I’d meant to have this kunik series ready for Valentine’s Day. That obviously didn’t happen, but who needs an excuse to enjoy some cute couples mushing their faces together?????
Started this super self-indulgent accompanying art for my super self-indulgent longfic last year for my birthday and finally finished it off this year for my birthday.
It may take a while, but I'll hit all these beats. THEY. WILL. KISS.
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Demonstrating some wushu skills: 寸掌 (cun4zhang3; one-inch palm strike), 手刀 (shou3dao1; knifehand strike), 寸拳 (cun4quan2; one-inch punch), 隔山打牛 (ge2shan1da3niu2; lit. hitting a cow from the other side of a mountain, in wushu: indirect knockdown)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
“So what’re ya thinkin’ fer supper?” asks Quyt into Akiya’s shoulder. Still in their work clothes, they’re snuggled up safely in their shared cot. Even without the security a door provides, it’s comfortable enough in the ladies’ bunkhouse. Shapes flicker like shadow puppets across the thin privacy curtain as other workers pass by, on their way to and from their own shifts. The evening is young, and there’s still plenty of money to be made, rubes to be had.
“Zaofu.”
“We’re better off savin’ up.”
“The monorail’s free while we’re in town. S’what I heard.”
“Hrmph…”
“C'mon! Zaofu has real food! Not just food; cuisine!” Akiya reaches up toward the ceiling with one hand, as if beseeching the heavens, and clenches her fist. “I swear, if I have one more deep-fried cabbage-on-a-stick, I'll barf myself to death.”
Quyt pushes herself up onto an elbow and smirks. “Fellas’d probably pay t’see that, actually.”
Akiya clenches her jaw to suppress a grimace. She doesn't do sideshows. Girls are always expected to get their tits out for extra cash, and hers have an exclusive engagement. Even shill work beats the sideshows. Before the ticket booth gig, her main job was tending the circus animals between sets. It was messy but straightforward, and none of the hog-monkeys ever asked her to take her shirt off.
“We can afford a night out. Look,” says Akiya, sitting up. She reaches into her jacket and pulls a tightly folded paper envelope from an inner pocket. As soon as it’s free, it pops open, sending loose change tumbling all over the cot. “Dangit!”
“Where’d ya get all that? Knock over a candy stand?”
Akiya snatches up a coin before it can roll off the edge and drops it back into the envelope. “Walk money, mostly. Not bad for a day’s work.”
“Mostly?”
“I found some of it on the ground.”
Quyt sits up and narrows her eyes.
“Hey, it’s not like I’m shortchanging anybody! If townies wanna leave a little cash lying around, it goes in my pocket, is all,” says Akiya. “Like a tip,” she adds with a shrug.
“Not so high ‘n’ mighty now, are ya?”
Akiya rolls her eyes. “I never said fortunetelling was wrong. I’d just feel weird lying to people like that.”
“You think that’s what I do all day?”
“You mean, what you do all day in the tent with the signs all over it proclaiming magical knowledge of the future?”
“That’s just some spooky showmanship. Gettin’ in their heads. Lettin’ their guards down.” Quyt cups her hands in front of her. “You think I’d get any customers if I walked up to ‘em holdin’ a bowl o’ oily water?”
“I dunno. I’d be curious.”
“Tell ya a secret,” says Quyt, leaning closer. Her big, turquoise eyes manage to gleam in the paltry light of their bunk. “The water’s the thing. The trick is gettin’ ‘em lookin’ at the shapes while I lookit them. You c’n tell a whole helluva lot about a fella if he doesn’t know he’s bein’ watched.” With a smirk, she leans back against the bunkhouse wall, and Akiya relishes the way her hair rustles like soft hay. “I tell ‘em what I see. Throw in a few educated guesses so they don’t feel cheated. They like it. They expect it.”
Akiya joins her girlfriend against the wall, shifting her weight carefully to avoid hurling loose coins off of the cot. “I seem to remember you telling that jerk-ass he was gonna have three kids. If that was an educated guess, then I’m a Dai Lee secret agent.”
Quyt giggles. “That was an outlier an’ shouldn’t be counted.”
so quite a lot of people expressed interest in a guide to lion dance! and since the lunar new year is coming up in a couple weeks, which means everyone’s exposure to lions is probably going to increase, i figured i’d go ahead and make it! right click + open in new tab to fullview, etc etc, i hope it’s helpful, although if you only take one thing away from this powerpoint, it’s this: lions are not dragons
disclaimer: i learned fut san style at an american university, and the senior members of the troupe were almost all from hong kong and taiwan, so most of my knowledge is drawn from what they taught me. lion dance varies widely depending on the style and the country of origin, and many schools do things differently! this is just an attempt to establish a baseline and give you a really basic intro to one of my favorite art forms. :)
I'm of the belief that Bumi has a big sweet tooth, which is one of the big reasons why he gained so much weight after retirement. Sweets are normally contraband in the United Forces, and while Bumi could smuggle in his own supply as a high-ranking officer, he still had to be sneaky about it and indulge sparingly to make it last. After retirement, he had unfettered access to sweets for months, and he went a little nuts, partially out of boredom. Once his broken arm healed and he started focusing on his airbending training, the weight fell off as quickly as he gained it.
I've thought too much about this, clearly.
Apologies if my response doesn't make sense I'm very sick and doped up on three different medicines, but yes I agree with this a lot.
I feel like with the fact that he was probably just hanging around with the kids and trying his hand at fun hobbies he did earlier as only for a short while, I can definitely see him snacking with the kids a lot without realising. He and Ikki painting? Yeah he's got a plate of sweets and he's popping one into her mouth and one into his. Oops how did they finish it that quickly though?
Also as a guy who goes to the gym regularly (or used to, till November), it's rather easy to build back muscle when you've been working for all your life (which Bumi has, also taller people have to work for a VERY long time before getting proper muscles so woo. Damn Bumi), so I can see how he quickly goes back to muscles.
First off, I'm sorry to hear you're still not feeling well. Get lots of rest, and I'm sure it'll pass soon!
I definitely see the snacking with the niblings thing happening—since he's such a fun uncle, after all—but I also think he gave himself lots of excuses to go get sweets on his own.
Out exploring his old Republic City stomping grounds, and there's a new ice cream parlor? Why the hell not? He's retired. He's earned it! And he has to keep going back until he's tried every flavor, even the durian.
It's pretty chilly tonight! Better make some hot cocoa, topped with a generous amount of whipped cream.
Going out for a nice dinner? Sure, he'll have dessert. Actually, both of those options look great, so double dessert it is!
Not allowed to carry a flask of alcohol around? Fine, he'll fill it with fruit drops instead.
Smells like Pema's been making cookies! He's sure she won't mind if he helps himself to a handful, or two.
For the last one, I imagine that happened often enough once he moved back to Air Temple Island that Pema got pretty annoyed with him. Instead of telling him off, she agreed to make extra sweets if he agreed to help her in the kitchen, which seemed like a fair trade to him. Some traditional Air Nomad recipes require airbending to get just right, so once his abilities manifested, he became her go-to guy to try them out. Tenzin's hopeless in the kitchen, and the only one of her kids who really took to cooking was Rohan, who turned out to be a waterbender. A few of the new airbenders eventually started helping, too, but none of them with Bumi's zeal and talent for organizing chaos.
His adventures in Air Nomad cuisine started with the sweets and steadily expanded from there, so by season four, he wouldn't hesitate to wander into the kitchen and offer to help if he saw her and the other Acolytes cooking. Sometimes he'd even get his own ideas of food he'd like to make—be it a traditional dish or some new fusion street food thing he tried at a stall downtown—and run the kitchen for the afternoon. Aside from getting to use his managerial skills, it was nice to make tasty food with a friend while they joked and gossiped. He always learned something new about Air Nomad culture while he was at it, too. Pema really knows her stuff.
As to your final point, I don't think he actually lost much muscle, even when he was out of shape. He lost a lot of stamina, sure, but muscle doesn't get replaced with fat, it gets covered up. It's like with athletes who get injured or take a season off. They may pack on fat, but if they've spent years building up a certain physique, it takes a lot longer than a few months to lose it all. (Unless they rely on performance enhancers and stop taking those, too.) So in seasons two and three, he's just a naturally buff guy with some extra on top.
Thank you for the last paragraph because that is what I had in my mind but I couldn't put into words properly like I agree I agree.
Yep I agree with all of it including the Pema and Bumi bromance like you cannot tell me Tenzin doesn't see the two of them giggling together and immediately starts to recount everything even remotely embarrassing he's done in his life.
#tragic how they made bumi skinnier in s4 but from a production pov it makes sense to fit him in a preexisting model used for many characters #he is always very buff in my head
"HEY TENZIN WANNA SEE ME TAKE OFF MY WINGSUIT WITHOUT UNZIPPING IT???" "No?"
Since I made it up? I dunno, I like the idea. I doubt they'll go that direction in canon (unless they HIRE ME to make some damn COMICS)
Rohan being an airbender is boring to me. It's totally expected, practically makes the kid a non-entity. It's much more interesting to make him something else and explore what that means for the family dynamic. That (likely) means non-bender or waterbender, though earthbender is a possibility since Pema's from the Earth Kingdom. I'm just going to assume that Katara wasn't bullshitting when she touched Pema's preggo belly in the very first episode and said the baby would be a bender. She just got the element wrong. It was a safe bet!
First off, it'd raise some questions about how bending is passed down. Based on what we've seen in canon, it's easy to assume that a bender only passes down their own element to their offspring, with it either manifesting or staying dormant, possibly for multiple generations. But what if it's more complicated than that? Tenzin may style himself as Mr. #1 Air Nomad, but his mother's element and culture are part of him, too, right? With the different nations intermarrying more than ever before, it creates the potential for any type of bending to pop up in any part of the world, which has many fun worldbuilding implications. It'd also make a lot of sense, considering how the new airbenders pop up the way they do. They may all have had airbenders somewhere in their ancestry, with that potential lying dormant for centuries or even millennia until it was finally activated by Harmonic Convergence. I know this isn't a groundbreaking fan theory, but whatever.
Anyway, back to Rohan.
The discovery that Rohan's a waterbender would be a surprise, maybe even a shock, and it'd give the Kataang clan a new point of conflict and introspection, particularly for Tenzin. He'd have to grapple with his kneejerk reaction being denial, followed by disappointment. Then comes the doubt...
Why does he suddenly feel more distant from Rohan? He reviews his own interactions with the boy, both before and after the discovery. Does he treat him differently now? Should he? Of course he doesn't love his son any less, but it changes their relationship, or seems like it must. Is it fair to bring him up like an Air Nomad, the way his siblings were raised? Would it be better to introduce him to more Water Tribe traditions? He realizes how little he valued his mother's culture compared to his father's. It's not that he doesn't care, but...
Is this how Aang felt about Bumi and Kya, before he was born? How did he come to terms with that? Did he feel this same ache? And knowing now how alienated Bumi and Kya felt from their Air Nomad heritage for so long, how can he stop himself from making the same mistakes? What does this mean for the future of his people? Can Rohan be an Air Nomad but not a member of the Air Nation? Is such a thing possible?
He sees himself reflected in his son's innocent, trusting eyes, his own expression one of confusion and fear. He's lost again. Nothing in his readings of Air Nomad wisdom or his memories of Aang tell him what he should do, and he's too ashamed to admit his conflicted feelings.
Finally, Tenzin's head explodes.
Plus, hey, it's a great excuse to bring Auntie Kya around for lots of fun waterbending lessons! Both she and Bumi get to say "toldja so" to Tenzin once he admits his struggle over his relationship with Rohan and what that made him finally truly understand about their childhoods, about what it meant for all three of them to be children of the last airbender.
Meanwhile, Rohan's just being this precocious kid—a lot like his sister Jinora—inventing whole new ways of bending water like it's no big deal, and all the adults are too tied up in knots to even notice. His siblings notice, though, and help him figure himself out. He's a true Cloudbaby, a perfect cinnamon roll.
In the end, they do work it all out, and the whole family is closer than ever before... until Meelo announces he's joining the United Forces and all hell breaks loose.
I'm of the belief that Bumi has a big sweet tooth, which is one of the big reasons why he gained so much weight after retirement. Sweets are normally contraband in the United Forces, and while Bumi could smuggle in his own supply as a high-ranking officer, he still had to be sneaky about it and indulge sparingly to make it last. After retirement, he had unfettered access to sweets for months, and he went a little nuts, partially out of boredom. Once his broken arm healed and he started focusing on his airbending training, the weight fell off as quickly as he gained it.
I've thought too much about this, clearly.
Apologies if my response doesn't make sense I'm very sick and doped up on three different medicines, but yes I agree with this a lot.
I feel like with the fact that he was probably just hanging around with the kids and trying his hand at fun hobbies he did earlier as only for a short while, I can definitely see him snacking with the kids a lot without realising. He and Ikki painting? Yeah he's got a plate of sweets and he's popping one into her mouth and one into his. Oops how did they finish it that quickly though?
Also as a guy who goes to the gym regularly (or used to, till November), it's rather easy to build back muscle when you've been working for all your life (which Bumi has, also taller people have to work for a VERY long time before getting proper muscles so woo. Damn Bumi), so I can see how he quickly goes back to muscles.
First off, I'm sorry to hear you're still not feeling well. Get lots of rest, and I'm sure it'll pass soon!
I definitely see the snacking with the niblings thing happening—since he's such a fun uncle, after all—but I also think he gave himself lots of excuses to go get sweets on his own.
Out exploring his old Republic City stomping grounds, and there's a new ice cream parlor? Why the hell not? He's retired. He's earned it! And he has to keep going back until he's tried every flavor, even the durian.
It's pretty chilly tonight! Better make some hot cocoa, topped with a generous amount of whipped cream.
Going out for a nice dinner? Sure, he'll have dessert. Actually, both of those options look great, so double dessert it is!
Not allowed to carry a flask of alcohol around? Fine, he'll fill it with fruit drops instead.
Smells like Pema's been making cookies! He's sure she won't mind if he helps himself to a handful, or two.
For the last one, I imagine that happened often enough once he moved back to Air Temple Island that Pema got pretty annoyed with him. Instead of telling him off, she agreed to make extra sweets if he agreed to help her in the kitchen, which seemed like a fair trade to him. Some traditional Air Nomad recipes require airbending to get just right, so once his abilities manifested, he became her go-to guy to try them out. Tenzin's hopeless in the kitchen, and the only one of her kids who really took to cooking was Rohan, who turned out to be a waterbender. A few of the new airbenders eventually started helping, too, but none of them with Bumi's zeal and talent for organizing chaos.
His adventures in Air Nomad cuisine started with the sweets and steadily expanded from there, so by season four, he wouldn't hesitate to wander into the kitchen and offer to help if he saw her and the other Acolytes cooking. Sometimes he'd even get his own ideas of food he'd like to make—be it a traditional dish or some new fusion street food thing he tried at a stall downtown—and run the kitchen for the afternoon. Aside from getting to use his managerial skills, it was nice to make tasty food with a friend while they joked and gossiped. He always learned something new about Air Nomad culture while he was at it, too. Pema really knows her stuff.
As to your final point, I don't think he actually lost much muscle, even when he was out of shape. He lost a lot of stamina, sure, but muscle doesn't get replaced with fat, it gets covered up. It's like with athletes who get injured or take a season off. They may pack on fat, but if they've spent years building up a certain physique, it takes a lot longer than a few months to lose it all. (Unless they rely on performance enhancers and stop taking those, too.) So in seasons two and three, he's just a naturally buff guy with some extra on top.
If Bumi weren't in the UF what fo you think he'd do with his life?
Probably in jail after too many petty crimes add up.
Jokes aside, if he wasn't in the United Forces I think he'd be rather aimless in life for at least a while. Would somehow struggle through a degree and get it, and then not work in the same field.
He would either get a job in a zoo, or as a musician. He's not a bad singer and he's certainly not bad with animals, but ultimately he would just inwardly want to do something which keeps the world safe, and hence not much job satisfaction.
He never really gets a direction for his life, and after he gets airbending he kind of devotes himself to search and rescue missions, to keep even a single person safe.
Adding this after I typed out the whole post lol: SOCIAL SERVICES! Bumi would like to work in NGOs and stuff in places that are rather backwards and behind because of the war, which ultimately means not Republic City. He probably tells older people that his dad is the Avatar and listens very patiently when they recount stories of the war and how the Avatar helped them.
It's a very fulfilling job and I can see him doing that for a very long time.
As friends of convenience go, Heng and Solongo are alright. They buddied up in Bumi’s class just this week, a trio of misfits. Heng, the ex-Terra Triad bruiser. Solongo, the aging Zaofu socialite. And plain ol’ Hana.
It reminds her of elementary school, when every student just socialized with the classmates they sat closest to. But her two fellow novitiates are friendly and close enough to her age to have a decent conversation. Her only complaint is Heng and Solongo’s flirting, which has really ramped up the past couple of days. She’s played the third wheel enough times to know it’s not for her.
The three of them are leaving the dining hall one evening when Bum-Ju appears right in front of them, which is normal behavior for most spirits but not for him. Solongo’s busy giggling at something Heng just said, so Hana’s the first one to notice the spirit’s frantic gesturing.
“Something wrong?” Bum-Ju nods, followed by a series of chirps and trills. He stops when she holds her hands up. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Can you just—” And off he goes, a cyan streak down a nearby footpath. Without a word, Hana follows, using her gust-skipping technique to pick up speed.
It’s as dark as the bottom of a well when she catches up, at a spot on the path far away from any lamps and beneath trees that block the moonlight. With only Bum-Ju’s gentle glow to rely on, she doesn’t see Bumi at first. He yelps when she bumps into him.
“Oh, sorry!”
“Whozzat?” As her eyes adjust, she sees him doubled over, hands braced on his knees with his butt in the air. It’d be hilarious, if not for the pain he’s obviously in. His legs are trembling with it.
“It’s, uh, Hana.” She hears two sets of footsteps close behind. “Solongo and Heng should be here in a sec.” She’d worry about them tripping in the dark, but unsurprisingly, most airbenders are good at avoiding that.
“Aw, c-crap.”
She crouches down, close enough to make out his clenched jaw and sweaty brow. “Are you hurt?”
“M’back.”
“Chirrrup!”
“Not helping, Bum-Ju,” he snarls through gritted teeth.
“Oh, what’s happened?” asks Solongo as she steps into the light.
“Was pettin’ a baby lemur,” explains Bumi, miserably. “Threw my b-back out.”
“Wow, a baby?!” says Hana, like an idiot.
“It ran away.”
“Oh.”
Hana stands back up as Heng steps forward. He takes one of Bumi’s hands and says, “Okay, teach, let’s go.”
“N-n-no, not not not— Ssss!”
“You’re hurting him!” says Solongo.
“I’m helping! We can’t just leave him here.”
Hana places a hand on Bumi’s lower back and understands. Whatever the problem’s root cause may be, the muscles there are spasming something fierce. Trying to walk him to safety will be torture if he can’t relax. “It’s okay,” she reassures him, moving her hand lower. She pokes her thumb and forefinger into a pair of pressure points near the base of his spine. There’s a subtle click, like releasing a clasp.
Bumi groans and eases himself upright, to Heng and Solongo’s surprise. After his miraculous recovery, he protests as they all escort him to the dining hall, but they still do it. Anyway, it’s not like they can see where they’re going without Bum-Ju.
“Well, you can say you rescued an old man for your nightly chores, if anybody asks,” says Bumi as he eases onto an outdoor bench. Bum-Ju immediately settles on his lap. As Hana and Solongo sit to either side of him, he scoops the little spirit up in one arm and cradles him, rubbing his fuzzy little belly with a thumb. “Thanks for the reinforcements, buddy,” he whispers. Bum-Ju purrs back, which Hana finds both adorable and slightly uncanny.
“Oh, but helping you isn’t a chore,” says Solongo.
“Yeah, and you’re not old,” adds Hana.
Heng gives a little huff. “Don’t argue with the man.” Standing over them with his arms crossed, he exudes a macho confidence that reminds Hana of her dad, and she likes him a lot less all of a sudden.
Bumi squints up at him and says, “It’s fine, Heng. We’re all friends here.” Then he turns to Hana. “And you’re sweet, kid, but I know what I am.”
While she has no intention to argue, Hana can’t bring herself to think of Bumi as old in the “elderly” sense. He’s much older than she is, obviously, but she’s never met anyone else even half as full of life. In the brief time she’s known him, he’s always approached every day as a shiny new opportunity, like a little boy. How could such an exuberant, happy-go-lucky person ever get old?
“Y’know, when I was a young man, I never got sick or tired or hurt, aside from some scrapes and bruises,” says Bumi. “Maybe it’s all finally catchin’ up to me.” He scratches a sideburn, and Hana watches his expression go soft and wistful. “Did you guys ever hear about the time I trained to be a commando in the United Forces?”
All three of them shake their heads, and Hana grins because it’s about to be Bumi Story Time.
“Well, this was when I was maybe 21. Lemme tell ya, I was a piss poor soldier. Sloppy. Mouthy. A little crazy. Probably the main reason I didn’t get discharged is a couple of my stunts made my squad look real good. And I could make the staff sergeant laugh. That guy loved some slapstick.”
“So you were, what, the mascot?” asks Hana. Then she covers her mouth, suddenly sure that was a very rude thing to say.
Bumi just smiles. “Heh. Not far off.”
Solongo chimes in, “Would they really have discharged the Avatar’s son?”
Heng shifts his weight impatiently, but keeps his thoughts to himself.
“Avatar’s son? Who, me? Nah, I was some nobody named Bato Watermoon.”
Hana snorts into her hand. “Wait, wait,” she can’t help but interject, “you lied to the military?”
“Hey, I didn’t want any special treatment!” Bumi flutters his free hand for emphasis, bending a tiny gust that ruffles his hair. “Anyway, the commando thing. I heard about it from this one gal in another squad, since she was applying. Thought it could be my calling, or something I could at least be good at. There was some… other stuff, too. Not important. But getting away from my old squad sounded pretty sweet.”
Hana makes a mental note to ask about the other stuff sometime.
“Gave me a physical as part of the application. I’d had normal check-ups every year, but this was something else. They were really insistent on checking my butt for some reason. Must’ve liked what they saw, since I passed with flying colors. I think it got me fast-tracked ‘cuz I was outta there in a couple of weeks. Got sent to this special training camp that made boot camp look like a tickle party. Barely had time to think between the psych tests, teamwork exercises, contests, physical trials, and more medical check-ups. Over a month of that, just to see if we were up to snuff. Only half of us made it to orientation, and then Hell in a Handbasket.”
“Wh—” Hana shakes her head, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, what? Handbasket?”
“S’what we called it. The real training. Everybody who made it through orientation got shipped to another, specialer camp and put in units. It was just, ugh… months of the most grueling crap, with a team of psychos chewin’ us out the whole time.” Bumi grimaces at the memory, then perks back up. “But I kicked ass! I really went for it, just to see if I could. I maybe wasn’t so good at memorizing protocol, but I got top marks in every practice run. By the end, they had us running on a few hours of sleep a night. There was a lotta mindless marathoning. Swimming, jogging, rock climbing, y’know. All in full uniform. But we executed full mock missions, too. I don’t actually remember a lot of it… Pretty sure if I tried it now, I’d just keel over and die. One guy almost did!”
Bumi pauses for dramatic effect, glancing around at the three novitiates hanging on his every word. Hana’s sure she sees his eyes actually twinkle.
“Yeah, this guy Vo. He was in a different unit, but we were doing the same trial that day. Deep sea diving. Water colder than milk from a witch’s tit! Hah! I’d finished, so I was taking a breather when he came up. He was barely moving, so they had to drag him to shore. I watched him throw up what must’ve been a gallon of bloody phlegm. A full gallon, at least! I swear!”
“That’s simply awful,” says Solongo.
“Yeah. It was. Yeah. It got everywhere.” He shudders. “Everywhere.”
“But he was okay?” asks Hana.
“He didn’t die.” Bumi shrugs. “But he was dropped from the program. And so… for the next swimming trial, I swallowed a buncha seawater, bit the inside of my cheek open, and got myself dropped, too.” He sticks his tongue in his cheek and swirls it around, waiting for their reaction.
“You took a dive,” says Hana flatly.
“Ah, wordplay! I like it. 17 points.”
“You quit?” asks Heng. He looks genuinely confused. “But you were the best.”
“Yeah? And it turned me into a miserable asshole. I got so focused on being on top that I didn’t care about everyone else struggling to keep up. I had to see a guy almost die to understand how bad it actually was. No, I got scooped up by the rangers instead. Good thing, too.”
“You could’ve been a great commando, though.”
“I, uh… dunno about that. By that point, I’d figured out I wasn’t a killer. Could never work up a bloodlust, or go in cold, even. ‘Cuz that’s what a commando does. When they get sent in, it’s because someone up top decided it was time for bad people to die.”
“So you never killed anyone?” asks Heng in a tone bordering on the incredulous. Hana almost tells him to shut up, but she’s curious, too.
Bumi’s expression doesn’t actually change, but the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth seem to deepen. Maybe it’s just the moonlight.
“…Not on purpose.”
Lying awake that night in her hard, hard bed, Hana plays the scene back in her mind again and again. Maybe she’s looking for something, some precious clue in the story or the way he told it. But a clue to what?
Had things gone a little differently, that strange man she’s become so fond of could’ve made a career as a killer. Instead, he chose peace. Whatever darker things he may have seen and done in his life, that’s still worth something.
“Your dad must’ve been so proud of you,” she whispers, wishing she’d said it to him for real.
can we assume that the Prime Meridian in the atla universe goes through the Northern Water Tribe capital? and thats why all the in universe maps look the way they do?
it'd make sense if maybe the Water Tribe(s) was instrumental in standardizing maps.. I have always gotten the impression that they'd be good navigators... especially if it was a joint venture with the South, whose capital is ALSO suspiciously close to the center of the map... this of course opens up a whole other can of worms re: atla time zones...
I definitely think navigation would be the Water Tribe's forte. For example, the NWT utilizes Polynesian multi-hull ships; this implies they had a golden age of sea travel that happened long before industrialized colonization, paralleling the real-life history of Polynesia. Similarly, Inuit and other arctic peoples kept close track of the stars for hunting and navigation purposes.
I can definitely see the Water Tribe contributing much to the ATLAverse's world of cartography, creating particularly detailed star maps.
I think both the Water Tribe and the Air Nomads would've had robust traditions of mapping the land and the sky. Maybe they'd trade notes, or maybe they worked independently of each other. The Air Nomads were apparently pretty isolated for most of their history, so it'd make sense that the Water Tribe would work from their own observations. That would be a shame, since it means the work of the Air Nomads was likely lost in the genocide.
I like to imagine an ancient Air Nomad astronomer coaxing their bison to hover at the very edge of the atmosphere. Nomad temples were prime stargazing spots, but without telescopes, you could only pick out certain details from the threshold of the void, in deepest darkness. Even protected by their own bubble of warm, breathable air, they'd only have a few minutes to make their observations before the chill forced them back to earth. Of course, any Water Tribe astronomer along for the ride would chastise them for not wearing a sensible fur cloak, but no one ever accused an Air Nomad of being practical.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Courtesy of a really terrible week, I found the ~inspiration~ to write more Bumi smut. It was originally going to be another bonus chapter for Tangled in Red, but it just got too long. IT IS VERY EXPLICIT FYI, but it’s like half non-smut (banter, worldbuilding, lovey-dovey fluff) because that’s just how my brain works.
As of this post, 2 out of 4 chapters are up, but the rest will be available within the next week.
In this one, Bumi and Hana can’t find the guaranteed privacy they need to get freaky, so they act like adults and get a hotel room.
**********
“Here we are,” says the porter. He sets down their bags, pulls out a keyring, and unlocks a door in a few snappy movements. “The Kalluk Suite… One moment, please.” He snatches their bags back up and scurries ahead one last time to deposit them on the threshold at the end of the entryway.
The three of them then perform a polite little dance to get out of each other’s way in these cramped quarters, ending with the porter half-bowing in the doorway, cleverly positioned so that they’d have trouble closing the door on him if they tried.
“We hope you’ll find the accommodations to your liking, sir.”
Hana leans against her big strong boyfriend and grins. “Aw, I’m sure it’ll be great. Right, Bumi?”
“Oh yeah.” He laughs and kisses her on top of her head, as giddy as she is to enjoy some quality time together.
The porter leans forward almost imperceptibly. “Dinner will be served at 7 o’clock. Is there anything else I can do for you…?”
“I think we’re all set, thanks,” says Bumi as he reaches into his coat and pulls out a billfold. He licks his thumb and counts out 500 yuans in crisp, pink notes, which disappear into the porter’s jacket as soon as Bumi holds them out. Hana stares, unsure what she just witnessed, until the porter meets her gaze. His expression is what she could only describe as a simper. It’s unsettling on his smooth, chinless face.
Oh, that was a tip. That’s a thing people do. Hana blushes when she realizes tipping didn’t even occur to her. Bumi seems happy enough cough up the cash, at least. She’s the one who got them a free night at a swanky hotel. If he wants to even the score, he can feel free to try.
“Have a good night,” says Bumi with a small nod.
The porter snaps into a deep bow, then back up again. “Good night, sir,” he says brightly. His eyes flick over to Hana, then back to Bumi, before he smirks and says, in a slightly lower tone, “Enjoy.”
The door closes swiftly behind him and locks with a solid clack.
Hana waits a few moments before she turns the deadbolt and says, “I think that guy might’ve been a creep.”
Bumi looks over from where he’s hanging his coat. “A creep? Nah, he probably just thought y—” She sees panic flash across his face, and he looks away again, mouth clamped shut.
“He thought what? And don’t say ‘nothing’.”
Bumi sighs. “Ah… He mighta thought you were a… a good-time girl.”
Hana snorts with laughter. “A what? You mean a sex worker?”
“Not necessarily,” he says with a shrug. “I know some officers’ll show off around town just to find a warm, eager body for a night or a weekend. I mean, not that I ever did, but that’s kinda what this looks like.”
“It’s fine if you did. I won’t be mad.”
“I didn’t!”
“Okay, okay…”
Bumi leans against the wall, tugs on his left boot, and frowns when it doesn’t seem to budge. The boots are a shiny, dark brown leather, and she’s only seen him in them—along with the rest of this dressy uniform—once before. He probably wears them so rarely they’ve never been properly broken in.
“Why’re you so dressed-up, anyway?” she asks, hanging her jacket next to his coat.
Bumi straightens up. “Don’tcha think it looks handsome?”
Hana feels herself smirk. “You’re always handsome, Bumi.”
“Heh…” He blushes like a teenage boy at his first dance. “Sure, but… it’s an extra layer of handsome, right? Double-ply?” His face gets redder, and he shakes his head as he sits on the step to pull his boots off. “Hey, you’re the one wearin’ a dress.”
It’s true. She is.
“Not that I’m—” His left boot releases his foot with a quiet voop. “Not that I’m complainin’. You look pretty. Uh, sexy. Pretty sexy.”
“Maybe I’m just lookin’ for a good time…” she whispers as she runs her fingers through his hair. He shivers all the way up to his scalp.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Finally, a new chapter, and it's not a novella this time.
As she trots up, rubbing juice from her face, Hana doesn’t see any customers, just an old man and a young woman fighting behind the counter like a demented puppet show. At least, that’s what she assumes when she sees the woman—with short cropped hair so uneven she must’ve done it herself over the bathroom sink—smacking the flailing man on the face with a rolled up magazine. Then she sees the tiny spirits buzzing in a furious cloud around his head.
“Augh! There’s one in my ear!” The woman swings back her arm as far as she can in cramped quarters and smacks him on the side of the head. The man yelps and collapses, barely holding himself up with one gangly arm slung over the countertop. Newspapers tumble onto the pavement.
“Grampa! I’m sorry!” With a pained expression, she leans in and seems about to swat him again, but backs off. “It’s not helping!”
The grandfather lets loose a blistering string of obscenities that seems to further agitate the spirits. They don’t seem fully dark, just pissed.
“Uh.”
The two of them freeze and glare at Hana, who realizes she’s just been staring like an idiot this whole time instead of helping. With no water or salt at the ready, she has to improvise. Over the edge of the countertop, the old man’s eyes go wide when Hana reaches for her fan. It opens with a loud, satisfying ZAK.
Before anything else, she twists it in the air, letting the midday sun glint off its blades. Then she holds a vision of clear running water in her mind and waves the fan, slowly, above and around the man’s head, at least the part she can reach. Calmer now, the spirits drift up in a lazy swarm, which Hana circles and scoops toward her.
“Shhh, it’s okay…” If she were any good at whistling, she’d try that, but speaking gently is nearly as effective. The spirits seem to shed the last hint of negative tension, and she gets a good look at them in their natural state, like silvery one-eyed cuttlefish. That’s a type she’s never seen before, but the Spirit Wilds must be full of exotic species. She grins at the thought.
Hana lifts up her fan and softly blows the spirits into the sky, where they shimmer out of sight. “Go in peace, little guys.”
Still grinning, she hooks the fan back onto her belt loop and tries to remember what she was just doing.
“Did you see that, Grampa?!”
“A saw a bald girl with a muddy face banish a hundred tiny demons, if that’s what ya mean.”
Bonus chapter of "Tangled in Red"! (That metaphysical smutfic with Bumi and my OC.)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: Explicit (No Archive Warnings Apply)
Words: 9,992
Setting: Republic City, 176 AG (post-canon)
Now for a snippet~!
Very quickly, it became undeniable that there was a new link between them, so thick it felt like he could almost grab it in his hands.
He can’t, obviously, but Hana can.
He can feel it right now, a joyful rush while they huddle together in an alcove on Air Temple Island, immune to the chill of the courtyard. While Lucky, Hana’s young dragon-horse, gnaws on a flagstone she yanked out of a walking path somewhere, the lovers conspire silently. Bumi runs his fingers through her hair and gazes deep into her eyes, which a slightly removed part of himself knows must make him look like the most lovesick dope who’s ever lived, but who’s he trying to impress? Every brush of his skin against hers is a sigh.
“It should be safe, now that it—” Her moving mouth draws him in, and he cuts her off with a shallow sloppy kiss that dissolves into a fumble of lips and steam. She braces the sides of his face with her hands and wrestles back a bit of breathing room. “Do you wanna hear the plan, or not?”
“Yeah… Sorry…”
“No, you’re not,” she says with a smirk. “But I was about to say, now that it’s past lunchtime, my place should be free and clear. Until lunchtime tomorrow.”
“Hope it won’t cause too much trouble shooing everyone off.”
“Nah. I mean, they can do a lot of the work at home. Now that we’ve passed the trial stage, we’re in the middle of reviewing applications for the first stage of the real-ass housing project, so most of them took a box to compare notes on tomorrow.”
“Y’know, I probably don’t say it enough, but I think it’s amazing what you’re doing with all that. Using that penthouse for an office, even.”
Hana gives a little half-shrug. “What’s the point of having nouveau riche real estate tycoons for parents if you can’t leverage it into something useful?” Her hands slip down his neck and over the chest of his wingsuit. “Not terribly conducive to privacy, though.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Bumi puts his hands over hers and mushes their foreheads together.
“Mmmm, so I can call a water taxi—”
“Why don’t we just fly?”
“Ah…” Hana turns to look at the pony-sized dragon-horse, now curled around the stolen flagstone. “I don’t trust Lucky to be able to carry me back. You didn’t see, but she was really struggling on the way here. I know a good taxi service, if I can just get to a phone. They handle dock transfers and everything.”
“Well, make it quick. I got jizz leakin’ outta my ears over here.”
“EW!” Hana whirls back on him and swats his arm in mock disgust.
He guffaws, surprised by his own volume, and pretends to rub a freshly bruised bicep. That was kinda sexy, actually. Maybe they could try—
“What was that?” chirps a voice from above. Bumi’s niece Ikki lands daintily next to Lucky and leans over to stroke the sleepy thing’s downy mane.
Horrified at what the kid—no matter how old she gets, always a kid to him—almost overheard, Bumi flinches. Both Ikki and Hana smile at him serenely, expectantly. “Oh! Uh, I just said… Golly wizz, over the years out here, it’s been… great!”
Hana’s grin widens. “I love you.”
“Awww!” says Ikki. Then she giggles, a sound like tinkling bells, and adds, “And I thought you said something dirty!”
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