“Miss. Excuse me. You there.”
Tahno kept walking, not really registering that anyone was talking to him. A metal cable snaked around his wrist, and he remembered. Right. The dress. Miss.
“Am I doing something wrong, officer?” he asked, not even bothering trying to sound female. He was a man in a dress, okay. People shouldn’t make assumptions.
The officer seemed unsettled. “Sorry, sir. Just a routine check. Curfew, and all. Please confirm that you’re a bender.”
“Oh, I’d love to,” Tahno said. “but I’ve been having a little problem with my waterbending lately. You understand.”
“Please demonstrate some bending, or I will have to take you in.”
“Don’t you know who I am, idiot?” Tahno slurred. He felt the cable get painfully tight on his wrist. “I’m Tahno, of the Wolfbats. Amon took my bending. If you think I’m an Equalist, you’re out of your fucking mind.”
“The law says that all non-benders must be indoors by curfew,” the officer said. “No exceptions.”
“I’m not a non-bender you twit, I—ow, is this really necessary?” Tahno said, struggling with the cable. “Look, I’m already much too drunk to be a threat to anyone, and I was just heading to the liquor store so I could pass out in bed and wake up in a pool of my own vomit. If you can explain how that’s in any way a threat to anyone’s bending, I’ll come with you willingly.”
“You’ll come with me, willingly or not,” the officer said, retracting the cable to draw him closer.
Suddenly, the cop lurched forward, and a man stood behind him, holding a wooden nightstick heroically. “Come with me, non-bending sister!” he said, grabbing Tahno’s hand and dragging him down an alley.
“Slow down, I can’t run in these heels,” Tahno said, and the man gave him a startled look.
“You know, I thought you were pretty before, but now I’m even more interested,” he said.
Tahno sighed. “I just lost a bet, okay.”
The man brought him to a crowd of protesters, and Tahno used the opportunity to slip away from him. Now, if he could only get away from this mess and find his way to the liquor store…. But there were cops on every exit.
Next thing he knew, the blockades were being bent around them, and he was pressed against a bunch of smelly, angry non-benders. Oh, fuck me, he thought. I’m never going to get that drink, am I. And I’m going to jail in a dress. Why is there no liquor in jail? That’s what we should really be protesting. I demand reform!
He thought he saw Korra, somewhere amongst the cops. He turned away, hoping he hadn’t been recognized. The outfit helped, admittedly. He glanced back. Korra was looking right at him. Fuck.
The cops earthbent them into the air, and Korra slammed them back down. Tahno felt the lurch go through his sick, drunken body. The railing squeezed tighter against his abdomen and he threw up in the crowd and all over his nice pumps.
I am so not drunk enough for this.