cabbagesforall | LoK AU: Hero-Verse [Open to All! Let's build this verse!]

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korra[au]

LoK AU: Hero-Verse [Open to All! Let's build this verse!]

Legend of Korra: Hero-Verse

The Setting: Republic City, in another place, and a few years ahead of where it normally is...

Once, a long time ago, a normal world gifted the world with something known as Bending - a very rare power to use one's own energy to manipulate the elements. There were many who feared these powers, which came together in him - so he took on a mask and the name of Avatar, becoming a masked hero.

As centuries, and then millennia passed, the mysterious hero's mantle was passed on from generation to generation through reincarnation, someone chosen from each of the Four Nations in turn and from among the very rare ranks of those with the ability to bend the elements.

Flash forward to Republic City, circa the 1930s. For the first time, those who distrust the powers of the benders believe that technology will come to replace them. As the city towers higher and higher, and technological achievement rises even further, it looks like the hero known as Avatar may become obsolete; and there are many sinister forces who are eager to make that tomorrow into today.

Meanwhile, some Benders have taken up mantles of their own - both for good and for ill, while others seek to hide their powers, existing every day with perfectly normal jobs. In the increasingly Art Deco city, there is room for absolutely everyone - and challenges around every corner.

As President Raiko takes an increasingly anti-bending stance, the stage is set for conflicts, challenges, and opportunities to simply erupt...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

In this incarnation, much like The Phantom, the mantle of 'Avatar' is passed down from generation to generation. The costume changes, as does the personality, but the core remains the same - a simple oath to protect those who need protection, and to keep the world in balance, safe from the perils of the dark. Trained by a knowledgeable mentor, the secrets have been maintained a long, long time - but so many want to find them out.

And it's a lot harder from a girl fresh from the Polar sticks, as it were, just trying to make her way in the big city. While by night she's a mighty hero, mild-mannered Korra is, in daylight, just like anybody else. She takes her responsibilities seriously, but she also wants to be a normal, every-day girl living in the city and all its lights. In her years of secret training, after all, nobody told her about dancing and the pictures...

She's even found somewhere to live - an apartment in the basement of her new job at the city's biggest newspaper - where she works as the janitor. Everybody wonders how she gets the whole building sparkling like she does, but gosh it's easy to clean those floors when you can waterbend.

Edited 2021-03-02 23:51 (UTC)

Wu's working late, something he hates doing, but he got some amazing shots that he needs to get processed before the run tomorrow. He's just finished in the dark room, hanging up the last of his photos, before he heads out into the office to collect his things when he spots her, the janitor who really shouldn't be a janitor.

He tells her as much, "what's a dame like you doing working a job like this?"

If there's one thing she hates? It's the "dames". Not the concept - ok, maybe that - but being called one. It's right up there with 'kid' as guaranteed to put her back up a little bit. Her instinct is to round on him with a 'listen here, buster...' but mild-mannered Korra doesn't do things like that.

Things like that attract suspicion. So she makes a show of fumbling her broom, looking over at him.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

And she's glad she does, in the moment. Those photographs look interesting as all get out.

Wu's lips quirk in a smile and he waves a hand.

"You're too pretty to be mopping floors! A girl like you? You should be in the papers," he takes a step back, holding up his fingers like a picture frame, centering her in them. "The right clothes, a nice background. No mop, you'd look hotsy-totsy."

Not that Wu does fashion photography, but he would if he could. One thing he loves almost as much as benders is fashion, and he can just imagine a gorgeous gown draping off of this woman.

She looks down at the overalls she's wearing, then back up at him, adjusting the kerchief she's wearing on her head. Despite herself, she blushes, just a little bit. Geez, the boys here really do move fast. Her parents had warned her about that.

"What," she said, with a slight giggle, "even is hotsy-totsy?"

"Hotsy-totsy! The cat's pajamas! Aces! You know," He laughs, dropping his arms. "Really, even in that getup, you look great! Would you want to do a photoshoot? If we got them in any rags, I'd give you a cut."

"I..."

The idea of a cut is tempting. The newspaper is footing her rent - mainly because she's living in the building - but it didn't exactly pay well besides. And, she also has to admit, the fame component of it isn't...repulsive.

She blushed, though, shaking her head.

"Nobody wants to see me in magazines. You want somebody like...like Ginger, or someone. You could flatter your way in there."

Wu loves benders. He loves everything about them. Sure, he's a non-bender, and he's supposed to be suspicious of benders and everything they represent, but he can't help himself. They're just so cool. They can bend elements like it's no one's business, and so many of them are just trying to do good in the world! Wu has been enamored with them ever since he was a kid, enshrouded in the riches of his family, old money built on the non-bender world.

He was supposed to follow in his father's footsteps and work for the family company, Hou-Ting Inc, but he was never very interested in business. So, with the family credit account and his expensive camera, Wu managed to get a job with the paper under a pseudonym: Wu Ting (not the most imaginative name, but, hey, who would think that the son of the most prolific anti-bending family would want to photograph benders for a living?).

He works his days at the paper, and spends his nights on the town, eating at the best restaurants and rubbing elbows with the rich and famous of Republic City, but all he wants to do is meet a bender, a real bender. Maybe even one of the heroes who he photographs for a living.

"Hey, Wu," Mako calls as he heads around the corner, on-edge. "You have to keep up if you want the shot. She could show up any minute. You want a blurry picture of her leaving?"

Mako is, maybe, on-edge. This is the biggest lead they've gotten in a while—a place where Avatar's been spotted more than once, possibly coming and going—and he's never worked with this photographer before. Mako needs this story. The pressure's getting intense to break something on Avatar and every reporter at the RC Daily is trying to get the scoop. Mako's rent is due soon and he's gotten exactly squat, which means he's gotta break this or go hustle doing street tricks or something again and he'd really rather not.

So: he's out, following a source he hopes no one else has (thank you, Skoochy, for being easy to bribe but very observant) with a photographer who seems more interested in being his friend than doing his job. Dusk has fallen quietly around them, and there's not a soul in sight except for a few raccooncrows cawing softly on the looming edges of the buildings they're slipping between.

Mako, as a rule, is bad at keeping secrets.

He's been told he has an honest face, has worked most of his life to try and change that but has never managed it.

Which is really a shame, because he has a big secret to keep. He throws himself into his work to avoid thinking about it, and that mostly works except when his work intersects with what he's trying to hide. It happens more and more these days. In his beginning days as a reporter on the beat, he'd mostly covered crime, the doings of various Triads in the city, the kind of sensational stuff that sold papers and got eyeballs on pages, but ever since Avatar showed up in the city he's been covering more and more of her stuff, and that's dangerous, especially since his boss told him to try and figure out who exactly is behind that mask. His work is getting a little too close to home.

Still, he gets the stories because he's good at what he does, and he likes the work. Mako knows there are stories out there no one is telling, voices that aren't being heard, and he doesn't have delusions of grandeur or anything like that but he'd like to make a difference and get paid doing it. He likes being good at things.

Who cares if, technically, he's a bender?

Nobody needs to know that. All they have to see is Mako, reporter, trying just like everyone else to get a byline and a bit of notoriety.

[Wrong time, wrong place, but since it's an AU I thought I could just AU him in. Hope this is okay!]

What was a generally law-abiding tea shop proprietor to do when he overheard some of his patrons plotting something that did not sound at all law-abiding?

As a suspected firebender, Iroh had a small record with the police, not enough to interfere with his business so far -- it was so nice when those with power saw the reason of his situation, helped along by a few free cups of tea and pastries -- but enough that he knew it wasn't wise to draw attention to himself. Therefore, he'd decided not to bring the matter to the authorities. Since he couldn't simply stand by, he would just have to handle it himself.

First step, check the archives at the newspaper. He thought he remembered seeing a picture of one of his suspects in the paper...a year ago? Two? Long enough that the memory was dim, and by the time he emerged into the atrium of the newspaper building his eyes were smarting from peering at so many pictures and smudged print, but he was clutching a sheaf of notes that he thought would help him.

It was careless of him not to notice that the floor of the lobby was wet, hurrying forward in his eagerness to get back to his tea shop and mull over what he'd found over a nice cup of tea... But he slipped, tripped, fell forward, windmilling into save on one knee at the last moment, instead of flopping like a beached whaleturtle. "Oooff," Iroh said.

And, "My notes!" The papers had scattered and one particularly unruly piece had skimmed across the room all the way to the door.

She had just been getting to that particular wet lobby, her last bit of business for the night, when she saw Iroh and his little incident. She tossed down her mop, making a run for that last paper.

"I got it!" she called, chasing it down and snatching it before it landed in a puddle. She herself nearly toppled into a potted plant at the door. She awkwardly extricated herself, holding it high.

"I did get it!" she beamed. It was funny, really. Get her out of her costume as the Avatar, and she was often just that clumsy. But it helped, in the end. Then she looked at the paper, off-handedly, to make sure it was dry...and saw the archival stamp.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, looking at Iroh.

"I've never seen you working here before."

((OOC: I instantly had an idea, so it's a GREAT AU))

Iroh regained his feet as Korra made her run, and beamed back at her. "Thank you! I would hate to have to find this information all over again, although I'm afraid I've completely lost the clever ordering of the pages."

He took the setback with equanimity, shuffling forward and stooping to pick up a clump of papers, smoothing them out, and proceeding to the next, noting the order as he went and rearranging some of them.

"I only come here when I have a problem to research," Iroh said, shaking his head sorrowfully. He frowned at the last wet page on the floor, then carefully peeled it up. He'd have to wait until he was home to dry it out.

Reaching the end of the trail of papers, he looked at Korra again. "You must have the page with the floor plan and description of the bank that was robbed two years ago. Such an interesting case, don't you think? Never solved."

She made a show of studying the paper, so as not to let her disappointment show. Oh, she remembered. She'd just been starting out then, and hadn't gotten anywhere with solving it. Her abject failure to do so had made her question whether or not she was qualified for her role at all.

"No, it wasn't," she replied, frowning at the paper. She looked up at him again. "Are you trying to solve it? Like...a hobby or something?"

"Investigating cold cases sounds like a fascinating hobby," Iroh said sincerely. "It's not mine, but now I wonder if there's any chance that someone has already looked into this. I'll have to ask my friend in the archive the next time I see her. Or perhaps I should ask around in my neighborhood..."

Absently, he tucked most of the papers under his arm, reserving the dampest paper to wave in the air in front of his face while he looked aside and pondered. A few seconds lost in thought, unobtrusively blowing warm air -- certainly no visible fire -- at the paper. Then he recalled Korra and shrugged at her apologetically.

"But you wanted to know why I was looking into this old crime, and the others." He fluttered the paper in his hand, dense with only slightly blurred notes. "It's actually a long story... I guess you could say that I'm looking into a mystery that arrived in my tea shop a few days ago.

"What about you? You seem interested in old crimes as well."

"Oh, yeah, umm, well," she rubbed the back of her head, suddenly feeling flustered. Most people barely even thought about her, in her usual guise.

"I work the janitorial shift here, at the paper. And I kinda sometimes end up in the archive section and just read a bit, you know?"

But then, belatedly, part of what he says makes it through.

"But you said something happened at your tea shop?"

Iroh wasn't sure why Korra was uncomfortable. "It must be a good job to have if you like to read," he said. "So much to learn." He left it at that, and, since the paper he'd been drying out was now dry enough not to damage the others, he tucked it away along with them.

He drew a deep breath, ready to wax loquacious on the subject of his tea shop. Even the minor events there were of endless interest to him, and he'd been going over this particular incident in his mind ever since it happened, and after his research, he had a few extra things to fit in.

"It was a bright sunny day, you probably remember how blue the sky was two days ago--" He checked Korra to see if she made any indication that she did. "And the tea shop was just about as busy as it ever gets. So when two men asked me for a table by the window --"

He paused and pulled out with a flourish a page on which he'd traced the outline of two featureless faces, one broad and topped with the hat of a gentleman, one narrow and shifty, even just in outline. Lower on the page there was a street map with several locations marked and one circled and labeled "the house".

"I had to tell them, quite truthfully--"

A woman pushed through the door they were standing by, letting in a gust of wind and damp air. It appeared, however, that the rain had ended. She gave the two of them a harried look and headed for the staircase. Iroh paused again, thrown out of the story by the sight of the outdoors. "To make a long story short, I now believe that I was talking to the men the newspaper calls 'the delicate earthbender' and 'the shabby gentleman'. Quite an event for my little tea shop, I hope no one ever finds out the kind of clientele I serve there."

She nodded, enthusiastically, with an "mm-hmm," when he looked to her, hands folded in front of her abdomen.

She gives the woman a little wave. Someone in the typing pool, she thinks? Must be some mistakes to fix, tonight. Seems like it's going around, really.

"I don't think anybody would hold it against you!" she replied, with a slight smile. "I mean, it's a tea shop, not a den of...scheming, or whatever."

She paused, tilting her head.

"Which tea shop?"

"These days, it's hard to be sure," Iroh said darkly with a little shake of his head.

He'd been reminded of time passing by the sight of the outdoors.

"Are you done with that?" he asked Korra politely; she was still holding the paper she'd rescued. "I'm afraid I've just remembered that I have something to do on the way home, that needs to be done before it gets too late." He planned to check out the scenes of a few crimes, if only from the outside. "But if you ever want some tea, you should come by the tea shop. The Jasmine Dragon. You can try the new variety that just came in, on the house."

He mentioned an address in a neighborhood near the city center, known for a maze of winding streets and varied inhabitants, rich and poor of all nations. "Ask anyone in the neighborhood, they'll tell you how to get there," he said proudly. His tea shop had quickly become well known.

"Oh, right! Sorry!" she said, handing it back over.

The offer, though, made her smile. "Jasmine Dragon. I'll definitely stop by. I could never say no to a good cup of tea."

Though she had...a feeling about this one. Maybe it was one of those instincts the Avatar had, finally kicking in. The ones Tenzin always told her about. She determined to follow him, out of sight, once he left. Quick change into her costume, then onto the rooftops...something was tingling in her mind, and she wasn't going to let him do this alone.

"I won't detain you, then," she said, waving. "It was nice meeting you."

"And you!" Iroh said, giving Korra a solemn half-bow, an old-fashioned gesture. "Thank you for your help."

He left the newspaper building, and moving at a steady pace, soon arrived in an area of the city that was filled with smaller businesses and a little light industry, with some housing on the higher floors. From there, he wandered, easy enough to follow because his pace was always measured, but hard to predict because his path seemed, at least at first, completely random, and he seemed interested in everything he passed.

Although he'd walked across the city without pausing, he stopped to catch his breath in front of a warehouse, waiting until no one was nearby -- though he didn't think to examine the rooftops -- before climbing up a fire escape, more nimble than one might expect from a man of his girth. A few seconds later, a bright stream of fire, sent in through an open window, temporarily lit up the inside of the warehouse. Whatever was illuminated inside by the brief flash caused him some consternation; he returned to the street muttering to himself.

After entering some alleys that had been encroached upon by the people in the buildings to either side so much that they were impassible, and several times having to turn around and go a different way, Iroh seemed to hit a streak of luck and worked his way through to a main street. He stopped in front of a clothing establishment: a large business selling a variety of clothing and tailoring services, now closed. Across the street, where Iroh directed his attention, there were two large houses with a large wall between them. Lower walls separated the houses from the surrounding streets.

Iroh stood fiddling with his shoe and adjusting his clothing and looking at the information posted on the outside of the clothing establishment for a long time, then circled the pair of houses a couple of times without incident or revelation. One of the houses was brightly lit, the other dark. Iroh seemed more tempted by the brightly lit house, but in the end went away without doing anything. At least, without doing anything this night.

[If you will indulge me in a little choose your own adventure, to my mind there are a few places this could go from here which I'd enjoy writing. Visit the tea shop (and probably talk to Zuko), come by the houses Iroh showed interest in (this is where Iroh will be tomorrow), or investigate the warehouse for a run-in with a crook. Or decide Iroh's just an old man with an overactive imagination and a penchant for random walks and move on, I suppose, in which case this has been lovely and thank you.]

She practically skidded around the corner, she was running so fast. Down into her little apartment under the newspaper offices, already throwing off clothing before the door even clicked shut. Her blue costume as Avatar was far more freeing than the janitorial clothing she wore, or even the deliberately dowdy dresses she tended to choose when out of them. Ugh, awful.

But once in costume, well - she felt so much more free - even as she used the old forgotten dumbwaiter shaft to ascend up to the roof, pulling the blue mask over her face as she exited at a run.

Now to follow the kind old man - who did not strike her as the sort to let something go. Either he had a strong sense of morality, or was a busybody...and she very much suspected the former. The latter sort generally just went with assumptions. And were terrible.

Which was how she discovered that the man was a firebender - and by the looks of it one of considerable skill. Interesting indeed. She made a few notes to herself at each stop, and shadowed him all the way to the houses. It looked to her like he was on the trail of the criminals that had escaped her - and she was thrilled to get another chance at them.

After Iroh left, the lights went out in two different shifts, all of the downstairs lights in the first go, and about a hour later the two lit upstairs windows went dark, about ten minutes apart. Nothing further happened until morning, when there was some activity in the back of the house, a couple of servants getting ready for the day. There was no visible activity in the second house.

Iroh arrived back on the scene fairly early, while the streets were still filled with early morning deliveries, before any but the most dedicated of the small business owners or employees had stepped out of their homes.

He was feeling cheerful, because he'd left his tea shop in the hands of his nephew, and he had an optimistic feeling that his nephew was up to the task, leaving him free to spend the day on this affair without worry.

Without too much worry. And in any case, no matter what happened he was confident in his ability to handle it once he got back. The tea shop was resilient, that's what was important, not the events of a single day.

He'd dressed in clothing that was much shabbier than what he'd been wearing the night before, and had a straw hat to shade his head, and he carried a horn in a soft case. He set himself up on the street corner, arranged the case in front of him, and started busking as the streets got busier in the morning rush.

From where he was, he could keep an eye on any activity in either of the houses, though he had a better view of the occupied house.

By the time morning came around? She was getting tired of the stake-out portion of the show, as it were? She kept an eye on him still, resting on a rooftop, head in her hand. She'd been hoping for some sudden action before now, and this much patience was still not exactly her strongest suit.

But it had been instructive - showing how a distinctive and distinguished older man could become someone completely different - she wished she could pick his brain about that sort of thing, which she was very bad at outside of her secret identity. She also had to admire how well he'd picked his spot. He blended into the rising background noise of the city, but was perfectly situated to keep an eye on things.

She was definitely learning a lot from this - though she rather hoped she'd get to employ her other skills soon.

After the morning rush passed, Iroh reseeded the case with a few coins while making the rest disappear. He continued playing a little longer, a few lively tunes for the passersby and then to finish off, a slow, melancholy piece. Not the sort of thing to get attention; he let his eyes drift downward, caught up in the music for the few minutes he played.

When he looked up, he was startled to see that a car had pulled up in front of the occupied house. He hadn't expected anything nearly so soon. Working quickly, he packed up his horn and crossed the street just in time to see "the shabby gentleman" exiting the car and entering through the gate.

He went around to the back, and knocked on the door to ask for a glass of water, and made it inside almost as quickly as the shabby gentleman did, him in the kitchen and the "gentleman" in the parlor.

A few minutes later, part of the wall between the two houses collapsed, shaking the house enough that Iroh paused in the story he was telling the cook. Another few seconds, and the house shook again, even harder. "Not again!" the cook said, setting down her bowl and rushing toward a door that proved to open into the cellar.

Iroh, left alone, headed for the parlor, where he could hear someone speaking in a threatening tone.

Korra - the Hero known as "Avatar"

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Wu - the intrepid photographer

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Mako—the reporter with something to hide

Iroh - the tea shop proprietor with a problem

*eagerly slams in here*

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I love that you even referenced choose your own adventure, let alone the choices.

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eagerly slams in here