[ Look on the bright side. There's a connected bathroom they can still use if nature calls. And with the window half-open, Hei can tie a cord around one of Korra's baskets and lower it so that potential delivery guys can nestle a bucket of fried chicken and a few bottles of beer inside. All in all it's not too bad. A glass half-full. ]
[ Yeah right. ]
[ He ignores both Mako and Korra, his brain unscrolling a full ream of things he has no intention of saying aloud, Instead, plucking his Network device from the nightstand, he sends the necessary texts to Pai, informing his sister (with a strict degree of self-censorship) of his circumstances, cancelling a rendezvous with an informant in the Underground, briefing Yin to keep a specter on watch for Pai in his absence, and in general rearranging his schedule to accommodate the City, which at the moment is looking remarkably like a meddlesome yet surprisingly filthy-minded yenta. ]
[ Seven hours. He lifts one hand to massage his pounding temples. His gaze flits with a dull interest from Korra to Mako. Seven hours with a couple of kids. If it were Korra and himself, it'd be a different matter. There are a dozen ways -- satisfying, inventive -- to keep themselves occupied. Mako is another story. Not a rival, exactly. But not someone he should let his guard down around, either. He's not going to toss the kid an olive branch and invite him to play a game of checkers to pass the time. ]
[ Eventually, to Korra, who is thumping her head against the closet, ]
Giving yourself a concussion won't help. [ A beat, ] Or it might. If it knocks you out.
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Date: 2014-10-23 02:41 am (UTC)[ Yeah right. ]
[ He ignores both Mako and Korra, his brain unscrolling a full ream of things he has no intention of saying aloud, Instead, plucking his Network device from the nightstand, he sends the necessary texts to Pai, informing his sister (with a strict degree of self-censorship) of his circumstances, cancelling a rendezvous with an informant in the Underground, briefing Yin to keep a specter on watch for Pai in his absence, and in general rearranging his schedule to accommodate the City, which at the moment is looking remarkably like a meddlesome yet surprisingly filthy-minded yenta. ]
[ Seven hours. He lifts one hand to massage his pounding temples. His gaze flits with a dull interest from Korra to Mako. Seven hours with a couple of kids. If it were Korra and himself, it'd be a different matter. There are a dozen ways -- satisfying, inventive -- to keep themselves occupied. Mako is another story. Not a rival, exactly. But not someone he should let his guard down around, either. He's not going to toss the kid an olive branch and invite him to play a game of checkers to pass the time. ]
[ Eventually, to Korra, who is thumping her head against the closet, ]
Giving yourself a concussion won't help. [ A beat, ] Or it might. If it knocks you out.
[ Such a sparkling conversationalist. ]