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[h2] [color=82ca9d]Laoshan Fang[/color]
Ba Sing Se, 8 Path Prison: Northeast. [/h2]

Mentions: [@Bluetommy][@Rokoran][@Dusty]

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Move as a unit.

That was one of the first rules that Laoshan had tried to drill into his small group of militant airbenders back at the Eastern Monastery when they decided to learn strategy with him. Stay together, or you’ll be split apart and hacked to the ground. Sadly, no one ever saw fit to teach this lesson to Laoshan’s stomach, something he had learned the hard way over the course of dozens of prison escapes and hundreds of hangovers. Bearing this in mind, the monk tried his damndest to maintain momentum as he dodged General Fang’s offensive thrust. The former prisoner didn't break stride as he was assaulted, leaping atop the stone as it moved, quickly kicking off of the projectile and launching himself over the wall as the missile was forced to the ground. He rolled one way upon his introduction to the ground; his stomach rolled another. Rolling was bad, rolling was VERY bad. A wave of nausea came over Laoshan as he popped to his feet, the world spinning around him as he forced the bile back down his throat. [color=82ca9d]“Keep moving, keep moving…”[/color]

Escape. Righting himself, Laoshan immediately dove into an adjacent alley, using the earthbent wall as cover for his escape. The large man bulldozed his way through a series laundry lines, rain barrels, one cooling pie, and a slumbering drunkard with something in her hands. He ignored the alley-drunk's protests as he plowed through her designated sleeping alley, snagging whatever bottle she had been cradling in her hands as he went. [color=82ca9d]"You shouldn't drink this, it'll kill you, trust me I know!"[/color]

Laoshan emerged from the alleyway, his knuckles white around the bottle of heaven and his lip still bleeding. He wasn’t alone. There were teenagers, two of them. One a woman and the other a young man, both with the look of 'Fire nation tourist' plastered on their faces. Odd. Glancing down, the airbender saw the food stains, vomit stains, and blood stains absolutely coating his tattered sack clothes. The tooth from earlier was still buried in his hand, and somehow he had managed to accidentally steal a solid dress's worth of torn fabric as he plowed through the passage. Between that and the alcohol, he could make something work for a disguise and his headache. That boded well. For the time being, however, his head still pounded and that sturdy earthbending woman was still on his trail.

Laoshan flashed a quick, dirty smile to the two kids, all too aware of what he looked like, and bolted down the new road like An himself were after him, his stride turning from a shifty, side-to-side jog to huge, bounding leaps. The wind swept down to meet him, moving air caressing his body and carrying him to greater speed and height. Whip him bloody and call him Nan, it was good to stretch his legs again!