Rachel, 20 year old college student and dedicated Avatar: the Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra fan.
I mostly talk to people and reblog craploads of things. I sometimes write fic or make gifs/graphics. I comment extensively in my tags, and I am prone to headcanon about anything and everything.
I adore worldbuilding, families, and jerkbenders. Commentary and character analyses are my true loves.
Summary: Mako learns that an Avatar’s gotta do what an Avatar’s gotta do.
Rating: T because it’s noir; swears and drinks and other stuff.
Notes: Late again, but I think this is how the entire week is going to play out for me. I love how everyone’s noir fics turned out, so I hope mine does the prompt justice. This is soooo long, much longer than what I usually write and what I actually intended, but I hope you enjoy!
Coat buttoned. Check.
Shoes shined. Check.
Mako instinctively reached for the familiar red cloth, patting around his neck absentmindedly, but was dismayed to find it missing. He cursed at his own idiocy as he remembered that he couldn’t wear it tonight, even though tonight was when he needed it most. In its stead was a red and black striped tie that was loosely knotted around his neck. It felt more like a noose, amplifying his nerves and providing none of the support and safety that his father’s scarf offered, but the occasion called for it.
Hanging out in shady places of Republic City at night was a hazard, and he should’ve been used to it by now. The buildings in the heart of the city’s darkest district were barely lit and crawling with smoke, and that was what he lived and breathed for all of his life. Mako grew up on the streets, so he sure as hell could tackle them for the job. He spent six years on the force, one and a half of those undercover; he’d been to bars seedier than this hole in the wall, and they provided stronger alcohol and more scantily clad women than this one (which clearly indicated its status in the Triads’ books). But this time it was different.