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"And this is my boy, Tahno!" Uncle Zemin's hand closes around the back of the waterbender's neck and he shakes him back and forth lightly.
"Your son?" Wu Lao, a skinny rat of a man in pinstripes and a fedora, quirks an eyebrow. "He looks so...young."
Tahno sucks in a breath; his uncle dislikes others commenting on his age. Zemin considers himself in peak fitness, despite a growing paunch and the silver streaks in his hair.
"My nephew, of course. Came here to seek his fortune, haha!"
Tahno is grateful that his uncle has left out the part where he had engaged in a violent altercation with his father and fled his hometown disgraced, in the middle of the night.
Lao observes the young man with narrowed eyes. One pale, spiderlike hand rises to stroke his scant goatee, the other is clasped tightly around a cocktail glass that contains a colorful liquid.
"I might have a job for you," he says slowly, in between sips of the drink. "Come to Wang's Warehouse tomorrow night, eight o'clock. Don't be late, Tahoe."
Tahno is too pleased with himself and his obviously superior networking skills to correct Lao. He bows deeply, palms pressed together.
"Thank you, sir."
Lao scoffs, waves the cocktail at him.
"Straighten up. You're not a damn monk."
Korra's heart pounds as she sidles through the throng of people assembled outside the bar. Zhang's is obviously a popular destination for gangster and law-abiding citizens alike, and there's a long line threading through the door. A hefty guard leans against the doorway, puffing on a cigar and turning away underage revelers and others deemed unworthy of entrance.
"Excuse me," Korra says when she reaches him. "I'm here for the party."
He sneers at her ignorance and gestures with the smoking cigar towards the queue of club-goers.
"Get in line, sweetheart."
She pulls her cloak down, revealing just enough cleavage before replacing the blue fabric.
"I'm working here, get it?"
He sighs, shakes his head, and waves her inside.
"Just don't be blowing people outside, honey."
She sashays past, a new kind of swagger in her step. She's gotten past the first obstacle, the rest of the evening should be a breeze.
Tahno is leaning against the bar, downing his third fire whiskey of the evening when he sees her. She saunters through the door like she owns the damn place, her hips swaying, her chest pushed forwards, a proud tilt to her chin. Her dress is short, tight, displaying curves in all the right places. She must be an escort, but she bears little resemblance to the desperate, half-drunk whores that are wobbling around the room. She radiates a clean, pure light that is slowly hypnotizing Tahno. He wants to know her.
She saunters up to the bar and hesitates when the bartender asks what she wants. Confusion flickers across her face, into her cobalt eyes.
"Umm…"
Tahno wonders if she's ever been to a bar before. She certainly looks young, definitely too young to drink. Legal age in Republic City to consume alcohol is eighteen, but Tahno's been drinking for long before that. He sidles over, leans casually against the bar.
"Two fire whiskeys, straight up."
The bartender nods and slips away, and Tahno turns to the mystery girl.
"It's on me."
She wheels to face him, eyebrows arching down. Her lower lip pushes out in an adorable pout.
"I can pay for my own drink," she snaps, and he's surprised-usually escorts expect beverages and meals to be paid for. No wonder, considering the rude bastards they have to put up with all night, but still.
"What's your name, doll?" Tahno queries, and the girl bites her lip before answering,
"Korra."
Then her eyes get big, as if she's let something slip. He chuckles, she was probably planning on using a fake name, something cute and cheesy that means flower or beauty.
"Nice name." He extends a hand. "I'm Tahno."
Korra takes it, her grasp warm and firm. It's been a while since he touched a woman in a plutonic way. Their drinks arrive, and Tahno tips his back expertly, enjoying the burning sensation it leaves on his tongue. Korra stares at her glass like she's not sure what to do with it.
"Go on," Tahno encourages, tipping his tumbler towards her. "Drink it!"
Damn it, Korra chides herself silently. Why did you tell him your real name? That's got to be rule number one of undercover police work, right? Never reveal your true identity.
But it's too late for that now, and Korra doesn't want to seem weak so she downs the fire whiskey. It stings going down, blazing a hot trail to her stomach and smarting on her tongue. It leaves a hot sensation behind, one that Korra enjoys.
"Another?" Tahno asks, and she notices that he's already on his second (or maybe he's had more, before she arrived) so Korra nods and accepts the drink that he pushes forth into her hands. She drains it in one gulp, no pussy-footing around for the Avatar.
"I like a girl who can hold her liquor," Tahno grins, resting a hand on her shoulder. Korra smirks back at him, and she begins to wonder what kind of ties he has to the Monsoons.
"Want to go outside?" She asks, gesturing to the crowded bar. Tahno chuckles and shakes his head, a leering smile on his lips.
"Now, now, Korra, you can't expect to lure me in that easily. Although I do appreciate your forwardness…"
She scoffs at him through her nose, grabbing his wrist and jerking him towards the door.
"Don't flatter yourself. I just want to talk, pretty boy."
He follows her, like a lamb trailing after a lion, and they weave through the throng of people and duck outside. It's cold in the back ally that runs behind Zhang's and the neighboring shops, and Korra exhales light clouds of steam. She thinks, for a short moment, that this might be the closest she'll ever come to airbending.
Tahno stands in the back ally next to Korra, back against the brick wall, suddenly not sure of what to do. Escorts don't bring men back here to talk, they bring them back here to blow them for twenty yuan.
"You know, girls of your profession don't generally bring their clients back here for conversation," he informs her. Korra levels him a harsh stare, and he wonders what the hell she's doing.
"I'm new at this, okay?" She tips her head back against the bricks, lifting her gaze to the star-speckled heavens. He wonders if she's looking at the stars, although they aren't very bright here. The lights of the city have washed their luminescence away, leaving only faint pinpricks of light.
"Fresh off the boat, huh?" He asks. He's willing to bet that she's water tribe, going by her tanned skin and blue eyes. Korra nods, suddenly looking a little lost.
"Yeah. You know, when I got to Republic City, I sure as hell never thought I'd be doing this."
He feels bad for her, but doesn't respond. He refuses to offer her his own story, his sympathy. They're vastly different, he tells himself. She's probably a non-bender, a simple country girl who expected to find fame and fortune in the big city. Tahno's eyes rove her figure hungrily-he can tell that she's strong and nubile beneath the fabric, and that clingy dress does nothing to hide the swell of her breasts or the flare of her hips. She catches him staring, and glances over with sparkling eyes.
"Like what you see?"
He nods, his throat suddenly dry. He wants to touch her, to run his hands over her body, to feel her writhe beneath him. He wants Korra on her knees, his hands threading through her dark hair, swallowing him. He shivers a little-he doesn't even know her, but she's cast a spell over him.
"Yeah," he whispers ineloquently, his hands falling on either side of her head. "I do."
And he kisses her, pressing their lips together, his tongue skating across her teeth. She stiffens, her body going rigid, and he knows that she's not used to this. To having her tongue in someone else's mouth, to quickies in dark allies. She shoves him off, hands splayed against his chest, her breathing ragged. Her stare is wild, frightened, like a mule-deer caught in the headlights of a speeding Satomobile.
"I don't even know you," she stammers. Tahno forces a sad laugh, trying not to show how badly he feels.
"Honey, you're not going to last very long here."
Korra groans and sinks down to perch on the edge of a wooden crate, her head in her hands.
"I wish I never would have come to Republic City," she says, her voice raw and honest. "I hate it here. Back home, I had friends, a family. Here I'm just another nameless whore."
Tahno feels a surge of pity, and he takes a seat beside her, drapes an arm across her shoulders. It's a plutonic gesture, he doesn't want to push her any further tonight. Tonight. Like he'll ever see her again.
"I felt the same way when I came here," he offers, and Korra perks up a little. Then she droops again, letting out a gusty sigh.
"But you're in the Monsoons, right? That's kind of like being in a family. I have no one."
"My uncle's business provides bail bonds for the Monsoons. He fixes the books for them sometimes, too, he's good with that kind of stuff…"
Tahno knows that he should definitely not be giving this kind of information away so freely, especially not to a call girl, but something about Korra invites honesty. He can't help himself.
"That's nice," she replies, sounding a little bored. "I don't really know much about the Triads, really, except that they're dangerous. Everyone tells me to stay away from them."
Tahno gives her a playful little shove.
"I'm a menace to society, I know."
She giggles a little and straightens out of her slump.
"Totally."