[Tag: Min]

Only within the last few years had Asami earned the privilege of wandering through Republic City on her own, despite having grown up there, and she reveled in the independence. Not content to remain locked away in the Sato family mansion, it was common for the girl to be seen weaving through the crowds either on foot or aboard what she fancied to be her trusty steed (though what most considered to be merely a scooter). Today, she was on foot. Her driver had dropped her off earlier that morning, and she was happy to browse through the local shops until it was time to return to their designated meeting point in order to be brought home for dinner. Surprisingly, she had yet to purchase anything. Her coin purse, tucked safely away inside her jacket, jingled softly with yuans craving to be spent; not so loudly as to draw attention, of course. Asami was many things, but never a fool.

Currently, her attention had been drawn to an elegantly crafted phonograph on display in a shop window. It was a beautiful machine: the base was smooth and clean, and someone had very clearly spent a great deal of time paying loving, detailed attention to every curve and edge. There were even a few designs carved delicately into the wood, allowing it to stand out from the rest of the phonographs. The brass horn shone brightly in the reflecting sunlight, almost blindingly so. If they didn't already have a lovely phonograph sitting at home, Asami would have considered purchasing this one. Perhaps she would anyway. The Sato mansion was, after all, considerably larger than the average place of residence. One phonograph didn't even begin to flood the entire structure with music. Still, Asami resisted. If she purchased it now, she would have to carry it with her for several hours. She could think on it and come back later if she decided that she wanted to bring it home. She took a step away from the glass window, a small section of which was now slightly fogged by her breath.

Asami turned to face the rest of the street. She was far from the only one out today. As usual, the roads of Republic City were as alive as any of the beings walking through them. A few people stood to chat with one another, shopkeepers hollered out exaggerated descriptions of their goods, and in their effort to cross to a shop across the road from them, several brave souls weaved through the Satomobiles rumbling down the street. Asami's boots clicked rhythmically against the ground as she continued down the sidewalk. Through the people rushing past her like a river on either side, she could see a small gathering not far away. Immediately, her curiosity was piqued. Her dark hair lifted slightly away from her back as she walked, and Asami uttered a "pardon me" every few seconds when someone seemed in a particular hurry to push past her.

Upon drawing closer to the crowd, she found herself scowling. She had hoped to find something interesting, but instead she found herself staring at a poster of the expressionless mask that seemed to be appearing more and more frequently around Republic City. She should have known that the only thing that could draw such attention would be Equalist propaganda.

A small company had gathered around the poster across the way, talking restlessly amongst themselves. The street itself was so teeming with people that to observe them Min needed to stand tip-toe on doorstep. The group was, from what Min could see, quite the amalgam. Two teenage boys, dark haired and skinned, grimy from the factory. A middle aged couple, hands clasped tight, also of the working class. Two adults aged beyond their 25 or so years by work. And finally an older lady who distinguished herself among the middle class by the relative cleanness of her clothes. Though there was certainly some nuances in their respective attitudes - the teenage boys more eager, the couple more apprehensive - the prevailing mood of the gathering seemed one of anxiety. Logical - the sign played on their tensions. In declaring that non-benders were repressors, it instilled a subtle sense of fear - if benders were repressive, could they themselves be prosecuted for even reading the sign?

An ideal crowd for recruiting. Min adjusted the strap of her messager bag, filled now with a handful of pamphlets on top of her work documents and speech drafts. She had come from her job only an hour before, stopping briefly at home to snatch an apple and change into a more nondescript outfit; brown tights, a navy jacket over a black tunic, and a flat cap. It was important not to stand out amongst her targets, in addition to not being recognized as government worker, hence the cap. Readied, Min darted across the street as agile as minnow, integrating with the group.

"You see that poster?" She said, exuding calmness and amenity with the sound of her voice and open body language. The better to calm their nerves and earn their trust with. "It's the second we've put up - a fire-bender incinerated the first." She continued, motioning to the scorch marks scarring the wall where the previous poster had been. And that Min had simultaneous identified herself as an Equalist (in this demographic, so straightforward and wary, it was essential not to be unctuous or simpering or deceptive) and drew in the teenagers with her daring, humble tone. To the group, Min and by extension the Equalists were a group who weren't afraid to take action, even when threatened.

And with this Min began her process of recruiting, establishing herself as both a friend and an activist, offering personal anecdotes and receiving some in turn:

"What causes wars?" She said, "What causes crime, or abuse - abuse - of any sort, physical, economic." And here she paused, "An imbalance in power. And what is the most pervasive, discriminatory, divisive imbalance of power in our world? Bending."

"Yeah! That's right, remember, honey? When we tried to move to a better apartment in our building, or even to have the same utilities?" The husband of the couple spoke up, looking around and pausing for dramatic effect, "The landlord passed us over every time for that damned earthbender, just because he could repair everything with a flick of his hand."

Continuing her role as facilitator-energizer-recruiter, Min nodded eagerly (subliminally encouraging, she knew, the less enthused to become more involved) with the others, pleased that quite a few in the group were responding so well.

"You two are brothers, right? Who's the oldest?" The shorter of the two nodded, pleased Min had taken the care discern their relationship. In actuality, she had simply done her homework. Watch to see who gathered around the poster for a few days, if anyone repeatedly stops by, ask around. "Remember when you two were younger and you were stronger and faster than him and you'd pummel your brother just because you could? Because you had that feeling of superiority, power, and advantage?" Min finished jovially. The older boy grinned sheepishly, laughing when his brother socked him lightly on the arm. "Well, that's what bender's have, expect they don't grow out of that. And that's because their siblings, us non-benders, can't do push-ups or study to have that advantage. You can't compensate for bending. It's always the higher advantage. Sure, sometimes we succeed - but at what costs? How often? How many non-benders comprise the counsel?.."

This was to be Min's hopefully final point - she doubted the group would need more. She would get several fighters out of this group, the rest would probably be sympathizers. As such Min was concentrating so much on her speech, the level of emotion, her enunciation, her poise, that she did not notice the scowling woman approaching.

[Tag: Min]

Asami stood at the back of the crowd gathered around the woman in the cap who, despite the distance between them, could be easily heard. Everyone listening to her was silent. They clung to every word she said, speaking up only to mutter quietly among themselves or to loudly agree with what was being said. Her face tightened. This Equalist nonsense was absurd. She, more than most, knew what damage benders could do, but never once had she ever felt that benders as a whole were oppressive, cruel, or held some great advantage over the rest of society. They had been given a wonderful gift that should be celebrated, not protested. The Future Industries heiress remained silent throughout the woman's speech, but it quickly became more and more challenging to do so. This was all mere propaganda, lies and exaggerations and out-of-context assumptions. Children were children; they didn't understand that just because someone had more power that it was acceptable to use it. One couldn't accurately compare benders to brothers merely being brothers. For a group of people who complained of unfairness against non-benders, they seemed strangely willing to push the blame of a few benders upon many who had never done anything to harm another person.

By the time the woman in the cap had finished, she had heard more than enough. "This is ridiculous," Asami finally snapped, speaking up from the back of the crowd and perching her hands on her hips. Several onlookers nearby turned to look at her, some curious at what she had to argue and others sporting frowns matching her own, though for a different reason. "You can't blame all benders for the crimes of a few, or even for crimes they have nothing to do with." She turned to the couple who had spoken up previously. "The landlord didn't give you the apartment; how is that the earthbender's fault? He didn't ask to have that ability. It sounds like the landlord is the only one guilty of something." Asami then gestured to the Equalist recruiter. "You're crying injustice where there isn't any. The current council might be made up of benders, but that doesn't mean non-benders can't or haven't served on it. There are absolutely benders who abuse their power, and they specifically should be the ones you should be upset with. It's insane to be angry with someone just because they happen to have been born a bender."

In many ways, Asami knew that she had it much easier - she didn't have to live with many of the supposed imbalances between benders and non-benders that permeated Republic City. At the same time, she was a living example of how everything that the Equalist woman was saying was completely false. Her mother had been murdered by a firebender, but she understood that not all benders were this way. One person had killed her mother, and that was the only person who should be held responsible. She had trained for her entire life so that she could hold her own against benders, so she knew that it was entirely possible. Was it easy? Certainly not. It was not, however, as impossible as this woman made it sound. Non-benders were just capable of displaying as much strength, and as much evil, as any bender.

Min, jaw clenching imperceptibly in annoyance, looked icily at the interloper who had cut into their midst. Her presence was rapidly becoming a challenge, and while Min enjoyed a good challenge, it irked her that she needed to adjust her plans when she had been so close to finishing. Now she'd have to commit more time while she could be recruiting new people; it bespoke inefficiency. But while this new, statuesque woman was certainly a roadblock and a nuisance, it was not a lost cause. Strategically Min knew she was in the better position, having had time to familiarize herself with the crowd and impart her philosophy. As the woman spoke Min's eyes darted from person to person, evaluating and executing mental triage. It was unlikely the couple or the boys would turn against her - the teenagers were practically in her pocket. However, Min could tell that the woman's opposition was exacerbating their eagerness into belligerence. The Equalist exhaled sharply. While she desperately wanted to avoid a fight, Min also knew she would lose their confidence if she failed to act. The older lady and the two other adults seemed more curious than anything else, although she detected some aggravation in the younger woman.

Tone was important. She needed to be unruffled, confidant, earnest. Min conceded (mentally, of course - one could skewer themselves giving ground) that several of the woman's arguments rang true. It was wrong to scapegoat the many for the crimes of the few. Min's own father was a firebender, and she knew that while he himself had never used his bender for evil, per se, he used it without malice, without violence, at the expense of others. Not to mention how it had been used against him; firebending was a thorn in his side, he didn't need it. But that was besides the point. And here Min interjected, sharp and clear. "This isn't just about crimes, but fundamental inequalities." She paused, looking hard at the listeners. They needed to be drawn in.

"Do you think the earthbender accidentally used his bending to win the landlords favor?" She looked seriously, questioningly at the couple, who muttered 'no.' "The landlord was being economical - the earthbender was being abusive, using an ability his neighbors couldn't possibly equal."
"And who is always going to get that construction job, the earthbender who can do the work of ten men barely lifting his arms, or the nonbender who has to use an expensive machine? All bender's exploit their ability - and just because it isn't their fault they can bend doesn't make it just or right. Even if a
bender doesn't "do" anything, they are and always will be favored simply because they can bend." As she spoke Min turned slowly around the crowd, looking ardently at each face. "Can nonbenders legally serve on the council? Yes. Do they? Can they realistically do so? Do you see a single non-bender on that council?" A few cries of no and dark muttering emanated from the crowd.

The more they argued, the greater the polarizing effect on the group. Already Min could tell that some faces were beginning to set and harden - not all, she suspected, on her behalf. Others seemed more anxious to depart; a drawn out altercation was not what they wanted to be drawn into after a long day of work. With these quick observations Min changed tact, stepping closer to the intruder. Perhaps it would be possible to goad her with a more personal attack, or at least paint her as an enemy. The woman's apparent affluence would work against her, although it remained impossible to tell if she was a bender. "These are exactly the lies and false promises they use to seduce us into compliance. So what are you = the deceiver? The victim? The betrayer?" She prodded, an arms length away. Close enough to be a slight, but far enough away so not to be outright rude.

[Tag - Min]

The woman wasn't happy. This assumption wasn't made due to any visible signs; in fact, Asami was almost impressed with her ability to keep her face clean of anything that remotely suggested irritation with the interruption. No, she knew that the woman was bothered by her speaking up because she was not the first Equalist that Asami had had the displeasure of coming across. They didn't like to be challenged. They were sprouting up as prevalently as weeds, and just as undesirably. Asami had no qualms with others voicing their opinions, but trying to persuade others to join a mission based on anger, self-pity and exaggerated injustices was something else entirely. Taking to the streets and preaching the message that benders were all inherently evil was appalling. In the mind of the Equalist, they were a victim and anyone who disagreed was just as bad as whoever had supposedly wronged them.

The tension in the crowd was tangible, and she didn't care. If things were tense, then that meant people were thinking. Hopefully, most of them would have enough sense to realize that they were only being manipulated. Asami scoffed. "All benders? What about the waterbending healers, or the metalbending officers, or the firebenders who help power this city? Is that exploiting their powers? Wouldn't it be worse if they didn't use their abilities to help other people?" If this woman could try and make a point that trying to heal someone's wounds or protect the city was a terrible thing, then there was no sense in continuing this conversation as far as Asami was concerned.

Her dark hair swayed as she turned to look apologetically over at the couple. "It's wrong that benders sometimes get preferential treatment, but that doesn't mean that bending itself is the problem, or that benders are all horrible people just because they're benders." Asami didn't know the landlord, nor the earthbender in question, so she was in no position to say with complete confidence who was the guilty party; both could have behaved poorly or neither could. For all they knew, the couple could be horrible tenants and the other man being an earthbender could have nothing to do with it. Either way, that specific instance wasn't the main point here. Benders did sometimes have it easier, as the Equalist woman said, but it was also as Asami said - having an advantage in one scenario or another did not make benders evil. Everyone had their own individual strength in a certain area. Being a bender did not automatically guarantee success. Asami's own father was evidence of that.

The girl's attention returned to the woman as she approached. Their close proximity did nothing to shrink Asami's posture; if anything, she now stood slightly more erect, her chin ever so lifted. She spoke no lies, would never consider herself a victim of any sort, and had never sworn any sort of allegiance to her fellow non-benders. This was not a matter of bender versus non. This was an issue between right and wrong. "None of the above," Asami said coldly. "I don't try to convince people of something using huge exaggerations. I don't pity myself and blame others for the things that happen to me. I'm not on a mission to vilify my fellow human beings just because I think they have it better than I do." Her green eyes slimmed, unmoving from the woman before her. "Can you say the same?"

[Tag; Jing]

Downtown was as busy as always. The buzz was constant, impossible to ignore. People rushing, never enough time in the day to complete their tasks. Merchants haggling with overly eager customers, some even bidding against each other for rare items or limited stock. Stands from all the Nations selling stock from each individual place of origin, proving popular to those not native of Republic City. It was quite a sight to behold, but one that looked exhausting.

Ottoya Goeng-Luk was not an enthusiastic person. The rush and madness of the heart of Republic City was impressive for sure, it was much more exciting than anything that happened in the Southern Water Tribe, but it was too hectic, too mad. Ottoya didn't want to be caught up in the wave of people, he just wanted to get what he needed and get out. Unfortunately that wasn't going to be the case, it was rush hour, it was the busiest time of the day, one could not simply grab what they needed. It took queuing, haggling and bidding before you were able to attempt your way out of the labyrinth of people. It was a million miles from Ottoya's comfort zone.

The Waterbender took one look at the chaotic mass and shook his head slowly. His long dark hair bounced on his shoulders as he turned away and headed in completely the other direction. He shoved his hands into his royal blue trousers and scuffed his brown snow-boots against the gravel. This place always seemed so lively, so why did it feel like it was dead?
Nothing interesting
There was never anything interesting, that was Ottoya's problem, he wasn't easily entertained. Letting out a sigh he made a mental note to check out Pro-Bending at some point, his father had convinced him of that at least. Other than that, he needed to be meeting people. Weren't there Nightclubs or something? Places where he could meet people more his age? Back in the South Pole, Ottoya knew one or two kids his age, but they all had other ambitions. They stayed and hunted, made a life for themselves back in the white wasteland. Ottoya had to change habitat, he had to adapt to the City life. He needed a new ambition.

Maybe he didn't need to go to social clubs... Maybe if he opened his eyes, he'd see there were people everywhere, opportunities to communicate. Yet the more the teenager looked, the less he saw. Gray clothing, forgettable faces. Old people, young children, drained adults... No one his age, no one who he would remember. No one worth talking to.
"This is too much effort" He muttered, folding his arms decisively.

Ottoya hated exerting himself, at this point he was getting annoyed that he had been in Republic City for two weeks and he had spoken to no one but his Father. It was easy for his Dad, the Firebender, he always had people around him at his little business.
Gray
It was easy for people who had lived here their entire lives, they went to school, places where you were forced to meet kids your age, forced to socialize and learn simultaneously. Forced to meet the demands and guidelines set by your elders.
Gray
It was easy for everyone but Ottoya, why was he the one struggling? Why was he so isolated? Maybe he should give up, go home and eat something. Listen to Pro-bending on the radio or throw a ball at a wall. It'd be more interesting than the infinite blandness of the pavement in front of him.
Green
It was so- Wait... Green?

That had caught the teenager's eye, Earth Kingdom attire. It was rare to see someone dressed in traditional attire, it symbolized that they were clearly not from this city, or just old fashioned. Judging by the guy's age, he guessed it was the former. This kid was not from Republic City. Neither was Ottoya, that much would have been evident from the deep blue Water Tribe get-up. Two outsiders living in the city. Right in front of him was his chance to socialize, the opportunity to kill this boredom, the end of his frustration.

And he walked right on past him without saying a word.
Damn it!
He had blown it, he had thought the situation to awkward. What was he supposed to say? 'Hey, want to hang out?', the guy was two or three years his younger, it'd just be weird. He probably had stuff to do anyway. The Water Tribe teen gritted his teeth and swore under his breath, continuing on his way.

[Tag; Jing]

Ottoya had a new goal, to go home and spend the evening staring at his ceiling. It seemed like a nice goal, an easy goal. It didn't require effort or awkward situations. It didn't require having to make conversation with people he knew. Was that it? Was he scared of meeting new people? No. He had met loads of new people back home, right? No... He had grown up with the fellow South Pole kids, he had always know them. That had to be it. This experience of meeting new people, it was alien to him, it went against what he knew. That was why he walked past the boy without saying anything.

But it takes two to have a conversation. Just as Ottoya hadn't spoken to the boy, the Earth Kingdom kid had not voiced himself either... But did he have to? The boy in green most likely was already antiquated with people, had contacts. Why would he have any desire to speak to some random guy on the streets?

What the Water Tribe boy needed was time. Give it a month, he'd meet people. He'd find a goal, a purpose and he'd chase it. This would be a new start, that was what all of this was about; moving to Republic City to start fresh. So why did everything feel the same?

The more Ottoya thought about things, the more frustrated he became with himself. He kicked another pebble, his head down. He wished he had his dark blue coat with him as he was starting to get a chill, plus he had a desire to hide his face.

And then a hand on his shoulder. That was strange. It wasn't a menacing hand that clamped above his arm, it wasn't malicious. Yet it wasn't warm either, not friendly... It was hard to describe the grip, it was... Steady.
"Umm, sir? I need to ask you a question." Came a voice, uncertain with hints of hesitation. The Waterbender turned around, the hand was gone as fast as it came, but it's owner stood in front of him. It was the kid in green. Who else could it have been? Ottoya was surprised nonetheless, not at who had approached him but as to why he had done such a thing. What did this guy want? Was he in the exact same boat as the teen from the South Pole? Was he having the same thought process about starting a social life? Meeting new people?

"Where did you find those clothes? Whoever made them is extremely talented." He finished.
Apparently not. He just wanted to know the origin of his clothes. The darker skinned boy let out a huff, this kid was wasting time that he needed to waste. Conversation. He should have been happy, a few moments ago he was annoyed that he had missed the chance to socialize, now he was angry that he was. But this wasn't socializing, this guy was just commenting on his attire.

The boy in blue bulked himself up, making himself taller than his fellow outsider. The icy blue eyes narrowed, his finger pointed at the guy's chest.
"I didn't find these clothes, Pal..." He prodded him in the chest, was this guy accusing him of stealing? The frown deepened, "I made them myself..." He lied, not really wanting to admit that his mother had made them for him, that just wasn't manly.
"And yeah! I'm talented... What's it to you, anyway?!" He folded his arms.

Well that was extremely harsh and rude. Was there any need to be so aggressive? This guy had done nothing wrong and yet Ottoya still felt he needed to show his aggression, he felt he needed to be in control. It was stupid, he was never going to make friends this way. He wouldn't blame the kid for just running and never speaking to him again.
Wow.
No wonder he didn't have a social life.