🪙 — Varrick spent the last hour intensely scrawling away precise lines and shapes on the paper in front of him. He just had to make the best out of his productive phase.

"GLAD you're asking! This will be the prototype for the ergonomical and adjustable Anti-Backpain-Chair! FASCINATING, right? A surprise for my lovely wife!"

Varrick abruptly moves very close to Iroh and jabs his index finger against the other's chest. Trying to seem more intimidating than he really is. (See, he can seem threatening if he WANTS to, but he doesn't want to risk getting burned here.)

● — || Don’t mind him watching Korra and Iroh go at it for literally no reason .

🪙 — From the moment they step into the abandoned underground laboratory, Varrick shows absolutely no concern. If anything, he looks oddly comfortable, like someone just walked him into a childhood memory instead of a decades-old safety hazard.

"Oh relax. The only crazy scientist being present with you right now is me. So as long as you don't have me inspect dangerous vines with a tendency of exploding into someone's face, we're probably fine." He is just joking. Or is he?

Varrick then, completely disregarding any reaction of sorts, takes a few casual steps forward, surveying and mentally cataloguing every screw, wire, and design in the room, flaws and all. His eyes catch on a dusty old radio perched on a dirty desk.

"This place has been abandoned for at least five years. You see this? Totally outdated model with barely any reception underground. Honestly, whoever set this up didn't know what they were doing." He steps closer to said outdated device and scrutinizes it with narrowed eyes. Something seems to bother him about it, but he averts his attention from it just mere moments later and instead points at the intercom panel mounted to the wall.

"And that interface? I'm no mining expert, but I'm pretty sure mining labs were ordering and using that model… hmm, five, six years ago. Tops. Combine that with the dust— seriously, just look at that layer, you could sculpt a miniature badgermole in it! It's pretty clear they walked out in a hurry when the ore veins around them dried up."

Send me a "ᕙ( •̀ ︿•́ )ᕗ" and my muse will react to yours, challenging them to a fight.

Ila couldn’t help but be amused. Iroh really challenged her? Okay. Bring it on, she thought. Like a predator, she circled him, taking in the changes. He was taller now, shoulders broader, his stance more grounded. Her eyes were locked on his face as she bit her bottom lip—those dimples, Spirits, too adorable. What are you doing?! Girl, snap out of it! A quick shake of her head, chasing off these... feelings. Her lips curled into a smirk. “Alright then,” she said, her voice laced with a playful edge. “Come and play.” Her heart was already beating faster in anticipation. This was going to be good.

                                        “ a penny for my thoughts ? you know I am not one to share my scattered mind. “ the dragon exhaled slowly, fingers continuing their work on the dwarf’s long mane. to delve into the things that raced in her skull would take months ; years, even, unraveled bit by bit. a curse of the crown, you see. as prideful & stoic as adrastia was, empress of fire -- her worries are well-concealed behind centuries of hardening and the need to keep face for her people.

                “ --- that comes as a surprise to me. “                                  the dragon replied, softly so, as she allows her head to lean atop her raised shoulder. the flirtatious attitude, charming grins & sultry words, simply part of his guise. an act, only true for those he let close enough       ( like the lingering beast before him, who smelt of ash & wine & the blood of men before him. )             even still, she can see him faltering, melting at the hands of the empress herself. an affect she took great advantage of, in ways lacking vindictive revenge. it was pure playfulness, stemmed from a form of deep affection the dwarf has borne within she.