Thread: Kundalini Rising - An Adult ATLA/Legend of Korra Fanfiction

RE Kundalini Rising - ATLALegend of Korra Fanfiction The Earth Kingdom City of Omashu Last week it was four copper pieces! Ong growled across the wooden booth. He grasped a sack of rice in his hand and glared at the man sitting behind the counter. Around them Kyu-Bak, Omashus enormous indoor marketplace, buzzed with activity. No four. Six today. Laws strong today. the old man crossed his leathery, well-tanned arms over his chest stubbornly. He had the body of a beggar but the eyes of a businessman. On any other day Ong would have tried to get the price down to at least 5 or else search out a better price at another vendor, but today he was already running late. He made a slightly disgruntled sound and forked over the money, taking the rice and winding his way back through the press of bodies. He exited through one of the four massive doors to Kyu-Bak, his copper hair whipped by the powerful industrial fans groaning against the thick air of the city. Stepping out into the swelter was like walking into a wall of heat. Ong threw up his hand to guard his eyes from the radiance of the sun. The stone and metal of the city reflected the light brilliantly even despite the haze hanging in the air, suffocating the city. It was a scorcher today. Out in the sloping, winding streets near the outer walls, high-speed transports built on the rails crisscrossing the city zipped overhead. The idea for the system was supposedly originated by the citys king and an avatar in times long past. Ong made his way through the communities adjacent to the great outer walls, the innermost of which is the fourth side of many houses and huts built against the prolific defenses of the city. It is a place for the poor, adjoining the industrial district of Omashu. Walking through the streets one can smell the poverty. It is a scent, Ong thought, even sadder and more proximal than the stench of the emissions coming from industry. As if on cue, a fat-bellied exhaust pipe running from the heart of the city belched a cloud of smoke beside him. Ong! his named echoed from across a street clogged with trash and running children. He swiveled his head to see Nepa hurrying through an alleyway toward him. The man fell into step with Ong and they walked along up and down an uneven path leading to Ongs part of the slum. All the while Nepa whistled, his cheeks rosy and a smile on his face despite the grime besmearing his complexion and the poverty evident in his skinny limbs. Well then, what have you to say? Ong asked his closest confidant. Or did you simply wish to share in my company? he teased. Nepa chortled but shook his head, becoming solemn again. There are stirrings again. About clean water. Zone 3 he muttered. The slums on the outskirts of Omashu were informally divided into 5 zones, each representing a chunk of the circular perimeter of the city that was often home to the citys lower class. It has been so hot lately... he added. Ong nodded. Is there immediate danger? he asked. Nepa contemplated for a moment, then shook his head. I dont think it will become very violent yet, but the health concerns are mounting. I will bring it to the attention of the council. In the meantime, ask the other zones to divert a small fraction of their water to Zone 3. Four is in Threes debt since they absorbed some of their population growth. said Ong. Thank you Nepa. The jolly older man nodded and started along the path to his own house. Before he could get too far Ong beckoned him again. Your family is coming tonight yes? Nepa grinned. Half of the population of the slums is coming, he muttered hyperbolically of course Im going to be there. The poor rarely have cause to drink. When theres really something to be joyful for, how can we miss such a chance? Ong made a face at the mention of the number of attendees to his childrens birthday celebration, which elicited huff of recognition from Nepa. Come now, this is a most joyous occasion. 10 years! Considering that theres two of them it may as well have been 20 he said over his shoulder as he headed away toward his own avenue of the slums. For families in the poverty ridden Zones, a childs 10th birthday was often the only time they celebrated on account of something so trivial as an anniversary of birth. In such disease and turmoil-ridden times as these, almost half of all children died before they reached the age of 10, whether from sickness, malnutrition or as a casualty of war or crime. However, it was widely accepted in the Zones that once a child reached the age of 10, they were much more likely to survive into adulthood. Ong completed his trek to his own house undisturbed. His was a mud-brick abode set on a small hill of earth, set a couple hundred feet away from the rest of the slums and in slightly better condition. This was the only thing that distinguished him as a councilman. Elsewise, the sole representative of the Zones to the city council lived unremarkably, just as his constituency. The house was abuzz with activity. Various women of the community were hurrying about, baskets of dark brown breads in their hands or tablecloths piled in their arms to just below eye-level. Meanwhile children ran about, some helping to carry things here and there and others just getting in the way underfoot. A few men from the slums who were close to Ong were busy smoking meats over a fire, a rare treat. In the middle of all of the commotion stood Leah, Ongs wife and the lady of the house. She was confidently directing workflow despite the chaotic nature of such a ceremony. Usually a childs 10th birthday was a pretty ritualized occasion, a large family gathering. However, considering Ongs position in the community, this celebration was an even bigger deal, with more than a hundred people invited. However, it was not just daddys career which drew such fuss over this particular celebration. Rather, this was the birthday of two very special children...twins. In the city of Omashu, there was much superstition and honor surrounding twins. For reasons undetermined although most definitely relating to pollution and industry the birth of twins was much more rare than it had been in times past. Couple this with high child mortality rate, and rarely did a set of twins live to their tenth birthday. Twins, and especially a boy and girl, were greatly revered because they were believed to represent reincarnations of Oma and Shu, the two lovers of legend after whom the city was named and who were so close in their lives that they were said to be reborn together, at the same instant so that their spirits would never again have to be apart. Because of this, Ongs two children had always meant something important to the community, even if they didnt realize that they did. Seeing Ong, Leah beckoned him with a smile. There you are, my breadwinner. she said, a tease in her voice. As he grew closer the smile dropped and she squinted at him. Youre late she scolded. Ong cupped his hand over his ear as though he hadnt heard. What? Leahs coy smile returned as she kissed her husband. I said, youre late. Your children are in the house, but be careful, your mother is in there too and shes refusing to let anyone watch while she gets them ready Ong nodded knowingly and brought the bag of rice hed been sent out to acquire into the kitchen. The room was small and filled way past capacity with women fixing dishes and boiling water. It was a veritable sauna packed with people and Ong breathed a breath of relief once hed made his way through the claustrophobics nightmare. Hed left the bag of rice in one of the older ladys hands, one who looked like she was at least kind of in charge. He certainly had to hand it to those women who worked with a single-minded determination to make this celebration a success. That kitchen was nothing short of an inferno. Making his way through the cooler part of the house, he went down a hallway only to be met almost immediately by his mother, a small woman with fierce eyes and a loving smile. She was not to be underestimated in most endeavours, as he had learned much later than he really ought to have. Now mother, I know what you're going to say but they're my children and I think I have a right to wish them a happy birthday before our neighbors! he came out guns blazing. You really had to catch her off guard, he'd noticed, otherwise she was stubborn as a mule-turtle, although he'd never quite understood that saying. Ong's mother patiently waited out his tirade with one eyebrow raised. Relax, she said gently They're ready. Ong smiled sheepishly and edged past her toward the twins' bedroom. I don't know who you think you were talking to with that attitude Ong, certainly not the woman who gave birth to you and raised you she called after him. Myr and Hiko stood before him, smiling up at their father. The twins were dressed in their finest dress clothes. For Myr, these were a shimmery kimono-like robe that had been handed down through the family and silk-slippers. Hiko was dressed in a black hakama, and a navy blue top which bared his chest. Most remarkable about the children though, was what his mother had done. Myrs arms were bare, but extremely intricate designs passed down through the family as an heirloom adorned her tan forearms and halfway up her biceps. Her eyes were daubed with a gentle reduction of a black-juiced berry to make her eyes appear more sly and wise. Her cheeks, just losing their baby fat, were delicately powdered. Hikos face and all of his visible skin was adorned with thin white lines of heiza, an herbal mixture that smelled of a masculine musk. The designs, though markedly different from his sisters, were equally as complex. They gave his skin the appearance of having been chiseled, as though cut from the earth itself. Ong smiled back down at his children. He was momentarily filled with happiness at their vitality and the promise in their eyes and, at the same time, melancholy that they had been born into such a troubled world. Daddy the kimono itches my belly Myr said, expertly although inadvertently diffusing the moment. Ong laughed at her and ruffled her hair. You look pretty though he assured her. Myr turned and examined herself in the small mirror that rested against the wall in the twins shared room. She moved from side to side and looked over her back too. Well, thats true. she agreed, smiling a toothy grin. I look like a princess Hiko flexed his essentially nonexistent muscles. I look like a man! he growled. An earthbending fighter! he exclaimed. Yeah right! Myr said, rolling her eyes as Ong shot Hiko a scolding glance. To be an earthbender...things were not as simple as they had been in Ongs fathers times. Well then, everyone will be here in a few hours so try not to smudge your heiza or dirty your clothes. You can be the official tasters for whatever they are making in that kitchen he said, trying to give them an incentive to stay inside. It was best that at least most of the guests see them first when they make their appearance later that night. Oh, and happy birthday he said, remembering on his way out. He knelt and gave them both hugs. I love you When he stepped back outside the grounds had become doubly as busy, something Ong hadnt thought possible. A few makeshift tents had been erected on the grounds and lanterns hung from each of their supporting poles. The sun had begun its descent and everywhere people buzzed with the excitement of celebration. It was going to be one hell of a party. Nepa was right, the people of the slums rarely had reason to come together and celebrate. This wasnt just a birthday party, but a celebration that somewhere, in the midst of a broken world, there could still be hope.