( the praise just serves to make him a bit self-conscious about it. he shrugs absently, and the rocks get pocketed again as he gets back to work at the stove. )

It's still something from my world. I'd be out of my depth if I had to adjust to something else entirely.

( mako's a workaholic at heart. the man sleeps under his work desk, for crying out loud. even if he would have gotten some other ability, he'd be on track to master it as well.

the music makes him raise an eyebrow. it's not like anything he's heard in republic city, strange instrumentation and cadences. )

You're a songwriter, right? It suits you.