With the increase in hostilities around Republic City, Xing's worst imaginings were getting wilder and wilder. He was willing to bet that before long there would be another group like the Equalists resorting to physical political violence rather than just talking things out.

It wasn't to the point that he felt "unsafe" going from his downtown apartment to his job, or the grocery store, or a nice restaurant for an evening dinner... but he was hyper conscious of everyone around him, sometimes (he admitted to himself) reading too much into someone looking at him, thinking perhaps he was about to be targeted as another violent example. But, he had to remind himself, he was not a combatant; he did not actively and openly use his earthbending; and he was not a figure of authority or of any real import that would make an attack on him (or his death) especially worth noting by the Republic City press.

Today, however... today Xing was trying desperately to relax. He had the day off, he wanted to just walk around and enjoy the brisk autumn air and observe the colours of the trees that dotted the Downtown District. Thus although still looking the part of a dandy, he was not wearing his very best clothes — just some nice neutral browns and golds, things that wouldn't automatically "stereotype" him as an earthbender or a Kingdom sympathiser. It was a pain to think that even the simple and rather intimate act of choosing his personal fabrics had been coloured by the attitudes that permeated the fabric of their society.

Catching the intersection he had arrived at, he looked both ways along the road to make sure traffic was clear and then casually crossed the street toward one of the street-side bakeries he used to frequent. It had been a long time since he'd indulged himself, and he was really craving a strawberry and cheese pastry right about now. As he approached the bakery in question, however, he noticed a woman about his age that... seemed to be watching him. He almost puffed up and got offended, but reminded himself that he was just another pedestrian and it might just be idle curiosity prompting the staring.

"Can I help you, miss?" he asked politely if somewhat standoffishly, stopping in his tracks before he got any closer to the woman or the bakery... despite the aromas that were desperately inviting him to come in.