got the idyllic childhood that everyone else seemed to have experienced.
Turning away, Korra slips out the side door and into the growing dusk. The evening is clear and chilly, a brisk wind rattling the shutters on the side of the house and sending tiny leaves swirling around Korra's feet. There's something new and foreboding on the air. It's silent, nameless, yet palpable. The water is smooth, lapping gently at the rocks, but Korra knows that it must be freezing. She hesitates for a moment before diving in.
"This is a big night for you, Tahno."
Uncle Zemin claps his nephew on the shoulder, his too-long fingernails digging through Tahno's shirt. He wants to squirm out of the older man's reach, but Zemin has a way of drawing people in and keeping them there.
"Lots of important people coming to this party. You must impress. Make your uncle proud, yes?"
Tahno nods, forcing a self-assured smile onto his face and attempting to mask his frayed nerves. He's been on edge for most of the evening, knowing that tonight he has to make an impression on the Monsoon bosses. He knows how much money is at stake here-he can practically smell the yuans-and he knows that all he needs to do is play the cards right. But Tahno's always been good at that.
He slips downstairs (not downstairs where Uncle Zemin keeps the bonds and files, but downstairs, to the basement, where there is a narrow passage connecting Xian's and Zhang's) and heads for the speakeasy next door. Already he can smell the stink of booze and the sharp odor of cactus juice. The stuff is illegal in Republic City, mostly due to the extreme hallucinations it causes, but Zhang's stocks it anyways. Tahno eases open the door to the private room that the Monsoon bosses have reserved for the evening-too important to mingle with the common folk in the bar, Tahno thinks-and goes inside. It's already buzzing with people, mostly lower-ranking officials and their wives or girlfriends. It's the higher-ups who have wives and girlfriends, but they won't be here until later. A few working girls mingle with the crowd, obvious and flaunting in their low-cut dresses and dangerously high heels. They're escorts, Tahno knows, too good for the street corners but too tainted to be someone's girl.
"Hey there, lover," one of the girls, a brunette with bright-red lips, wobbles over on mile-high heels. "Wanna go someplace a little more…private?"
Tahno watches her painted lips form the words, suggestive, seductive, and he feels something in his lower belly twitch. He could easily duck out now, have a quickie in the back ally. Loosen his nerves. A cum and run, they call it.
"Not now," he replies, tossing her a twist of the mouth that could pass for a smile. "Maybe later, doll."
She winks at him, her eyelashes heavy with kohl, and saunters away. Tahno watches her go, and thinks that he needs to get laid soon.
There's an unmarked police Satomobile halfway down the block from Zhang's, and Korra is sitting in the front seat watching people straggle off the street and into the speakeasy. Tarrlok is hunched on the driver's side, his bulky frame too large to comfortably sit on the narrow bench seat. He hands her some face powder and a stick of kohl.
"For your eyes," he says, and Korra takes it even though she never wears makeup and doesn't really know how to apply it. She's seen other girls smear it on, though, and she mimics the motions she's seen them repeat. In the end, her eyes are outlined dramatically in smoky black, and though the effect isn't quite what she was going for, she has succeeded in looking vastly different. The girl staring back at her in the dark glass of the windshield is exotic, beautiful in a sinister and vastly contaminated manner.
Tarrlok takesher shoulder, twisting the Avatar around to face him. Approval, and something else-longing, perhaps-flash across his face.
"You look…very nice. I'm sure you'll blend right in."
Korra nods, suddenly eager to escape the confines of the Satomobile and Tarrlok's hungry expression. She suddenly hates the way he looks at her-like she's a piece of meat in the window of the butcher's shop.
"I'll let you know when I'm done," Korra mutters, and shoves the door open. She can't make it down the street fast enough.
Sorry for all the line breaks. Ehehehe. Anyway, please, please, please review. I know, I'm a shameless review slut. :)