cyclicality | Open to all! Dated before the barrier goes funny.

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Open to all! Dated before the barrier goes funny.

The girl making her way through the city probably wasn't anyone's image of Toph Bei Fong, and certainly not the image of the statue standing near the police station. She was small, verging on scrawny (an effect compounded by oversized clothing), face marked with at least a couple of layers of dirt. In that clothing, her features obscured, she might even have been taken for a boy -- were it not for the heavy braid trailing down her back.

Frankly, Toph didn't mind the whole arrangement. The makeshift disguise let her explore the city pretty much as she pleased -- or at least the parts she was currently interested in seeing. No one paid much attention to a street urchin, and there were some benefits to being blind; it tended to make others look away, and by the time they thought something of a blind girl wandering around the city by herself, Toph was gone.

So far, she had a good thing going, except for the lack of idol worship.

((ooc: Pick a setting option. Feel free to pose in with whatever your character is doing in that area, and I'll pose back off of you with whatever Toph is up to. Glad to work out anything in advance -- just PM me or poke me on Plurk!))

A. Toph is in the less well-off parts of town, taking stock of the area and probably noting the triads with interest. You might even catch her at a scam. (Hey, new place, money is necessary, and she has to test the limits.)

B. Up near the bending arena. Maybe it's just a practice day; maybe there's a game going on. She's just as likely to come either time. It's enough like Earth Rumble that she'll be interested.

C. Taking a break somewhere in the city (though likely not in the upper class districts). The satomobile vibrations are still a little rough on her, and a girl's gotta eat.

D. Wildcard -- have an idea? Poke me on PM or Plurk!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's a fine line for Toph between appreciation for and rejection of being tricked. She can appreciate the ones who earn it -- the ones who fish outside the box and succeed. To her that shows intelligence . . . and frankly, some guts.

Toph appreciates both intelligence and guts.

A small smirk emerges, and as the wood chip strikes the ground, she reaches to gather it back up, easily picking it out of the dirt.

"You're right; I didn't."

She'd heard there were other airbenders in the city, but it's still startling to her. She's lived in a world where airbenders have been extinct for a hundred years, where Aang is the only bender of the medium she's ever known.

And this one may be worth getting to know.

"I'll tell you what," she proffers, tucking the chip away, "I won, but I'll still buy you lunch."

Bumi wipes his brow with the back of one hand.

"Well that all kind of depends on which pocket you choose, doesn't it."

That smirk. He knows that smirk. Where does he know that smirk from?!

Her eyebrow rises as though he's leveraged a challenge at her. "Well, then, like I said, I guess you'd better hope I pick one with money, or you're eating dirt."

Hand stretching outward, palm exposed, she's still for a moment. If Bumi is extremely attentive, he may feel small bits of metal in his pockets quiver in response, barely enough to register. Under normal circumstances, she would have asked him where they were -- but she's showing off, just a little. Besides, she's already given him at least one strong hint that she's more than she appears . . . and that was not by accident.

"There." Her fingers reach forward, stretch up (how do these people get so tall, anyway?) to a pocket hidden to the side, under his jacket. "That one."

She already knows it's a good choice.

Bumi's pockets are a treasure trove of random bits and bobs, a side effect of many things including, but not limited to: living among four small children, his own short and excitable attention span, and a history of finding use for random things at equally random times.

Having said that, there are some items he has on him at all times:

- A pocket sized leather folio containing photographs of his family
- A Fire Nation dagger
- A small metal flute given to him by his father
- A metal money clip commemorating his 45th year of service in the UF.

It's the last three of these that react the most strongly when the girl in question is making her choice of pocket.

His eyes follow the path from her finger to his pocket, and then reaches in for the moneyclip.

"Good choice." Which it is, because Bumi does not travel light. There's not a whole lot to spend money on when one's room, board, and clothing budget is covered. It's one of the reasons that Bumi doesn't feel a whole lot of loss as he tosses the large wad of bills over to the girl. And he does toss it, just to put the last nail in the coffin of her being a metalbender.

"So, where are you taking me? Or should I make a suggestion, as I'm willing to also wager you're new in town."

The catch is . . . not the most graceful catch in the history of ever, because she's not used to catching anything. It takes some hand-to-eye coordination she never developed. But it is a catch, and her fingers run approvingly over the stack of yuan. (Though why did the monetary system have to go to paper? She's going to have to make Zuko count it later.)

At his statement, her shoulders lift. "Actually, I don't have a preference. Food is food, as long as it's not tofu."

Added as an afterthought, tucking the bills away after the chip, "Yin, by the way."

Because while he's interesting, she's not ready to give him who she is. Yet.

"Nice to meet you, Yin. The name's Bumi," he says as he once again takes up his packages. "Eelhound's not far from here, and what they lack in decor they more than make up for in atmosphere. Plus Jin's wife makes some of the best Artic Hen stew this side of the Southern Water Tribe."

As he's leaving he tosses a coin from another pocket onto the counter of the stall that was nice enough to hold his stuff for him.

"For your troubles," he adds as he turns and walks away. He's kind of trusting Yin to follow him.

Bumi. The name is familiar somehow, but she can't think from where -- and since it doesn't set off any alarm bells in her head, she puts it aside. Readily she trails after him, now and then breaking into a light trot to keep up with his long legs. Stupid tall people.

Edited 2014-11-12 18:12 (UTC)

He turns back to make sure she's still there, and can't help but smile when he sees her trotting behind. Soon enough they're at the Eelhound, and there's a brief moment where Bumi needs to readjust what he's carrying so he can get door for Yin.

Always open a door for a lady, his mother told him.
Always open a door for other women too, his uncle would add, and then a few seconds a swat from his mother would follow.

The proprieter, a grizzled man named Jin, stands behind the counter. The wooden club the man usually keeps concealed behind the bar is now displayed on top of it, a sure sign that things haven't been easy since the city closed off.

"Jin," Bumi greets the man with a grin.

"Chong," Jin replies in kind.

"You got room?

Jin looks about the room. The empty room, and then deadpans, "No."

Toph falls into the "other women" category, and is completely fine with that. As he opens the door for her, she hesitates for a moment just for that reason. She's not a lady, and she doesn't need the help. It especially seems stupid that he's messing around with that when he's got a lot to carry already.

But Iroh's words sound in her head: I poured your tea because I wanted to, and not for any other reason.

For that reason alone, she lets him, slipping inside.

Obviously she can't see the place -- not in the way Bumi can -- but she can certainly smell it. It's one of those places that has its own built-in aroma: Years of food and sweat and alcohol and the faint, heady residue of human and animal urine. Her nose lifts, taking the place in as she attempts to guess what's actually cooking. She finds she is a little hungry after all.

Meanwhile, Chong. A snort escapes.

Yeah, he caught that snort, Yin. Chong was a formative name in his development. Bumi's lost count of the number of times he's heard the "Secret Tunnel" story, and not just because the song itself was one of his sister's favorites growing up.

Though that helped.

Bumi can't help but choose the table in the back corner of the room, furthest from the door...but with the best view of the entire bar. The floors of the bar are wooden, so he's mindful to walk in a straight line, and loudly enough so that she should have no problem following.

"What's good today, Jin? Any of that Artic Hen stew?"
His voice shifts, as he addresses Yin.

"Seriously, this stuff is so good that I'd almost say it's better than my own mother's, but even I'm not that crazy."

. . . Not liking the wooden floors. At all. He might notice that she sticks a bit closer, and her demeanor shifts -- not relaxed, not casual, but upright, almost hesitant, one foot after another as slowly as she dares without losing him. He's making her trust him, and plainly although she's going along with it, she's not at ease in a place she can't see, in an environment she doesn't know. As her knees pump lightly into the bench, she feels out briefly and takes a seat, though her head shifts with every new sound.

Her eyebrow rises again at the joke. "Your mom is Water Tribe, then?"

"I'll see what we've got left in the kitchen," says Jin as he leaves the room.

Bumi thanks him and then turns his attention towards Yin.

"Nice catch, and yeah she is. Southern Water Tribe, she'd likely want me to point out. I don't suppose you've ever been, not a whole lot of exposed earth to see with there."

"Nope." Toph scuffed the ball of her foot across the floor, swinging it gently. The contact with the floor was habit -- reassuring, even though it actually didn't provide the sight it normally would. "Do I look like I've got chance to go frolicking off for a tourist trip to Frozen Land? Knew a couple people who came from down there, though."

One ear is kept on the movements of Jin. Though Toph is mostly assured that she can take care of herself, she did just follow a stranger to a restaurant with a wood floor.

The other ear is on Bumi. . . . Small talk. Her mother always tried to teach her the art, but it had never been natural to Toph. Who wanted to talk about the weather and cow hippo farming? It was boring.

"So . . . you from around here, or down there?"

It was a start.

"Well you're new here, so it only stands to reason that you came here from somewhere else," he says as he leans back in his chair, resting his head against the wall.

"Little bit of both, actually. I was born there because my mother wanted to be near her gran-gran, but my father's work kind of took us all over. Then when I became of age I joined the military and my work took me all over. Republic City is where my brother and his family call home, so for the time being it's where I call home too.

How about you? What's your story? How'd you end up on the streets scamming old men for their pocket change?"

"Didn't say I was new," she pointed out. A small flicker of a smirk. "I've been around a little longer than you think. But yeah, I wasn't born here, and I wouldn't call it home."

Her fingers run along the grain of the table's wood, absently tracing out the pattern. "In terms of being on the streets . . . that's pretty much what happens when you're not old enough to earn money. Unless somehow you've got a name for yourself, nobody trusts you to do anything. And most of the people I hit can either afford it or got it illegally themselves."

In other words, no particular remorse.

It's true, she didn't say she was new, but...a metalbender grifting people on the streets of Republic City without Lin Bei Fong hearing about it? Not likely. Not likely at all. So it's Bumi's guess that she's a refugee from outside the city dragged here kicking and screaming just like he was.

Which is odd seeing as he was here, just not now here.
But...whatever.

"Oh? So which of those two groups do I fall into?"

Ah, but no one said she'd been hustling the whole time, either, which she gladly would have pointed out.

She considered his question a moment, feet lightly kicking outward again. "Probably the first one. Though I'm not completely ruling out the second. You seem decent, but I bet you don't do everything by the rules."

An eyebrow rises. "Do you plan on reporting me to the police?"

"Hadn't really considered it, to be honest. Figure they've got bigger things to worry about than a street urchin trying to make ends meet."

It's at this point that Jin emerges from the kitchen with two bowls and a bamboo basket steamer.

"You're in luck, this is the last of the Arctic Hen, and we've got fresh bao."

The bamboo basket gets put in the center of the table, while the bowls are placed before both Bumi and Yin.

"I've the kettle on for tea, unless you'd prefer something stronger."

"Nah, not today. I've got to set a good example," Bumi says with a grin. Jin just laughs and returns to his place at the bar, nearest his cudgel.

"What makes you think I came by my...correction, your riches illegally?"

"Probably the fact that she's met you," Jin says offhandedly.

Edited 2014-11-14 00:55 (UTC)

Toph snickered in approval. "I like him." At the smell of food, her stomach rumbled again, insistent, and immediately she reached out for a bao, following the memory of the sound of it being placed on the table. Managing to snag the edge of the basket, she tugged it toward herself, raiding the trove inside.

"But actually, it's kind of true. If you were the sort who followed the rules exactly, you wouldn't have bet like you did in the first place -- or tried to twist it back. So you're the sort of person who gambles . . . and the sort that tries to make sure the odds are in his favor. But if you actually got this wad illegally? Don't know."

The bao was a bit hot, and she juggled it between her fingers, blowing on it.

"No one's asking you, Jin," Bumi calls over his shoulder. Jin just waves away Bumi's input and then reaches for a paper. There's a puzzle in the back he hasn't finished yet.

"And you," he focuses his voice to Yin. "Don't encourage him."

Bumi waits until Yin has her roll before he snags one for himself.
He chews as he listens and considers her words as he does both.

"Can't say as I disagree with any of that. You're pretty astute for a kid, anyone ever tell you that? Though...for the record, I did come by my money honestly. And actually, that reminds me: Think I could get the money clip back. It was a gift."

She snorted in response at his "astute for a kid" comment, taking a big, meaty bite of her bao before reaching into her clothes for the clip. (None of these ladylike bites. They only prevented you from enjoying the full flavor of something rolling around in your mouth.) Tugging the clip from the roll of yuan, she offered it to him.

"I do a lot of listening. You pick up stuff." (Yes, she was talking with her mouth mostly full.) "So what do you do to be loaded?"

Bumi floats his bao in his stew and then wipes his hand on his pant-leg before taking back the clip.

"Good skill to have, listening."

When she asks about his work, he looks wistfully at the clip before stowing it back into his pocket.

"I retired. I think they might have even sweetened my stipend just to make sure I stayed gone."

"You were that bad?" Another large bite -- this one permitting her words to be muffled as she chewed. Hm. Probably should have dunked it in the bowl first; it was a little much. "What'd you do?"

"I was a Commander in the Military. Over forty years of service, but far fewer at actually following orders. How's the stew? Good right?"

Yeah, he was going to get a bit of a spittake for that one. Crumbs danced across the tabletop. "Commander? Seriously?"

They would get back to the stew.

Open to all! Dated before the barrier goes funny.

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