if the spit hits the fan, you got brothers around

As it turns out, there's this little concept called 'unnecessary force' that Korra's already stepped into without intending a couple of times since she started work as a dispatch. It's not while on the job that Korra creates problems — aside from an occasional tendency to grow overly excited upon listening to chases, anyway — but when she's on her own hours, keeping a sharp out for thieves and muggers in the city, sometimes Korra gets a bit too enthusiastic in taking them down. Hurting them is never her goal; she's never enjoyed taking the fight completely out of a person, always preferring to think that either they can be rehabilitated or at least brought down without causing a scene. Ideally, her hardest punches would only ever be in times of direct need.

But, truth be told, sometimes she forgets that people don't know to expect in Darrow what she's capable of doing. The looks on their faces when she breaks out her waterbending aren't those she'd soon forget.

Seated at her desk, Korra sighs. It's a slow day, which she's grateful for, but still, she can't help the continued feeling of shame she gets at not fully understanding the workings of the city yet, no matter how hard she tries. Grasping the written language has been slightly easier after learning that the alphabet is one used phonetically.

It's painting the full picture that always seems to be the most difficult part.

Resting her chin in the palm of her hand, Korra stares at the glass of water by her side, fingers shifting slightly to help bend the surface of it. Nothing showy, nothing that anyone would notice without a very close eye for detail, just a small, glass-sized waterpool in the center that pulls down a few shards of ice down to the bottom.

"I'll get it," she says to herself with some wavering resolve. "I swear, I'll figure all of this out soon."