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[lifethatisscratched]

Once upon a time, there was a party by the lake.

Someone at that party called Ratonhnhaké:ton smelly.

As a direct consequence, he is nursing a scabbed knee with an anger in his eyes and one of his hands clenched into a fist.


He is not smelly.

[OOC: It's close to 0300 PST, and the mun's heading to bed. Tags will be picked up when they can.]

Comments

[onceholyknight]

"Ratonhnhaké:ton, what's wrong?" Michael asks, looking down at him with concern. "And what happened to your knee?"

[lifethatisscratched]

"I got in a fight," he mutters, clutching his knee to his chest.

It's muttered mainly because with some time between him and Porthos, he's realized just how...well. Silly the motivation was.

[onceholyknight]

"With another boy?" Michael guesses, then frowns. "Or with somebody bigger?"

[lifethatisscratched]

Ratonhnhaké:ton shakes his head. "Someone bigger. A fat man called Porthos. At the gathering with many people."

A beat, as he hugs his knee to his chest.

"...he called me smelly."

[onceholyknight]

"And he let you fight him?" Michael demands, incredulous with an edge of anger. "A grown man? Also, you are not smelly."

[lifethatisscratched]

Ratonhnhaké:ton shrugs. "It wasn't much of one," he admits. "I hit him between his legs and he shoved me into the dirt a few times. That's when I got this," he says, pointing to the scab on his knee.

[onceholyknight]

"It wasn't much of one because it wasn't remotely fair." Michael is still frowning deeply. "I think I may have to have a word with this Porthos. But first, let's get your knee cleaned."

[haventlosthope]

"Hey."

Katara has been taking advantage of the opportunity to practice waterbending in something not swamp water, and so by contrast is in a fairly good mood when she approaches the boy.

Still, it's gentle when she asks, "Are you okay?"

[lifethatisscratched]

"I'm fine."

It's muttered, and his head is bowed - mostly because, without Porthos around, he doesn't have anyone to focus his anger on, and it crumbles.


"I got in a fight."

Mother's not going to like it if he comes home looking like this.

[haventlosthope]

"Really?"

She takes a seat down next to him, then nods toward his knee.

"Do you want some help with that?"

[lifethatisscratched]

"Okay."

He doesn't say please because at his age a please would sound like begging. He might have gotten licked - but he still has his pride.

He holds out his leg, the scab close enough that Katara can work on it.


Not that he knows how, but.

[haventlosthope]

"All right."

She gives him a smile, and lifts her hands, bending a small stream of water from the skin at her side. It flows through the air to his knee, and begins to glow a bright blue.

"Don't worry," she tells him, hoping to sound reassuring. "I've done this kind of thing a lot."

[lifethatisscratched]

Ratonhnhaké:ton's met Korra once already, so he's somewhat familiar with the concept of bending. He nods once, and holds still.



(Stupid Porthos.)

[hecu_marine]

Shephard got a rare bit of downtime today at home, which he mostly spent tracking Xen things to their winter wallows and dens so that they could be properly marked down on maps. He did take down a headcrab or two along the way, which he'd been planning on hulling at home, but the Bar door had other plans- so there's a muddy, underbrush-scratched white man in camo fatigues, a couple of alien critter corpses hanging from his belt, coming on through the bar.

He stops at the sight of a face he knows, though. "Ratonhnhaké:ton?" he says. "Been a while. How you doin' there?"

[lifethatisscratched]

"...a fat man called me smelly."

Perhaps he bows his head at this, and hugs the affected knee a little closer to his chest.

[hecu_marine]

"Then he's an asshole," says Shephard. "You're fine, far as I can tell."

Subtlety isn't exactly his strength.

"You git hurt or somethin'?"

[lifethatisscratched]

He nods. "A little."

At this, he pulls his pants leg up to reveal his scraped knee.

[hecu_marine]

"Huh," says Shephard, crouching down to have a look. "Want some help cleaning that out? Might sting a little, but it'll git better faster."

The boy's what, four? Even six year olds don't always remember to wash out their cuts and get bandages.

[lifethatisscratched]

He nods. "Okay." He tugs the pants leg up a little higher and move his leg so Shephard has better access to the wound.

"Mother tells me to use water from the basin most times."

[herr_bookman]

Autor floats by on his carpet and peers over the edge. "Want a ride?"

[lifethatisscratched]

"...no."

Where the heck did you even get that thing, Autor?

[herr_bookman]

"Okay," he says, and the corner of his lip lifts a little. He glides down to let the boy get a better look at the carpet, if he likes. "I can put it away, but I've ah, messed up my knee. Seems we're a pair."

[lifethatisscratched]

How do you always manage to make Ratonhnhaké:ton whip out the o_0 face within ten seconds of meeting him, Autor?

"But how did you make it so?"

[herr_bookman]

He put a lot of points into that skill.

"I didn't make it," he says calmly, leaning back and lacing his fingers around his non-messed up, bent knee. "I bought it. On a moon."

Cue more o_0 in three, two...

[lifethatisscratched]

o_0

And then -_-.

In his best 4-years-old-so-I-know-everything voice:

"You can't buy things on moons."

(Honestly, Autor.)