(Untitled)

[notanoptimist]

Despite wanting to keep Katara in-sight after her last little stunt, Sokka did actually have work to do. And it was really hard to do it with an angry Water Tribe girl glaring at him throughout.

So he left Katara behind with Harper and express instructions to really tie her up if she tried anything and made his way to the roof

Comments

[dead_comrade]

Alarmed mercenary with a bow coming to see what the source of the bashing is. He lowers the bow and puts the arrow back into the quiver when he finds nobody's smashing (or being smashed by) stray Magog.

He pauses for a moment to watch the bashing commence. A tiny fleck of concrete catches him under the eye. He considers whether or not they really need a lot of dust and gravel.

He pitches his voice to be heard. "Y'know, we've got a flight of stairs near the top floor that needs to come down."

[notanoptimist]

He really hadn't thought his location through, or the likelihood of someone walking up on him. That's his excuse for why Sokka jumps at the voice, the club slipping out of suddenly slack hands to hit the floor with a thunk and go skidding across a ways. And Sokka pauses, his eyes on the weapon, breath heavy, shoulders heaving.

But he also wipes a hand across his eyes before looking back at who'd spoken - someone he doesn't recognize.

"...What?"

[dead_comrade]

Krauser is, currently, as in-touch with the world of reading emotions as a turtle is with predicting the stock exchange. He's aware there's some rage going on, but takes the eye-redness for the natural result of hanging your face in a cloud of plaster dust.

"Stairs. We're limiting the paths of movement throughout the upper floors. Nobody needs those rooms." He kicks a stray chunk of concrete, eyeing the club. That's really got to be a rugged weapon to stand up to that sort of treatment. "Getting scrap for something?"

[notanoptimist]

It's made of bone, reinforced with metal. It's a damn good weapon.

Sokka just stares at the man for a few moments, breathing heavily before he looks down and away, toward the rubble he's made. He'd come to make scrap, yes, but-- a lot more of it was dust now. What good was dust? He'd wasted materials by being stupid.

"...What if more people show up?" he asks quietly, monotone. He doesn't trust himself to put any emotion to his words right now.

[meimeichanic]

Kaylee is undergoing a conflict of interests. She wants to be outside, and enjoy being planetside, but outside isn't safe, and the rooftop has mean blue girls.

So she stays close to the building as she steps out, and leans against the apartment block wall, right by the door.

[notanoptimist]

Poor Kaylee is about to find out just outside the building isn't too safe either.

That faint, distant crashing sound of bone on concrete has more of a crack to it and then a sharp curse in English.

And then there's a block of concrete sailing over the roof and down toward the female mechanic, while Sokka sits unwittingly on the roof cursing the dust.

[meimeichanic]

And this is the sound of a mechanic squealing like a girl.

Only... no. That's the sound of a block of concrete hitting the tarmac just in front of a mechanic.

This is the sound of a mechanic screaming like a girl.

[notanoptimist]

Well, she is a girl. That probably helps.

And this is the sound of a stunned Tribesman realizing he's in serious trouble.

And also poking his head over the side of the roof with wide, frightened eyes.

"Oh, crap, ARE YOU OKAY? I'M SORRY!"