tushanshu_logs | Catch-all for October

Chewing some of the food and breaking it down, Korra was able to speak quite clearly now even though her cheeks were still a bit full.

"I said ‘Draw Jim.’" Sipping from her juice box, food still in mouth, she added "And eat something before your stomach starts growling."

He hadn’t been there that long and the breakroom was completely clean and the trash bins had been emptied. Meaning he either ate somewhere else or didn’t eat at all.

From what she could gather of Kyle’s dedication to usually being a stick-in-the-mud, Korra was going with the latter.

There's a thought. Kyle didn't particularly want to, he was worried about drawing people he knew because he would agonise over even the simplest sketch, if he didn't immediately have an idea in mind.

His train of thought derails at her order (Was it? It felt like one) and he gives her a reproachful look. 'You're not my real mom,' he says, grumpily, making it clear he's just teasing, and offering a self-deprecating smile. 'Don't tell me what to do.'

"Don't make me get the polar bear dog."

She's so serious that she has to stuff the other half of her sandwich in her mouth to keep from smiling.

Kyle, however, is utterly failing at keeping the grin off his face. 'I'd like to see you try.'

That, as goofy as they were being, was a challenge. Managing to swallow the entire mouthful, which stings her throat, Korra brought her fingers to her mouth and let out a loud whistle that echoes off the walls.

A rhythmical thumping sound can be heard that gradually gets louder and eventually covers up the sound of her slurping the last of her juice.

In her head, she began counting down until slobbery Naga kisses would find Kyle's face.

It doesn't take long for a large - oh God was that a polar bear? - white blur to enter the room and overwhelm a certain Lantern, who very quickly ends up on the floor, laughing uncontrollably, as he unsuccessfully attempts to fend her off. Kyle adores pets, and once Naga's done introducing herself he scratches her behind the ear.

'Okay,' he says, between a few chuckles, 'First? Not everything I say is a challenge. That was a joke.'

Korra simply rolled onto her side and took her precious time letting Naga get out all the attention she had pent up from being in her person den outside the clinic.

"And so's this" she said wryly before she finally sat up. "That's enough Naga, let him breath." At that, the giant animal sat down and sat up to he full height; tail wagging.

"But food isn't. Take it from the girl who's tribe mainly relies on catching their food."

He gives her one final, grateful pat on the head before there's a brief flash of green light, and he's clear of slobber and dirt. Sitting down, he puts his feet up on the table, matching Korra's posture. All of a sudden it's not difficult for him to imagine why Jim overidentifies with her.

'All right,' he says, 'I'll eat when I'm done. Think you can recommend a good noodle shop?'

Glad at her personal victory over Kyle’s stomach, Korra summoned Naga to her side with a simple pat to her leg.

"Oh, there’s plenty of good ones. But if you want the best of the best, then you’ll have to go to the Water Sector. You can’t beat hand made noodles, and it’s really affordable." That one shop was one Korra frequented and bought some home to use in her own meals.

"Art first though." After a few moments of her looking at the blank sketch pad, she abruptly began laughing and nudged Naga’s face away with her feet so the polar bear dog would stop licking them. Rubbing her feet dry on the animal’s fur, she propped them onto her back and leaned into the couch.

All that came to her mind when she thought of art was the statues of some members of the first Team Avatar that were around the city.

"Self-portrait?"

He makes a mental note of the location she mentions. While he'd originally been assigned to Water Sector upon his arrival, he hadn't spent much time there since Connor'd vanished. It was a good place to live, thankfully freer of gangs than Fire Sector. He could take the kedan in a hand-to-hand fight, if it came to that, but he preferred not to.

Staring at the blank sketch pad, he shrugs. Why not? He hadn't done a self-portrait in a while, and while the request was pushy enough to make him irritable, he's more concerned about a potential artist's block.

He starts scribbling, and the self-portrait takes shape. He went for stylised, so it could be finished faster, but he never sacrifices accuracy.

Naga’s ears flick at the sound of pen scratching on paper and Korra assembles the trash from her snack bag to throw away. Once done, she scoots forward until she’s stop Naga’s back and then slides down onto the floor. The angle only lets her see the very top corner of the page and nothing of what’s he’s drawn so far.

"You don’t have dimples." She criticized jokingly.

He usually gets so absorbed in his work that he shuts out everything else, but Naga is near his feet and he's drawn to the warmth. Rubbing his nose, he continues, and looks up when Korra speaks.

'Should I?'

"Depends. One if you don’t smile a whole lot and two if you do." That sounded about right as far as art went, at least to her. What little she knew of it.

Putting her hands up behind her head, Korra looked up at the ceiling. "Who cleans this place anyway?" Not once did she see any kind of janitor doing maintenance, but there were never cobwebs or dust.

He shrugs, he'd never considered whether he had dimples or not - it was a product of not liking mirrors, much, and trying to smile in them felt weird.

'I do,' he says, in answer. 'I can just think the place clean. Easier and faster than hiring somebody to do it.' A pause. 'Good trait for a man to have,' he adds, jokingly. 'Helping around the house.'

"I wouldn’t mind that. You do house calls?" Half joke. Bending was awesome, but even it couldn’t make a place completely spotless.

The floor’s way too hard and there was a furry, fluffy white friend to be on, so Korra stood up and just climbed onto Naga’s back. Once there she laid on her stomach, her feet and back easing after the long day she had.

"Jack told me you posted on the network after- all that." She put her arms around Naga’s neck and the animal gave an appreciative grunt. That was something she kept forgetting about, mostly on purpose, but now it seemed a lot more important.

So is stealing a glimpse at the drawing.

He tilts his head, indicating he'll think about it, and focuses his attention on finishing the sketch as quickly as possible. He doesn't have paint and he usually takes short breaks, but he's a perfectionist, and a self-portrait is a challenge to draw. He only registers Korra's moving, and almost doesn't hear the question.

Then he does, and he stops, momentarily, purses his lips. Yes, he had made an announcement, and kept Korra out of it as much as he could, out of honour. (Sometimes, he wondered why he even bothered with it, he'd had everything else beaten out of him.)

'Yeah,' he says, slowly, after a heavy silence has lapsed. 'What about it?'

Korra waited a few moments, biding them by scratching Naga’s ears, and then she finally said "You didn’t tell what I did." After that whole ordeal, Korra avoided the network and never went back to see what kind of controversy that caused.

"So, thanks. For- keeping it simple." When she stopped scratching, Naga lowered her head back onto the floor by Kyle’s shoes. Laying on Naga like a bump on a log, Korra folded her hands under her cheek.

"Some people could have really taken advantage of the situation." Not only her being unconscious, but what happened, how it started. Had this happened at Amon’s clinic, she knew that when she woke up, it wouldn’t have been safely in Jack’s suite with the Winter Spirit comforting her.

'No,' he says, 'I didn't.' It was the honourable thing to do.

He nods briefly, and returns to his drawing. She was aware of the situation, and that was that.

She was fairly positive if it was her having to post on the network back then, with the emotional state she was in, the video wouldn’t have been a nice one. That thought made shift, uncomfortably enough to make Naga turn her head to look.

"Thanks for getting Jack to pick me up." She wasn’t sure about why the Lantern chose to contact him to pick her up. Back then she was a good acquaintance of Jim’s, but they weren’t as close friends as they were now.

'No problem,' he says, a little bored, and having no idea what she intends with this line of conversation. He'd picked Jack because that was someone they had in common, he wouldn't have let just anyone come and pick her up.

He finishes his sketch and signs it, before holding it up beside his head, glad they can move on to something else. 'How does it look?'

It looks just like him, of course, except Kyle hasn't drawn himself smiling for a long time; the portrait looks quiet, and serious.

"You forgot to smile for the picture."

Totally being a brat and she it.

"Wait, is that how you think you smile?" She reached down and put her fingers at either end of Naga’s mouth and brought them up.

"More like this."

Kyle attempts a smile, but it looks crooked, he doesn't feel it. Instead, he pouts. 'Maybe some other time.'

Naga loudly licked her chops after Korra let go. "Sorry, I’m not that great at judging art. It’s never been a thing for me. I mean, bending’s easy. You just picture what you want and move from there to make it happen. But, the whole using one hand to draw or paint."

She shrugged unhelpfully.

"Never had time to learn it."

Kyle shrugs. 'Main difference: art's always better in your head than it is on paper. Something always gets lost in between, so nothing's perfect, or exactly the way you want it to be. You just keep going until you get something you're happy with, and people like seeing.'

He doesn't mention he's rarely happy with what comes out, on paper. His perfectionist tendencies already infuse his duties; it translates even to leisure.

"So, you’re done because you’re happy with it." Simple enough. "But you know what I mean, right? Like if you use your ring, then you can just picture it in your head and it just goes from there."

A beat.

"Doesn’t it?"

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