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.
Korra’s first strike hit its target, making Skoochy fall flat on his rear. Ignoring the pain, Skoochy picked himself back up as fast as he could, waiting for Korra’s next strike. And…THERE! She kicked the ground, sending a big chunk of rock hurtling at him. This one he dodged easily, rolling out of the way easily, and coming out in a controlled, prepared crouch, never taking his eyes off of Korra.
He could hear Bolin on the sidelines, giving advice on how to win, but Skoochy shook his head slightly, ignoring him. His own earthbending was weak, and using bending would only give the Avatar a chance to use it against him, giving her the advantage.
No, the best way to go at this was like with any street fight. Bolin and Skoochy shared a lot of things, but it was Mako who had taught him how to fight, how to stay small, tight, focused, and defensive, how to keep his cool and wait until the other one had worn himself out with wild attacks, and how to save one strike for the last moment in order to win.
Mako and Skoochy had both learned the lesson well: in any given fight, it is the one with flying fists who usually loses in the end.
So Skoochy crouched, staying as silent as possible, and waited.
Skoochy was either the luckiest kid in the world—or the unluckiest.
He was facing the Avatar, who had lived a lifetime already fighting, bending, refining her forms and technique in anticipation of any wars fought to keep four nations’ worth of peace. She wasn’t scuffling on the streets, she was contending with the foremost masters of combative bending and martial arts of the century. If he wanted to learn, he was definitely favored by fortune.
If he wanted to win… not so much.
“You’re a sitting turtleduck!” she crowed, and there was just a hint of smugness behind the tones. She knew exactly what he was doing, but ha. If he thought there’d be any chance in the Spirit World that he’d ever outlast her, he was sorely mistaken.
One punch, two, and a footstomp, and the clumps of earth that went flying toward him, pinning him in. Left, right, and another shift of her foot set another bump behind his feet so that if he sought to retreat he’d end up heels over head again. “Use what you have,” she told him, swinging through with her arms to send one after another after another of those pebbles in an endless assault. At least she wasn’t packing too much of a punch.
When Skoochy found he could no longer dodge to the side of any of the Avatar’s attacks, he threw his arms in front of his face, trying to protect himself from the worst of the barrage of pebbles the Avatar threw at him. Still, several of the rocks struck his stomach and ribcage, knocking the breath out of him one hit at a time.
Still, he couldn’t step backward, or that would mean instant failure.
He tried to hold himself together, keep himself defended as best he could, but he was losing, and badly, and he knew it. Finally, Korra threw a small but particularly sharp rock at him, slicing a large gash through both his forearms.
Skoochy screamed, a guttural, pained sound, and heaved himself upward, creating a thick earthen wall between himself and Korra. Now he was safe.
But he was also completely blind.