[ For one surreal moment, Hei wonders if the Hands off, creep was directed at him. ]
[ But no. It's just some mop-headed idiot in an expensive blazer, perfectly groomed three-day facial stubble and a spaced-out smile on his face. There's a very brief, very sharp flare of temper. Hei's energies are always looking for an outlet. For a pleasant moment he considers breaking the guy's arm in two, shoving one half down his throat and the other up his ass, and putting the whole thing back together inside his chest. But that would get him and Korra in trouble, and then some. The last thing he's interested in is a juvenile club fight. ]
[ Instead he leans across to take hold of the guy's free wrist. He stares at Hei, annoyed, and tries to yank free. Eccentric hand and forearm strength is one of the consequences of a lifetime of near-daily martial arts, and most soldiers in Heaven's War did additional exercises to augment their grip -- enough so that they could crush an apple in one hand if they wanted to. This time, fortunately for Stubble Boy, Hei doesn't want to. But he lets him know he can. Quietly and clearly, so the guy reads his lips, he says, ] Don't do that again.
[ Stubble Boy looks like he's going to protest, but a little more pressure on his wrist and the flat look in Hei's eyes makes him think better of it. ] Jesus, you don’t have to get so huffy![ he yelps with a wince. Hei stares at him for a moment longer, then releases his wrist and turns back to Korra. The guy shuffles off, grumbling a stream of racial slurs extra loudly to try to restore some of his damaged pride. Shaking his head, already largely forgetting him, Hei says to Korra, ] A break for drinks? Then more dancing? [ It's clear she's not ready to part ways with the floor too soon. ]
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[ But no. It's just some mop-headed idiot in an expensive blazer, perfectly groomed three-day facial stubble and a spaced-out smile on his face. There's a very brief, very sharp flare of temper. Hei's energies are always looking for an outlet. For a pleasant moment he considers breaking the guy's arm in two, shoving one half down his throat and the other up his ass, and putting the whole thing back together inside his chest. But that would get him and Korra in trouble, and then some. The last thing he's interested in is a juvenile club fight. ]
[ Instead he leans across to take hold of the guy's free wrist. He stares at Hei, annoyed, and tries to yank free. Eccentric hand and forearm strength is one of the consequences of a lifetime of near-daily martial arts, and most soldiers in Heaven's War did additional exercises to augment their grip -- enough so that they could crush an apple in one hand if they wanted to. This time, fortunately for Stubble Boy, Hei doesn't want to. But he lets him know he can. Quietly and clearly, so the guy reads his lips, he says, ] Don't do that again.
[ Stubble Boy looks like he's going to protest, but a little more pressure on his wrist and the flat look in Hei's eyes makes him think better of it. ] Jesus, you don’t have to get so huffy! [ he yelps with a wince. Hei stares at him for a moment longer, then releases his wrist and turns back to Korra. The guy shuffles off, grumbling a stream of racial slurs extra loudly to try to restore some of his damaged pride. Shaking his head, already largely forgetting him, Hei says to Korra, ] A break for drinks? Then more dancing? [ It's clear she's not ready to part ways with the floor too soon. ]