Hey, I'm Skoochy, the world's greatest pickpocket and spy extraordinaire. I know Republic City better than anyone, but if you want to pick my brain, it'll cost ya. Heehee. (an independent roleplay/ask blog) Lin Bei Fong, you're my hero.

 

Second Impressions || skoochythevagabond & wolfbat-king

wolfbat-king:

skoochythevagabond:

When Skoochy walked around outside the probending arena, he didn’t expect to see Tahno. He didn’t expect to see anyone really, he just wanted to see the damage Amon had done there for himself. Maybe he would see Mako or Bolin, if he were lucky, but he wasn’t holding out much hope for that.

It was unbelievable, really, how much destruction one man could cause. Skoochy sighed, running his hand along the wall. It really was too bad, he thought. The Equalists had so many followers because the message they had did have a grain of truth to it. Benders did oppress non-benders, and there was definite inequality in the city.

But the way the went about it was completely wrong. Even Skoochy, who didn’t much care for people anyway, knew this. And now he was trying to understand the difference between the people who speak the message, and the message itself.

It was a hard thing to do.

So, understandably, when Skoochy rounded the corner and came upon Tahno, also standing outside the arena and staring up at it, he didn’t notice until he had nearly collided with him.

“Whoa, he—!” he started, but paused. “Are you…the Wolfbat captain?” he asked, staring intently at the man.

Cheap finery had never attracted Tahno, but the probending arena had always held a certain charm. With it’s blazing lights and plated gold walls, the gaudy establishment had been the sight of his ups and downs over the years— mostly ups. He’d risen from a no name bender to a  star in one season, presiding over his kingdom of booze, bending, and busty women until Amon had seen fit as to knock him from his pedestal. Now, he was merely a dusty vagrant, a worthless former patron of this fine place.

But that was another story, for another time, perhaps. 

Now, he was here to collect his things, to sift through the memories and leave those best forgotten in the ashes of his failure. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, Tahno gazed up at the building dully, normally spark filled gaze flat and lifeless. His hair hung loosely, forming a dark curtain to shade his cheeks from view, as though that could protect him from the knowledge that his life would never be the same, not now. 

Shoving his hands deep in his pockets, Tahno hunched his shoulders against the cold, a soul deep chill wrapping its icy claws about his person. The only thing to do was get this over with, and it seemed— 

“Whoa, he—!”


Instinctively, his lips curled back in a disdainful grimace, full of wariness for the pipsqueak that had seen as fit to interrupt his wishful thoughts and dying dreams. Straightening his hunched shoulders, Tahno drew himself to full height, looming above the thin vagabond. His life may lay in tatters, but he was still— 

“Are you…the Wolfbat captain?”


The tenseness of his shoulders failed to dissipate, but Tahno allowed the boy a terse nod, his look of haughty superiority quite ruined by the dark bags that rimmed his once bright eyes. He had fallen far, farther than he liked to admit, though the thought tormented him on sleepless nights. At least someone still recognized him by sight, eh? His current state of dress may not be as… put together as usual, but this was a mere street urchin. Why should the boy’s opinion bother him in the slightest?

Yet still, he straightened his coat, holding his head high as though mere height could protect him. 

“Who else could I be, child?” he retorted, each word clipped and crisp. “Now, who are you? And what business have you here?” 

Though the building was dilapidated, falling to disrepair with each day that passed, Tahno couldn’t help but to feel protective. This had been his castle, the seat of his power… when the looters began to pilfer, he would regard them as grave robbers. 

For here lay Tahno’s honor, his life, his everything, in this grave of stone and metal.

Skoochy stepped back a couple paces, his face wary and cautious. Something about this person seemed…very off. Obviously, there were the baggy eyes, the unkempt clothes, the hair that fell like a limp fish from his head, but it was something more than that. There was an insanity somewhere, deep behind his eyes, like a cornered lizard-rat ready to kill.

Skoochy had learned the hard way never to mess with one of those bastards, once they’d lost it.

"I’m just a street rat, sir, no one special. I’m just here to look for a couple of my friends, but I guess they aren’t around." Skoochy backed up a couple more paces, about to turn and run, when his foot caught on a piece of rubble and he tumbled to the ground. 

Pushing himself off the ground, Skoochy dusted himself off, hiding the embarrassed flush on his face behind the brim of his hat. “I uh…I guess I’ll just go then.”