As far as things went in the land of Aaa, it was shaping up to be a pretty average day for the human adventurer. Making her way through the candy forest on a trip to visit the Prince, she paused suddenly. Wait.. what the heck was that? 
Holy crud, something was shaking up the ground like crazy! Confused, she quickly shoved her way through the bushes, looking for the source of the noise. She peered over curiously into a clearing to see a pretty young looking girl with her arms folded, she seemed frustrated about something.

“Hey!” Fionna waved, “Uh, sorry- d'ya know what’s up with all these earthquakes?”

Taang: Our Teenage Years

It had been four years after Sozin’s Comet and thankfully, all seemed to had blown over at this point. But of course, the Avatar’s job was far from done. He had to rebuild the nations and restore order to a world stricken by a hundred years of war. It was truly a lot of pressure. But, whenever pressure got to too much, he knew he could always come to Toph for some fun. He knocked on the door to the Bei Fong residence and waited for her to open up.

asktophtheearthbender: Starter!


A girl, around souls age, walked down the street and heard the sound of metal clanging and banging. About when she reached where the sound was coming from, she felt a bit of extra weight on the ground, but kept walking.

She noticed Soul, resting from working to the bike. Slowly, she walked up behind him. “Need any help with that ride?”

“Huh?” Soul responded, shading the sun from his eyes with the back of his palm as he addressed the oddly dressed girl.

“..nah, I’m cool. Thanks, though.”

asktophtheearthbender : STARTER!

Crank.. crank. Clack… Crank. Went the gears on the underside of his bike as the scythe worked his wrench around the loose nuts and bolts. It was cool outside, but not rainy or too cloudy; a perfect day for a tune up. He really oughta change the oil… but that could probably wait for a little while longer. His chain, however, could not; it was in dire need of a greasing, as dirty a job as it was.

He lay on his back in his filthiest pair of blue jeans, splayed on the warming sidewalk in front of the flat he shared with his Meister, swiping a rag between his oil-smeared hands; no way to fix up a motorcycle without getting down and dirty.