Iluak chose to ignore the shouting of Mei. Being treated so delicately was deeply annoying though Mei's guardian spirit seemed much less irritating than his own. Bottle serpents when he was alone and one bothersome Equalist when he wasn't.

He was glad to hear the conversation shift to the subject of odd names. Iluak wondered if all siblings could annoy and then forget about one another.
"Warriors and musicians always choose the most odd and exuberent names for themselves. A man can't just be Tora, he has to call himself Tiger Lifts The Mountain," Iluak said with mock importance like the narrator of a pulp martial arts novel. "Or a singer might be..." he searched his brain for his minute knowledge of jazz and tried to think of a silly nom de jazz. "I don't know...Blindfold Red or something."
He laughed at his own pathetic attempt to pick a jazz name. "Now you know why I practice healing instead of writing for a jazz magazine." He caught a glimpse of Mei through his fog of shyness and saw that while she was very pretty under normal circumstances Mei was a luminous beauty when enthusiastic about something.

For once he realised how much he was speaking while avoiding questions.
"Not a jazz fan. I...just...wanted to learn to play that song for someone. It's the only record I have." He cleared his throat and took a purposely long drink of water. "Do you play an instrument, Mei? Playing water harp was common with the people around my old village."

He could see in his mind Mei dressed in traditional (if a bit more revealing) water tribe formal wear performing a song with water bending that mad the eyes and ears the envy of all the other senses. He shook himself from his daydream with a mental note that Mei liked jazz. Suddenly the genre didn't seem so dreadful. He'd have to berate his friend Tsubaki into tutoring him next time she came by the office to argue.

Mei asking about the song he was trying to learn made him feel like an ass and hoped that it wouldn't provoke any other questions regarding it.
"It's...uh...going horribly. When it comes to playing the bass I'm a very good healer," he said with a smirk. "I'll play it for her when I get good...or at least when it doesn't sound the like the musical equivalent of a traffic accident."

Iluak's amusement turned from self-pity to genuine when Me asked about playing the water harp while running her finger around the rim of her glass.
"That's how they did it. Somehow they'd rub their finger around a glass and music would come out. I never understood it. I would just hear it and then go back to my studies. Medicine is really all that interested me. I suppose I was a weird kid. While others went penguin sledding I'd just watch the penguins." For a brief second the bitter and harsh Iluak Chu receded as he sighed and looked at the tattoo on the back of his left hand of the mark of the trusted which prompted him to think of fond childhood memories.
"I miss watching penguins. It's just not the same in a zoo."

With a slight blush Iluak reclaimed his normal demeanor. Part of him resented Mei-Zhen for putting him off of his guard with so little effort. The other part resented himself for having one to be put off of.

For a second Iluak felt a little woozy. He spent more than twenty-four hours aching for sleep and now that he felt it coming on he wished he could ingest every stimulant the pharmacy adjoined with his clinic had in stock. Instead he excused himself as politely as he could and wobbled to the bar for what he was certain was his strangest drink order yet.
When he returned he held two cups of heavily sugared coffee for himself.

"So...Why healing? Please tell me it's not that 'I was forced to because I was a girl' crap. That stuff bugged the hell out of me. Still does." He quickly downed his first cup and held onto the second as if it were his only pillar of consciousness.

”Well, in some circles that would be considered pretty good music. Musicians are always experimenting. I’m sure your friend will love it, though. How many people learn to play a song for them?”

And that was true. Friends provided a good word and a hug when you were down. They told you uncomfortable truths in the nicest way (occasionally in not the nicest way but it still needed to be done). They shared experiences, stories, and told jokes. There were friends that came around rarely, a bright spot of color in a sepia toned life, and others that were always there, who kept the world in brilliant saturation whenever they were seen. Mei’s friendship experiences had been with more of the bright spots of color kinds. Ling was an exception, but she was also family, which everyone would say was an out in that way. As far as Mei was concerned, the kind of person who would learn a single song for another was one of those special color-all-the-time friends.

“Huh,” Mei said, her finger coming to a rest on the rim of the empty glass. She eyed it as if it were ready to play a tune for her, “I wonder how that works.” She paused. “It doesn’t sound weird to me. I never saw penguins. My father mentioned sledding with them once as a child but…it must have been fascinating to watch them.”

Iluak excused himself, and when he stood he wavered back and forth before walking over to the bar. Mei felt a heaviness over her forehead and pinched the bridge of her nose. No more poison looking liquor, then. She pushed the bottle towards the middle of the table and spared a glance to Ling’s table. It was loud, with laughs and shouts, and the dancer was handing out another round of drinks.

When the doctor returned to the table he was holding two mugs of steaming coffee. Mei mentally smacked herself. He had said he hadn’t been sleeping and she was keeping him up with conversation. It was terrible to think he did this routinely, though she had long known that Iluak went for long stretches of time without sleep. When people needed him for their very lives that was one thing, it was easy to understand getting lost in work and others. Staying up for the sake of speaking with her? It was selfish.

Iluak asked her why she had wanted to heal, then gulped down his first mug. The way he gripped the second and wobbled a bit in his seat made her stomach twist. That was either guilt or the rat viper. “No, it wasn’t like that. My father had always wanted to learn healing but had never gotten the chance. He would say, ’Anyone can fight, but it takes strength to fix what’s broken.’ I…wanted to fix…I wanted to help. People need that--are you sure I shouldn’t walk you home? So you can get some sleep?” On instinct Mei reached out to his wrist, a move born of concern and comfort, but the self-conscious part of her brain pulled the abort lever and she stopped. Her hand awkwardly hovered in the air before she let it drop to the table.

Iluak had to laugh derisively at Mei's comment about certain circles appreciating the meager musical talents of Republic City's most acerbic healer.
"I think any circle that appreciates my music would be a circular firing squad. The one note I can play would probably cause more suicides than that story where the woman throws herself into a volcano."

When Mei-Zhen reached to nearly Iluak's wrist and offered to walk him home he had to take a few seconds to blink.
She's drunk. Don't take advantage of this sweet girl.
"A walk sounds nice. I don't think I'm in the condition to drive."
As usual the voice in his head that gave advice was ignored.

Iluak made sure to drink his second cup of coffee slower than the first.
The words of Mei's father rolled around in his head as he drank.
"I think I would have gotten along with your father. I can't say that about many people. Head-splitters get all the glory and getting medical help is seen as unbecoming of a warrior. Still...I can't imagine doing anything else."

As he wobbled upon standing Iluak hoped it was in a tired, hard-working doctor kind of way and not that of a man crashing from alcohol and stimulants usually reserved for people with physical rather than emotional maladies. He stabled himself by placing his left hand on the table and heaved a heavy sigh. He felt more than a little pathetic that he had put on such a pathetic display.

He had agreed to a walk, which Mei noted possibly didn’t mean “a walk home.” A walk without a destination in Downtown at night ranged from head clearing to suicide, depending on where your feet decided to take you. Mei liked the city at night, though. It was quieter (if one didn’t count the occasional scream) and there was something very beautiful about the golden glow that came from the lights and buildings.

Mei smiled while Iluak finished his other mug. “Yes, he definitely would have liked you.”

Rising to his feet, Iluak swayed looking like an inverted pendulum before he stabled himself against the table with his hand. Without thinking, Mei reached out to help keep him upright. The slight fuzziness and heaviness in her head subsided, the professional healer part of her mind rushing forward bringing her equipment and a long list of possible ailments.

“Careful. Alright, can you stay here for a minute. I need to tell Ling that I’m taking you home,” she said, all traces of self-consciousness lost. She slowly pulled herself away to help Iluak maintain his balance, then strode away to Ling’s table.

The dancer who had served them was there, collecting bets for the next round. At Mei-zhen's approach several of the players cheered, and one whistled. These men were all on their way to sleeping face first into their cards if they kept drinking at the pace they were. For a game that was built on subterfuge and dual rule sets, Mei couldn’t grasp how anyone could do it while so inebriated. They were past the threshold of possible genius moments, stuck somewhere between talkative conviviality and bawdy songs. Some of them would veer off into crying despondency or angry yelling. How was it any fun to play cards with opponents like that?

“Hey, sweetheart!” one of the men shouted. “You want in? Our generous host would be more than happy to--!”

She didn‘t wait for him to finish, “No thank you.” Mei skirted around the table, stopping at Ling’s side. “Ling, I need to leave for a little while. Iluak’s sleep deprived and had some alcohol and it’s all catching up to him. I have to make sure he gets home and gets some sleep. I’ll be back before you’re done, I’m sure.”

The man who shouted frowned, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Heeey, no peaking at the cards, lady! You’re either here to play or you aren’t!”

“Why would I look at your cards?” she asked, puzzled.

The man took a long swig out of his tankard, and when he slammed it back down on the table it sloshed up and almost out onto the table. “Are you serious?” Now he looked both confused and unfocused.

Mei returned the confusion and countered with her own brand of earnest. “Yes. I’m not playing. I don’t care about your cards.”

Every man at one time or another entertained the fantasy of defending a beautiful woman from a drunken lout in a bar and Iluak was no exception. What the healer didn't entertain was the ridiculous notion that he could hold his own against a common barfly.
He assumed the only hits would be involving his face and the floor.
This did not mean that he had the presence of mind not to answer obnoxious behavoir with more of the same.

"Are you concerned about your standing as a man, seriously?" He smirked at the drunk gambler's drink. "Cute. Did the bottle have a poodle monkey on it?" He then presented his own bottle of liquid self-destruction containing a dead rat viper and less savory things swimming inside. "This on the other hand might cause a sudden surge of testosterone."
Iluak almost laughed at himself for picking a fight. He had his own sudden surge of testosterone.

The plan was simple. Humiliate the man by drinking him under the table. Iluak Chu considered himself the best there was at what he did and that was drink.
Instead there were two hits. His face. The floor.

The only victory was that he was gently escorted while the man who punched him had a much less pleasant ejection from The Golden Fan Saloon. Also, he would be able to gain entry later while the other man would be bounced.
"Sooner or later...everyone punches me in the face."
It was an act of chivalry only a drunk jerk could imagine and Iluak liked to think he was the jerkiest.

"Sorry, miss Yao...but that man gives drunken reprobates a bad name. I had to say something." Without an ounce of self-consciousness the drunk put his arm around Mei, but more for balance than affection.

Events had a way of spinning out of control, and with drunks it always spun faster and faster, until it wobbled over and took out several other events along with it. If they weren’t outside, in the night air that reeked of smog, Mei would have had a little trouble believing that had all happened.

Iluak, who was now leaning against her for support, had shown up, insulted the impolite player, challenged him to a drinking contest, and gotten laid out for it. That had earned both of them an unceremonious exit from the Saloon. The doctor would probably have a black eye…or a swollen nose, depending on where the punch landed. That would be something else that needed looking after; were you not supposed to let someone sleep after a punch? Or was that just getting knocked on the head?

“Sooner or later…everyone punches me in the face,” the healer said.

“Iluak, that’s a statistical impossibility,” she replied, “and I would never do that.” Her tone was serious and matter-of-fact.

Wrapping her arm around his back for better support, Mei sighed and decided the only path now was forward. Ling wouldn’t be happy--all of this had cost her a player and she would be concerned about the return trip--but leaving Iluak to his own devices was an unthinkable proposition.

The whole thing still seemed…slightly unbelievable. She had told him to wait, hadn’t she? Yes, she definitely had done that. And she’d been nothing but honest with the player. In another minute she would have returned to their table and they would have left from there. As Iluak apologized, Mei pursed her lips into a thin line. It had all been so unnecessary.

“If he had accepted your challenge then you would have been stuck in a drinking contest,” Mei said, doing her best to guide the wobbly healer off the sidewalk and across the street with the least amount of unbalancing. “Getting you home would be a lot more difficult with you unconscious. Why did you do it?”

At the corner of the next street one of the lights flickered, the light going from golden to a brown tinged black. Further down the street the buildings melted away, swallowed by a thick yellow light that was the result of Republic City’s lovely smog. The clinic was only several blocks away, but that was still several blocks Mei had to make sure that no one popped out of the alleyways. Alleys were the go-to hiding spot of the impolite. They were the types that had the coarse nicknames--not the fun jazz player kind--hid their eyes in the shadow of their hat brims and didn’t pull punches. Probably because they were using knifes or the elements instead.

Incidents weren’t common around the Saloon, though, and that was reassuring. Passing out in the gutters outside was, but most unsavory types tended to wait around for prey several blocks further away.

For Iluak the most horrible thing about being so out of it that he had to be supported by a pretty woman was that he wouldn't remember it in the morning.
Not only was he a drunk and she a pretty woman but they were filling their respective roles in a bad part of town. For the first time in a while Iluak was afraid. He didn't drink as excessively as he did because of the value he had on his own life. Not that it belonged to him. Mei, though...Mei provoked great tsunamis of fear in the man.

Sooner or later…everyone punches me in the face,” the healer said.
“Iluak, that’s a statistical impossibility,” she replied, “and I would never do that.”
He desperately wanted to believe that, but knew that once certain parts of his past less prone to penguins and whimsy were revealed Mei would probably strike him.

Mei's question finally reached Iluak's addled brain. What was he thinking picking a fight? The question should have been what was he thinking with. His brain had been ruled out first."I think that might have been me trying to be gentlemanly. What kind of man harasses innocent women like that? You looked uncomfortable...so I thought I'd comfort you."
He paused. "I mean get rid of the source of your discomfort."

"Are we in the southeast yet? Tell me we're in the southeast."
In the deadly game of gangster tag the southeast was home base. Gangs avoided it like slugs avoided salt. Iluak didn't know why his clinic had never had any trouble from gangs but he had his theories. Just thinking of that man made the tattoo on his right wrist itch. It always itched when he thought of him.
He scratched at the symbol for Yuan inked into his wrist in what he hoped was a subtle manner.

When a silhouette emerged from the smoke and fog Iluak's stomach threatened to expel two days worth of alcohol and stimulants.

((Do you want to continue in Through Downtown Republic City or stay here, Ai Lin?))

[OOC--I'm kind of just jumping in. if I need to change something, I can.]

A 'productive' day on the streets warranted a worthy evening in a tavern. This one was as good as any other... or perhaps it was better, maybe worse. It wasn't something to think too hard about, as Raeya wasn't exactly known for being a picky woman in the things and people she did and met.

Most bars and saloons were vaguely familiar with the swarthy, high-spirited waterbender from the docks. She'd come in, get a few drinks, chat with a couple of patrons who were less interested in trying to woo her and instead wanted to know a bit about her rather than was was under her clothes. Then again, a few of said wooers weren't actually too hard on the eyes, and it wasn't too uncommon for her to get a room.

whatever the case, general trends did not dictate how things always went. Raeya wasn't sure if this time would be any different, but she would find out. She didn't expect much in the way of surprises, but found the tavern to be quite mirthful, which kept her smiling.

"Thankfully I don't have another band of thugs on my case again," she mused, slamming some coins on the table, only to have them replaced with a drink, "that was a hell of a scene that rose up from the mess I made last time."
she laughed, taking a hearty swig of the mug's contents, only putting it down when it was drained. a few more coins and another frothy mug switched hands, and Raeya relaxed, glancing around the tavern to see its colorful array of patrons for the evening.
it was going to be a good night.

~Raeya~

OOC @ Tenoko: Welp, feel free to jump in the actual goings-on, haha. :3 Might need to read a bit to catch up, maybe saunter your way over to where Ling is by the end of this post.

Ling groaned audibly as her friend smacked her attacker with something that could only be described as a water whip. Making a mental note to figure out if that could be used otherwise elsewhere, the freckled woman sprung into action at Katsumi's request for help. As the other woman backed away from the advancing man, Ling tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, she slugged him with her right fist across the face. The impact sent vibrations down her arm, and she pulled away quickly, shaking her hand in an attempt to dispel the twinge of pain. He wouldn't be taken down that easily though —- not when money was on the line, and not as drunk as he was. The man reeled from the blow, stumbling into a (thankfully unoccupied) table.

Taking advantage of his disorientation, Ling sprung forward, pulling yet another hidden blade from down by her ankles. With a flick of her wrist, she deftly sliced the leather belt holding the man's pants up. Whirling away, she watched in bemusement as he stared at her in confusion, then watched as he attempted to pull his pants up, with ruddy-faced embarrassment, while still trying to amble toward her. She laughed in genuine amusement, peals of laughter only barely drowned out by the din of other fights and the music.

Her laughter only increased as the bouncers finally started doing their jobs — what took them so long, anyway? — and strong-arming the fighters out of the Saloon. With a nod toward Katsumi, Ling slipped into one of the corner booths, trying her best to meld with the shadows. Sitting along the wall as flat as possible, she watched with a smile as her opponent looked around in confusion, searching for her, having looked away for the briefest of moments as the bouncers grabbed ahold of an arm each. It was all Ling could do not to laugh and call attention to herself as he was marched away, awkwardly holding the top of his trousers in a bunch.

Once the was gone and the fights (mostly) settled, save for a few people resisting being kicked out, Ling thumped the money purse down on the table. It was perfectly safe now to split the winnings with her partner, seeing as anyone who participated or witnessed the card game had... "left", or was in the process of "leaving".

She started separating the yuans into piles of 'fifty' and 'hundred'. As the piles increased, Ling couldn't help the feeling of accomplishment that washed over her. Sure, the money wasn't exactly 'honest', but at the very least she now had enough money --even with Katsumi's cut factored in-- for her and Mei to not only file for their business permit at City Hall, but also to pay the rental fees on their new office building.

An idea struck her. "Katsumi?" she queried, not looking up from her counting.

OOC: This post si shorter than I'd like. I apologize.

Drunk men had always unnerved her a little, but she’d never been truly afraid of any…until now. This guy was coming for her, and she wasn’t exactly fantastic at defending herself. She knew some Waterbending moves that might help, but the only ones that came to mind were a little more lethal than she wanted. The idiot might be trying to attack her, but she didn’t want to accidentally kill him. Hopefully Ling would take advantage of the opportunity she’d provided.

And just like that, she did. Katsumi felt like cheering when her friend’s fist crashed into her assailant’s face, but held it in. He wasn’t down yet. Then the woman pulled out yet another knife—where was she keeping those?—and cut his belt. The dancer sighed. That was unnecessary, and was probably just going to make the guy even angrier. That was not what they needed—even if it was funny.

A little tardy, but better late than never, the bouncers got their act together and started breaking up fights and escorting the combatants out of the saloon. Ling, always the opportunist, made her way back to the table where she’d been playing, and Katsumi followed her, a small smile on her face. She sat next to her friend—taking a much-deserved break from work—and watched as the money began to pile up. “Okay, I know this was technically a success, but next time let’s try to avoid big fights,” she counseled. True, Ling hadn’t started the fight, but she hadn’t exactly done a lot to stop it either. Katsumi’s job was exciting enough as it was.

The tone of Ling’s voice as she said her name worried the dancer. “What is it?” she responded. “Is something wrong?” She couldn’t think of what the problem might be, but she never knew with drunks. She just hoped that, after all the “fun” of the brawl, nothing else was going to mess with what should have been a routine night.

OOC: Sorry for the delay.

"Hey, it's not my problem," Ling shrugged, continuing to count the winnings. "I don't throw down unless they hit first, you know that." She finished sorting the yuans into little piles, and split it evenly between herself and the other woman. "A thousand and a half yuans a piece," she said happily. "Thanks to that little snot that joined late." She leaned back in the booth, eyeing her friend.

"Relax." She waved her hands and Katsumi's worry away. "It's nothing bad." She tapped the table with her fingers. "So, okay, look. Mei and I have been doing a bit of thinking. Our Ma-ma isn't doing so well, y'know? I don't think she's sick, or anything, just old. Mei's volunteer job at that Healer's clinic doesn't get money, and her waitressing job is the pits." Ling inclined her head in Katsumi's direction. "As I'm sure you understand," she added.

The freckled woman continued, running her thumb over the edges of the paper bills. "I work lousy odd gigs and then gamble to make ends meet. Not that it isn't fun," --she grinned-- "but I can't do it ALL the time anymore. If Mei had been here tonight and got caught up in that fight..." Ling shook her head, her cowlicks flapping comically with the gesture. "Anyway, so Mei and I were thinking of going legit, starting our own business — a detective agency."

She leaned in conspiratorially and dropped her voice to a whisper. "There's a lot that goes on in this City; I know first hand. As tough as Chief Bei Fong and her officers are, they don't even know half of the corruption goin' on here. Not to mention there's just stuff people won't go to the coppers for. That's where we'd come in. People hire us, look for stuff or find some people or get stuff back. It's a dangerous job, but once we get all the proper city permits and forms it's legal and non-affiliated with the police. We'd be contracted."

Ling leaned back, resuming a regular voice. "I'll still be by here, of course, but if you ever get tired of this place I'm sure we could use another. Or maybe you can just help out from time to time, if you're interested." She smiled at her friend, then stood. "I'll be right back, I need some air. This place is stuffy. Think about it while I'm out, yeah?"

With a wink and a nod, Ling stepped out of the Saloon and into the crisp night. She took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of the cool air on her skin. She leaned up against the building nonchalantly, scanning the roads for Mei's return.

"OI!"

A harsh voice interrupted the quiet night. Ling turned — and groaned. That same leery-face drunkard was still hanging about. "What do you want?" she asked, her tone cold as ice.

"Tha... tha game was rigged!" he tottered toward her, hand running along the outer Saloon wall as a guide. Ling glanced toward the door. The bouncer was otherwise occupied with a pretty lady patron. Great.

"Hey, I'm talkin' t'ya!" She turned toward the drunk to retort —- and the next thing she knew she was on the ground and seeing stars. Wha-—? Her face was bleeding profusely, and the centre of it hurt like fire. She spat on the ground, noting with a grimace her mouth was bleeding, too. Woozily, she tried to stand.

He hit her again, on the other side of her face. Her head knocked against the Saloon wall, and she cursed — loudly — as she crumpled to the ground. The vision in her left eye turned red, and she struggled to stay conscious, clumsily pulling her boot-knives out and slashing around wildly. The man yelped and shouted a string of expletives, and Ling knew metal had found flesh. With difficulty, she stood, leaning against the wall for support. Shutting her bad eye, she glared at the man, who was clutching his wounded thigh.

"Get out of here!" she shouted, hoping to attract SOMEone's attention. Ling brandished her knife with bravado. "Go on, or I'll gut you."