We all know Etuwa isn't really respected in her clan as Tsahík, (idk if thats changed in the from the ashes dlc i didnt play it). She doesn't have the authority and id say they dont even acknowledge her as Tsahík.
I was originally thinking about Tsahík designs in the game vs the movies. I'm not a fan of her design in particular. It doesn't feel like she is the Tsahík. Originally, before I started playing, I thought Nefika was the Tsahík. She has this giant cape that makes her feel like royalty, while Etuwa looks like a warrior. By looks alone, I'd never guess that she is more than a warrior.
Tsahíks in the movies usually wear these few things that mark them as who they are. Necklace with the needle (or just the needle like Varang does between her tatas), a head/forehead piece and the uni braid (two braids made into one like Mo'at wears on her front or Ronal on her back). All three Tsahíks we've got lack the needle (which is understandable because they're doing stuff and it's a detail blah blah) and as far as I'm concerned the uni braid. But both Minang and Anufi have these accesorries that serve as rhe headpiece, something that shows their connection to Eywa. Anufi's pretty obvious, though it may not look Tsahík-specific and Minang has beads in her hair and bones. Etuwa does not, she only has the thing íkran riders wear.
I thought it may be due to her fighting the sky people often, making ot impractical or not to be a high-value target. Ronal did the same. However what I find interesting is that her father wear one. It's not uncommon among clan leaders, we can see it with Omaticaya or Akwey (Olangi clan). However, could it perhaps mean that he also performs more of the spiritual advixe to the clan members? Like, as in taking over her work.
Tamtey had switched out care with Ri’nela and had been there when Anufi called it, and she helped move the elder out of her bath and onto the mat and pat her dry and change over the bandages. Yet the woman did not wake. Even when morning came, and Ri’nela appeared, refreshed, to take over though Tamtey sat off more to the side than leave.
While Rasi wasn’t entirely with them, and not fully conscious, she had noticed that… when she had moved, she favoured towards the warmth of skin. Her head leaned towards a hand a fraction, a hand tightening around something placed or close to her grip. Tamtey was tempted to sit close by and let her lean against her but though better of it; when she comes to fully, there was a high chance she’ll freak out.
Still, Tamtey was pushed out a few hours before noon to rest and begrudgingly left, yawning as she made her way back to their designated room.
So’lek was in there and looking at a collection of wax tablets and pieces of RDA tech with a passive frown. His eyes flickered up to her in her arrival, then back down. “<How is Rasi?>”
“<Not awake, but better>” Tamtey said, sitting down. “<Very touch-starved… which isn’t a surprise.>”
“<Once she is aware, she’ll reject touch.>”
“<I know.>” She suspected as much. As much as Rasi herself wanted to push people away, she was still desperate for connection. For touch and people. Na’vi were social people by nature. They craved connection. If not to people, then Eywa. Which probably explained why she was still alive after so long of self-imposed isolation. She had a Tarsyu.
So’lek nodded once, “<Tsu’lo is planning to bring Rasi’s Ikran here. He believes she’ll be more relaxed to know her bonded is close by.>”
“<Something she can still escape on.>”
“<She will need that comfort to know.>” So’lek pressed. “<Knowing that there is an escape is important. The idea of being trapped… is not one she should experience again. We may be trying to help her, but the Ikran is a long-term companion and comfort to her. It may cause her more distress to let her think she’s backed into a corner.>”
Tamtey nodded, reluctantly. Yeah, that made sense. It would… be safer too. If Rasi did escape, was it better for her to escape on her Ikran or to risk death by trying to climb down in her current state? Of course, she still had to get past the guards at her medical room door, the clan inside Sheltering Falls and the people before the Ikran. Escape was unlikely, just not impossible.
“<What if she does escape?>”
“<Then I will find her.>”
Tamtey’s head tilted towards So’lek at his statement. It was not ‘we will find her’ it was ‘I will find her.’ Him. Just him. Like they weren’t included in that. Rasi was a Sarentu, it should be a Sarentu to bring her home.
But, then she felt the welt of guilt in her stomach at that, because…. So’lek had been through much like Rasi. She was a reflection of loss that he shared. Both of them old enough to remember life before the RDA, before their clans were gone. They Sarentu kids had been too young to truly know the losses. He knew her, in a way that surpassed them, to know where she could go and how she would behave. He had walked her dark path and found connection where she was still in the shadows, wanting but now allowing it for herself.
“<It is also a sign of trust for Rasi. To know that she can be free. That they are not withholding her Ikran from her. Zat has only wrapped the ends of Tanhì’s kuru but that stops a sudden and quick bond and bolt.>”
Tamtey nodded slowly but her head turned as she saw Teylan hurry in, looking very chipper and happy with himself as he held out… a hand carved item. It was clearly of his creation. Shaped that… could possibly be an Ikran or could be a sting bat. It was hard to tell. Hand crafting was not his forte, but she wasn’t gonna say it.
“Look what I have made!” Teylan declared. “I made it for Rasi. As a gift.”
“<That’s nice, Teylan.>” Tamtey smiled.
“<I’m gonna leave it next to her for when she wakes up.>”
Tamtey nodded, watching him leave with a hop in his step, clearly excited to gift it. So’lek did not say anything before he picked up the tablets around and set them into a stack.
“Come, I want to show you something.”
Tamtey followed So’lek as he led her from the room but he took her outside and their Ikrans were waiting, so she took to the skies with him, letting him lead the way before he went North West… to a floating mountain. Yet, she could see signs of the Ke’awa as they landed outside of a cave.
“<This mountain is often used for memory paintings. That is above us. Rasi has been living primarily in here.>” So’lek said. “<Imon showed me this place.>”
Inside, it was quiet but aside from displeased sounds and Zot talking calmly. Tanhì, Rasi’s Ikran was curled up close to a pool of water being cared for. Treated wounds along it side. Zot putting together food and offering it out, which was accepted with some Ikran grumpiness.
This cave lived-in and made to be a home. A giant Tarsyu sat here, pulsing and its roots glowing with life despite being so far from the ground. Still connected with Eywa. Oddly enough, it gave her hope. Even those so far from the roots could still be part of the whole.
She could feel Eywa’s comforting warmth. It must have been a beacon of fire for Rasi to stay warm in.
Rasi’s personal belongings were few and far between. Her bow was up on the side, with arrows. A drying rack of meat and other food goods were set aside. Tended to now, so they didn’t spoil but otherwise untouched. Most likely they’d be taken to Sheltering Falls for use. Bones and hide. Yet, there were masses of dry wood and… strings, braids. A dull, stone, hand ball of blue crystal resin that had been painstakingly moulded, cut and smoothened, but unpolished. Tools and fabric that… showed that this was a piece of something. Something she felt in her heart.
Sarentu Totems, she had kept that tradition alive. This was the latest in production, so no doubt there were more out. Something she should look for. Maybe that would give her an idea of her line of thinking, to better understand her.
Tamtey moved, stepping close to the Tarsyu and watched as it opened up, unable to help herself but to take this opportunity to connect with Eywa. Maybe she had more guidance on the matter?
-
So for five days, things had been quiet. So’lek had kept his distance with the Sarentu woman and the kids whilst they adapted, learning how the clan functioned in that time and watched how they targeted RDA in their territory and… he respected how skilled they had become.
He did not doubt their skill as warriors and they were doing it almost the Na’vi way. Their bows, arrows and strategy, but it was clear that their education Alma had given them had taught them on what to hone onto, to understand what was efficient to target and how to undermine the new upgrades the RDA were trying to accomplish. The radio hub, the breakdown of Intel was fascinating and Imon helped decide on what was actionable and what was considered false chatter based on clan scouting. They had been using the wax tablets to take notes on observation which helped increase what they could remember.
The RDA knew there was a leak by now but could not understand where or how.
They had targeted a massive structure with a small unit. Using the SID, they had disabled the RDA’s capacities to call aid to the base and killed off the external soldiers before they shut down and malfunctioned the technology, causing a series of explosions. The land around them that had dulled or were filled with pollution soon came back to life.
The RDA servers were searched by SID and intel downloaded for updates of upgrades. Anything redundant or known was deleted. Anything of interest was saved and put into their cave’s data centre for later if they could afford to wait on it.
The Ke’awa were starting to look at the biggest of the bases, the heart of the operation that was growing into the mountain side. Teylan had worked out with some of the clan that it was a base deigned for creation; the sky ships, metal walkers and weapons could be crafted from that base using a metal machine. A Grinder, he called it. Ugly name. So’lek didn’t know nor care for the details but he knew it was bad enough that the base had to be destroyed.
That was the lynch-pin holding the RDA to this territory. The Ke’awa knew it too. Once that base went, the RDA would have little choice but to abandon the sites without a stronghold. The kids and He were here for Rasi, of course, but he could afford to see the RDA free from the mountains. If Rasi was being extraordinarily difficult, then the RDA was a good stop-gap to focus on for the kids and a breather for Rasi.
Rasi’s recovery was slow, the infection was still being treated despite the break in fever last week, but it meant the course of antibiotic treatments were working well, though they let it process through before her body had completely vanished the infection. But she was becoming more lucid and mumbling more, though did not behave well when they tending to her other needs. She did eat well, which was something. Tamtey and Ri’nela primarily helped by giving her medicinal broth and soups.
But it was no surprise that Rasi shut down when she recognised the mark on Ri’nela’s cheek that morning and began to refuse to talk to the tsakarem or engage with her or Tamtey. So’lek did not think Rasi was going to scream or shout in high emotion to push everyone away, and he was right. She was not violent, even under mild sedation. But Rasi still refused Ri’nela’s soups and offer to change her bandages. When Ri’nela pushed, a little too hard, Rasi hissed. The Ke’awa were barely tolerated but the woman did not hiss at them doing do. It was the Sarentu that sat the woman on edge.
So’lek watched now as Rasi was laid on her side, the uninjured side, facing towards the wall, balled up, her tail flickering and exposed the fact she was awake. She was sedative enough to not consider getting up, but she was healing well enough to not need stronger sedatives.
So’lek said nothing as he stepped into her space, her ears flickering to the sounds of the steps, made purposely loud for her ears and he set down the tray close by. On the tray, there were two bowls of soup. A gourd of juice, a cool cup of tea and small cups of medicine and some berries.
“<It is lunch time. You should eat to heal faster.>” he stated, though he took his own bowl and turned away to eat. “<The medicine and berries, you should eat first; the taste is not pleasant but the soup will wash that away. It will absorb into your gut better.>”
Her breath held for a second, moving slowly and he felt her eyes on him as he sipped from the bowl. He said nothing, not even as she sat up, struggling with her arm that was otherwise strapped to her middle to keep her shoulder straight but heard when she took one of the bowls and sat back around, no doubt with her back to him.
He was not here to open up a discussion. Or to get her to open up but he had to lay foundations with her. He was not any of the clans here, but he cared for her wellbeing. No expectation. Any attempts to engage would result in her shutting him down entirely from any attempts. He did not want that. Trust was delicate. She did not yet know who he was. This would take time.
He finished his soup quietly, though shook his head as Teylan appeared in the doorway with some new doodad in his hands, disheartening the kid’s attempts but at least Teylan took the hint quickly to walk away, even with a pout.
There was silence, but he felt her eyes on him again.
“<Thank you.>” her voice quiet, barely above a whisper. Exhausted.
So’lek said nothing.
-
Every day past, they got closer and closer to the swamp islands. Their island stops got further and far between. Pizza was a little weary of the trip too but she seemed to enjoy it more with her. Seeing the vast different world than the spires.
The morning of the last stretch that they could reach the waters of the northern Swamps, Alma found herself staring up at her tent ceiling quietly of the early morning, woken up early a particular loud crash of water. This was a small island but it was known and used for a Meitayo camp spots, there had been a totem set to display it’s safe location from predators and high tide. Also, as Mäzan said, a signal for the Windtraders how close they were to the clan. On the island, there was a single mauri set ready so they had already crammed in that for the night than open up a tent, even Tabitha choose to sleep in her mask for the night just for the convenience of upping and going as soon as possible.
Each breath of Tab echoed in complementary to the waves. Mäzan was tucked into her side, his breath tickling her shoulder. Her mind churned with anxiety and what would happen later today once they arrived. She couldn’t get back off to sleep, to steal more hours of sleep, it was kinda dark out still.
Later she would meet the Meitayo clan… and she would hand over the evidence of the old war and shift the weight of burden to their leaders, and she would see Mäzan’s home. His friends, his people. His way of life that… she felt suddenly so under prepared for.
It felt like every lesson Mäzan had taught was out the window all of a sudden, like she had learned nothing. A part of her felt like they’d be less forgiving of her past and toss her out without a second thought… that could happen? Right?
“<My love.>” Mäzan’s voice broke the quiet, loud whisper in her ear. “<You are worrying.>”
“How can you tell?>” His hand, she remembered, was around her as he patted her belly… so he could feel her uneasy breathing and… heart rate. Too fast for sleep or rest. Didn’t surprise her to know he was keeping track. He could have woke due to her tail, that was active and between them.
Mäzan shifted, allowing her to roll more to face him. His eyes opening and his expression relaxed. “<You will be accepted, my love.>”
Alma didn’t feel too convinced, even now. “<I’m that obvious?>”
Mäzan smiled weakly. “<Have faith in me to know.>”
Alma sighed deeply, resting her head more against him. “<Any last second warnings I should know about? Culture-wise? In many human cultures, for example a hand-shake is expected as means of greetings but in another culture, a handshake is rude. Is there anything similar that I know in one Na’vi culture that is frowned upon in yours? My anxiety brain is not reminding me of anything important. I don’t want to embarrass myself or you out of ignorance.>”
“<The… significant thing I can think of is touching the beads in another person’s hair without asking, and touching or grabbing of the kuru without permission. Many people that are recovering from amputation are often scared of people touching their growing kuru.>” Mäzan said, wiping his tired eyes though careful of his bruised nose, a week and a half away from being fully healed now. “<Anyone who grabs another kuru without accord, especially in rage, are reported to the Tsahìk and are punished accordingly.>”
Alma nodded slowly. That made a lot of sense. The Kurus even with the other clans weren’t something you just touched freely. It was a part of someone’s body, but here it was stricter. She’d not fault that. She had to imagine though… a regrown one had to be delicate and treasured.
“<Why… why does your clan know how to heal kurus after the war? Why was it needed?>” She asked, because that had been a wonder since they were told about the Meitayo’s gifts. It was a specific healing technique and not something that comes about randomly.
Mäzan’s eyes opened more, sleep vanishing from his face to a weighted frown. “<During the war, a handful of the Zeswa who lost family in a retaliation strike targeted harm specifically on the kuru. They didn’t cut high enough to kill someone, but still severed some kurus or cut into the kuru enough with intent to cause life-long pain. There were a sizeable amount of young warriors that survived after the war and had to be treated for those wounds. Eywa showed the Tsahìk the way. The Zeswa that took part in the mutilations that did survive the war were…. exiled for extreme actions and the story goes that they went to the Mangkwan.>”
Alma swallowed uneasily. She was… glad to know even the Zeswa as a whole saw that as unacceptable, even in a time of war. That even Eywa disapproved and had to show them how to repair it.
“<I’m sorry.>”
Mäzan sighed deeply. “<Actually, the touching and rebraiding of kuru that happens between people is more… private. No one is to do it around many people outside of family>. In comparison, Sex is considered less Prudent than the act of handling a kuru, especially an exposed one.” He finished off in English, mostly due to the word ‘prudent’, there wasn’t an exact translation that shared the weight and meaning.
“<Wait, sex is an open topic but not the kuru?>”
Mäzan snorted a little. “<Yes.>”
“<Does that mean people openly talk about their sex lives?>” Alma pressed because… she was really not used to that. Seemed very important to know. Comparatively, it did sound odd, a body part vs procreation.
Mäzan gave pause. “<Yes, somewhat. Most commonly spoken between the young and mid-age adults. Sex means more opportunities for babies, our clan’s need for more children the early days brought down the awkwardness between the topics to the point its casual talk in current days. Children can occur out of mated couples for wanting surrogate parents as long as the lineage is tracked to prevent family blood mixing.>” Mäzan said, “<Sex as acts between partners are more encouraged, as it shows a tight bond between two people and shows a strong foundation for a family to grow from.>”
Alma sucked on her teeth. “<So… if you and I go ahead, everyone else is gonna hear about it?>”
“<Some families can choose to be more private.>”
“<Is this a topic we should be talking about this early?>” Nasyì’s voice echoed after a heavy sigh.
Alma froze, feeling a heat wash through her cheeks. She completely forgot about other company.
“<Actually I was kinda getting into that.>” Tabitha said, sitting up with a yawn. “<I mean, I would have gone there shocked and blushing with what I consider vulgar topics. It’s nice to get a heads up about their normal. Now, my question, how open is the discussion? Kinks spoken about across the fire? Like there’s a lot of personal details that can get spread around here. How much of our sex lives are about to become other people’s gossip?>”
Even Tseke had woken up, though they didn’t look too invested, they seemed somewhat amused, though the question did make them look to Mäzan to answer because… they might stay and be part of that.
“<Personal kinks and preferences are private. The act itself is private.>” Mäzan clarified. “<the fact that you’ve had done the act is not, as often it is visible in the hickeys are not masked or concealed. Nail markings aren’t covered up. Good sexual markings are remarked in a positive light. To get marked by making your partner ‘happy’ is a good sign.>”
Tabitha hummed. “<And… modesty?>”
“<There is modesty and an expectation of clothing. Nudity and bodies are not sexualised as they are in human culture.>” Mäzan finished.
“Okay, that’s all I need to know. Thanks.” Tabitha put up a thumb and lay back down with a heavy sigh that resonated through the mask filter. This seemed to be the sign for everyone who was awake, to get back to resting for the next few hours before the light forced them out and moving. Alma closed her eyes to settle back to sleep at the very least now the conversation had honestly derailed her anxiety. While she wasn’t… fond of the concept of people knowing, she suppose it didn’t matter if everyone was in the same boat. She’d see how it all was when they got there.
-
Mäzan lead the way.
Afternoon had the sun lower in the sky but they had pushed past the last break to reach the islands and everyone was eager to get home. Tseke and Alma, they rode at the back. Fayfa and Nasyì took the lead behind Mäzan and for now, it allowed the clan to focus first on Mäzan’s return.
Soon, the islands came into view.
Three massive islands, actually that were only connected by the mass of swamp trees and flora. Each island had a prominent hill, and a wide veritably of tree heights. A Hometree sat comfortably on each one with still plenty of room for more, although one Hometree was visibly burned but not entirely charred. The largest island was furthest back, and had a series of floating rocks that spiral upwards and outwards over the other islands. Ikran rookery, came to mind.
The second and smallest island they passed over, was flatter and the central island hill dipped down towards a bog in it’s centre that was contained between the forest and rocks before the jungle and swamp appeared around it.
The closer they got, Alma realised quickly how big the trees really were. The swamp jungle was dense but there were taller trees that stood out and yet vast open spaces of brackish water. Between the three islands was an open space of water in a basin like- rock formation, with a single white, willow tree. Spirit tree. Supported by the stone formation and arches, its roots deep into the water, lighting up a mossy-grass shallow basin that connected outwards to the rivers and water between.
Then, they decided down where she could see more fine-details of their home. The Lived-in area becoming more seen.
It was clear the clan did not live in any of the Hometrees anymore.
Between the first two islands were a mixture of boats and Na’vi-made islands, large oval, areas around trees, for structure but each had a reed-exterior holding it together and filled and soil. Some had no trees and standing wooden poles holding the false island in place. Each ‘island’ had crops on, but others hand huts on with boats between them.
The Heart of the clan was on the bigger of the two smaller islands.
The clan’s homes were wooden huts above the wetland water, clinging around tall trees with beautiful preserved bog-wooden platforms and great-vines, massive supports of Na’vi-made living bridges made of woven branches and vines that connected between each tree, vines hung down and were woven into the support. Allowing each tree to connect allow people to cross without needing to get wet. Of course, plenty of boats and canoes, transporting goods between areas too vast or to the false islands.
There were animals too, Alma realised.
Viperwolves, but unlike the ones she was used to seeing, these ones were smaller, stouter in build, longer legs, but the tail was long and flat-paddled liked the entire way down from its back to its tail tip, even a stretch of membrane between its last set of arms carried down smoothly, enabling it to cut easily through the water. Its hide a mixture of green, black and purples. A swimming-able Viperwolf. She couldn’t see finer details before they were past that hunting group, being pursued away from the village by a few Na’vi.
There were… creatures that she could associate with Hogs, or shelled pigs with two large tusks that wandered about, some hunting through waters some treading into dryer lands. There other creatures, but they were gone before she could truly see them.
Mäzan led them downwards to a vast of open platform built above the swamp waters to what looked like the largest communal hut.
The huts were a mixture of smoothed shaped wooden frames and woven mauri fabric. But Alma would consider it more of a massive hut than a mauri. Open to the world and allowing air to flow through. There was a fire going inside, but their arrival had been long notices with a booming echo of a horn.
People seemed to turn their attention their way and stop what they were doing.
There was a mixture of different bodies. Forest forms, Reef people and the Swamp people, all in one, the same attire, the same tattoos. Revealing how diverse the clan had become in the name of survival, literally and culturally. One half of the faces she could see were of the forest, one fourth was reef and the last fourth was Swamp. There were of course mixed Na’vi, forest colouring but swamp or reef build, vice versa. All part of the same clan.
Their eyes watched curiously, but Alma focused her attention to Mäzan, jumping off Pizza’s back when Mäzan got off his Ikran. The others mirrored him too. A few warriors approached though they greeted Mäzan and the others but it was clear they were waiting for their leader.
Mäzan turned back to them, moving to Fayfa who helped unsecure the ice box from his waist and held it for him as Mäzan also removed a few more items from his tack before he took it back.
In good time too as the clan’s Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk to appear.
The Olo’eyktan was of the swamp, a tall and imposing man with a lot of tattoos that adorned his skin, unlike the people here, his upper lip had also been tattooed, not just how lower lip. His dark hair was cornrowed back but became loose curls, or decorated with beads. His attire was reed and beaded open shawl of blues and greens. His songcord was actually woven into his kuru, showing how long it had become. He was only an inch shorter than Mäzan but shared a lot of physical features.
The Tsahìk was a mixed race woman, Forest colourings of blue but her form was of the reef, so longer paddled tail, tighter-water stripes patterns and bigger strakes down her arms. Her hair was almost entirely up in an intricate bun atop of her head but a few braids hung down either side of her face with an assortment of beads woven along them. She too had tattoos and like her mate, had the upper lips also tattooed a darker blue. She had deep blue eyes and high cheebones.
“<Brother.>” Mäzan greeted, “<I see you.>” he gestured politely before the Olo’eyktan smiled and pulled Mäzan to his chest to a brief… hug of sorts and parted, mindful of Mäzan’s items in his hands.
“<I see you, older brother. Sooner than expected.>” He noted, a note of inquiry. “<You were supposed to see to everyone’s return first before your own.>”
“<I have faith the will make their choices and come back to us but… there was a matter that is more important, but more private for our discussion, Teyfa.>” Mäzan said, sparing a glance to the obvious alien-crafted item in his hands.
Teyfa’s eyes washed about him, them to the rest of them. Alma watched as the Tsahìk moved ahead, examining both her and Tseke for the longest of moments before the woman turned her focus primarily onto Alma…. then Tabitha who up until now had stayed on Pizza’s back to be less in the people’s eyes. Most hadn’t spotted her until now.
“<You are of the skies.>” The Tsahìk noted, her tone light and more curious. Though the woman’s eyes flickered to her hand, noting the extra finger. “<You too, but with a Dreamwalkers form. Interesting… I have not seen a Dreamwalker before.>”
“<There is much to discuss, Tsahìk Nìlayk.>” Mäzan said, “<But first, could you allow us a time to settle in our homes. It had been a long journey. We can talk more once we’ve refreshed.>”
“<Very well.>” Teyfa noted, “<But in taking the Dreamwalker and the sky woman to us, will that lead to future harm to our clan?>”
“<No, brother. The Dreamwalker left the sky people decades ago and her people months ago. We recovered the sky woman from the sky people committing great harm against her. No one but the Ke’awa Kame’tire know this woman is with us.>” Mäzan assured. “<They were not cohered or taken by force.>”
Teyfa nodded, looking more relaxed. “<Your home is how you left it, Brother. Although my children have often snuck to it to hide things or play in>”
Mäzan chuckled softly, unsurprised.
Alma unloaded the Ikrans, with the others. Tseke opted to move to currently with Nasyì rather than Fayfa to avoid the emotional stress of moving in with the guy they were they starting to court properly prematurely. Alma would be living with Mäzan, as would be Tabitha, who would have her tent set up beside Mäzan’s hut.
A few people helped with the other goods, though otherwise dispersed back to their jobs.
“Is this bog-wood?” Tabitha asked, looking at the smoothen, shaped planks under them as they walked a living bridge from the heart of the clan to the a cluster of trees, connected together by a picture of woven walk-ways or wooden.
“<Yes, there is a peat bog that we harvested many wood from our other island. We believe a growing Hometree used to be there before it died, fell, sank down thousands of years ago and is giving much to the clan since it’s discovery.>” Mäzan said, “<Most of our huts and support beams are made of such woods. Hardy in our swamp waters.>”
“I thought bogs and swamps don’t mix.” Tabitha remarked, “I know there’s a difference, but surely they can’t work together.”
“Not impossible.” Alma replied, “A bog can exist next to a swamp. A swamp is fed by rivers or the sea that keeps it nutrient rich. A bog is cut off from that and is stagnated and becomes acidic. It’s only fed by water by precipitation. Different biome demands, but they can exist together, typically side by side.”
“<We believe the bog was once part of a swamp, but the land rose and cut it off from the flow of the swamp.>” Mäzan added, “<Either way, it is a treasured sight for the gifts we continue to find.>”
There was a long pause.
“Find any bog bodies?”
“Tabitha!” Alma gave her middle-aged cousin a sharp look. That was hardly an appropriate question to ask minutes into arriving.
Mäzan just laughed.
-
Mäzan’s hut was larger than expected, though somewhat plain out the outside with a totem resting against the roof, a beaded curtain across the ways and windows. The doorway’s support had beautiful hand carvings.
Above the Mäzan’s Hut, there were two other smaller huts, structures that had woven walkways, enabling them to access the other spaces.
Interior walls was a light in colour, the woven fabrics were clean with blue patterns. It made it feel more open and airy. The ceiling was high, allowing there to be beams across, and allowing items to be hung and decorated from it. Ornamental items, Beaded strings and a section of it was mostly woven across, with a set steps up wards
There was the central heart of the hut, that house the living space; the fire, work tools and easy access to the waterside. A surprising amount of crop sacks inside, which apparently was normal, unused huts were often used for storage spots. Mäzan said others would remove the food items later once they had found a place to relocate them.
The place to sleep was above, opposite the bare beams to the woven area, which Alma saw had a support pole and hammock set up, showing where she’d be sleeping with him.
Then there was the ‘private’ area of the hut which was down only a 2 meter tunnel from the central heart, which she realised when into the tree they were attached to which opened to a small, Six meter diameter space, walls of woven texture of the living wood, moss and lit by only a bladder lantern with other light from the moss. A natural opening rather than a forceful damage to the tree. This space was used for either extra storage, or for sex, depending how far a couple wanted to go for some pleasure. ‘Home’ was easier, but there were apparently areas of beauty most people preferred. Much more open too. But at the very least the tree would contain sound, and easy to clean.
Alma did not linger there long, though Mäzan simply fixed the beaded curtain across it though she could feel his eyes on her as she examined his home. Large, for just a single man. His tools were neat and organised, decoration was beautiful. He clearly loved this place. It smelt nice too. Incense puts were hung about. Fire bowls, though empty, were about, though they sat on what looked like ceramic plates.
“<So… what do you think?>” there was a genuine waver of uncertainly in his voice as he asked. “<This… is my home.>”
Alma’s smiled softly, letting out an assured sigh as she drifted to him. “<It’s beautiful.>” her arms settled around him, hugging him.
Mäzan’s shoulder relaxed, hands on her sides. “<It… will take time for you to settle down… and have your own things here. To make it your home too. There’s enough space for Tabitha’s tent on the platform outside but… I have two storage huts above us. It is where we keep our wood or bones to dry once harvested. One should be large enough to house her once she is breathing our air.>”
“Sweet!” Tabitha was looking about, amazed. “I get to be your attic squatter.”
Pne thing that really bothers me woth avatar is that I'm pretty sure they changed the height of the Na'vi. I can't find it for the life of me but there's this comic panel wherre there is an Omaticaya man sitting next to Grace and he's her height (180cm) when he's sitting!!! He's giant.
Bring back giant Na'vi in all my fics theyre the og size istg
CW/Lore changes: Sarentu were in the cryo for 2 years instead of 16 because oof my heart, therefore So'lek is not a part of the resistance yet. Despite the banishment of humans by Jake Sully, Mercer and some of the RDA are still on the western frontier but there's much less than in the OG game. Nor is the oldest Sarentu at 19, child abuse, We pretend they have private rooms at HQ and don't sleep in a communal place. "<>" is in Na'vi.
WC: 4.4k
Nor has honestly no idea how it all started. He was just trying to get to know the humans in the resistance. Not all tawtute are the same after all. He needed to get comfortable in the place he lived in, even if temporarily. They also wanted Mercer and the rest of the RDA gone, right? He wanted to make sure his world was clean of the before he could allow himself to enjoy it. Duties before pleasantries.
He thought so. It was going so well until they brought you in. Mercer’s daughter.
He was busy thinking when he heard Tamtey’s angry steps coming up behind him. He didn’t even bother to turn to her, his nose smelling blood and metal. “<Our ancestors would be disgusted with us.>” He huffed to himself, his face crinkling.
“<I attacked an RDA base with Priya and Alma.>” She usually was so content, proud of herself after taking such down, yet this time her voice was pumped with frustration. “<Some sort of hospital for the soldiers.>”
“<Is the Resistance lacking in medical supplies?>” He asked with a tired tone at the mention of Alma.
“<No! Well- Yes, but that’s not the point.>” Her tail thumped hard against a rock, earning a wince from the girl. “<We took it down, killed the soldiers, right? I was ready to take medicine they had, but then I saw Alma rush inside some hidden room and run out with someone in her arms! Took them onto the helicopter and said nothing!>”
Tamtey was fuming as she told him this story. He got curious about this mystery person. Seems like Alma is kidnapping people again. But why save some RDA soldier? They would be much better off dead.
“<Why would she rescue anybody?>” He looked at her from the side, his ears all up to listen for more.
“<I don’t know!>” Tamtey yelled. Not at him, just generally needed to scream her emotions out. “<It’s Mercer’s daughter!>”
Nor’s entire body went rigid at that. His vision blurred, all he could focus on was the beating of his own heart and Mercer. “<…Mercer has a daughter?>” The name alone was vile on his tongue. The man who slaughtered Aha’ri, who murdered his people with his cold human hands had a child? Come to think of it, he has heard about it back at TAP, some tiny slivers of information he never cared to listen.
“<It seems so!>” She hissed, her sharp canines grinding on each other.
Fury, even stronger than Tamtey’s, boiled over him. He stood up abruptly and faced the other Sarentu. His tired eyes were fully alive with murderous intent. “<Where is she?>”
She tried to recollect what she remembered, her memory unfortunately focused on her anger rather than details. “<Medbay, I think.>”
“<We’re going to her!>” He declared, his throat straining on his vocals. “<If she is Mercer’s, then she must know where he resides, what his plans are. If not, I’m going to kill her.>”
None of them could reason properly in this moment, blinded by revenge. They jumped down the cliff with Lift Vines, their long, strong legs running to the outpost. Every second of waiting through the airlock doors felt as if a member of their clan passed again.
They gained quite a few looks from the members inside, all met with a hiss from Nor. They might be innocent in all of this, but he is not taking any chances. His heavy footsteps followed all the way to the med bay. Alma was very surprised, shocked, to see the two Sarentu. She was leaving already, stumbling upon them.
“Wait!” She attempted to press her demon hands against their chests. It was clear the word about the new “guest” had spread among them. “Don’t go in there!”
Nor slapped her touch away, baring his sharp fangs. “And why is that?! Do you intend to protect that-” He couldn’t finish the sentence, shoving Alma out of his way.
She decided to fight with Tamtey instead and leave Nor to the medical staff further. Sadly, said staff was not equipped with avatars and therefore too scared to stop the fuming Na’vi. He pushed through the humans, watching for a bed with evil incarnate on it. His knife was ready to use.
To his surprise, what he found was not an evil, female Mercer. Yes, the girl resembled her father by a few aspects; as children do. She was badly bruised, he could see the dark, reddish purple from underneath many band aids she was wrapped in. There were also scars all over her arms, some old, some new. She looked… fragile. Her face was slightly swollen, giving her a gentler look. Definitely not the same cruelty her father rocked on his face.
Tamtey finally caught up, ready to strike, but Nor extended his hand to stop her. She was confused at first, but when she looked down at the girl she understood.
Both stood in silence over her sleeping or perhaps unconscious form, battling their mixed feelings. They should, and did, want her dead by default, but they also could see she went through a lot. Her wounds and scars told a story similar to their own, one of abuse.
She and Mercer were of the same blood, but different soul perhaps.
The Sarentu were taken away from the medbay by Alma. They didn’t fight her on this, too busy processing what they saw. She sat took them outside, to get them a bit of fresh air to hopefully cleanse their heads.
“I know this looks bad…” The dreamwalker started with a nervous tint in her voice, watching out for the Na’vi’s reactions. “But you have to understand that she is not our enemy, her father is.”
“[Name], despite being his child, has also endured his abuse. Those wounds came from Mercer and Harding.” Alma explained with a guilty look on her face. “It got worse ever since I left. We left. But she has been beaten, and worse, by Mercer from a very young age.”
The two Sarentu bristled at the thought. Nor always thought of Sky People as the worst of the worst, however he still struggled with the concept of them raising their hands on their own children, their own flesh and blood. In his mind, family was almost a sacred thing. It should be filled with love and care, like in his old memories. To imagine such violence within it made his gut twist with disgust.
“He’d hurt his own daughter?” He spat.
“Corporal punishment… is commonly used on children. Of course, some take it further than others.” Alma sighed, her own heart clenching for the girl. “Of course, this is a light way to say it. All I ask of you is to leave her alone. She had been through enough and so have you.”
Tamtey nodded with understanding. She did not want anything to do with Mercer or his child for the time being. Nor wasn’t fully happy with this, but decided to let this go for now. Shall anything change, shall she be like her father, he will not hesitate next time.
He and Tamtey went to their camp underneath the metal base. She gently put her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it.
“<Ma Nor, I know it’s hard on you. It is on me too. I don’t want her here either.>” She tried to comfort him. “<But maybe she’s not like her father. I doubt she’d be after what he did to her.>”
Nor was silent for a while, staring intensely into the ground. “<I am nor sure about this. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree (imagine there’s a Na’vi equivalent to this). But yes, she endured much.>”
“<She won’t be leaving the medbay anytime soon in this state.>” Tamtey took her hand away. “<There is time to think. Time to decide.>”
“<We will consult this with Ri’nela when she gets back. As soon as possible.>” Nor raised his gaze. “<It’s better we tell her than if she found out herself.>”
And so they did. Ri’nela was not thrilled about it to say the least. She almost had a heart attack before they explained the state of the girl. Her ears were pinned back the whole time, betraying her displeasure. She agreed that it’s better to wait. The Resistance would not bring an enemy that could actually cause harm. After all, what is a beaten up girl to them?
Teylan, on the other hand, seemed to be happy. His ears perked up even though he truly tried to hide it, seeing the displeasure on his peers faces. When told about Mercer’s abuse of his daughter he became extremely uncomfortable. He’s never liked to talk about his own abuse, that forced him to confront the image that the man has groomed him to see. Hearing about this just forced him to confront it even more. The young Sarentu became solemn after the discussion, retreating back to HQ.
At night, however he returned. Teylan sneaked back into their camp, hoping the others were asleep.
They weren’t.
“<What happened?>” Tamtey sat up in her hammock, peeking at the young Sarentu.
“<That girl – [Name] – woke up. She’s, um… She’s screaming and my head hurts.>” Teylan answered shyly, as if feeling guilty that the girl’s cries were too loud for him.
It was no surprise she was screaming. She had to be in so much pain from her injuries. Besides, she likely wasn’t even conscious when she was taken away. Waking up in a completely different place would be scary for anyone. Nor himself remembers waking up at TAP after the massacre, though it is a blurry, blurry memory.
“<Oh, Teylan…>” Tamtey cooed at him. “<Want to sleep in my hammock with me?>”
“<Yes.>” He smiled at her offer. Cuddling with Tamtey was something Teylan would often do after Aha’ri’s death and it kind of stayed that way. It was comforting for both of them.
Sadly for everybody at HQ, screaming was most of what the girl did for the next few days. Sleep, cry, sleep. The humans were so sick and tired, especially Alma and Nalin, but then they figured out how to change her bandages without waking her up and used more painkillers.
Her face was still in too much pain from her to speak, even if she wanted to communicate with them. She still cried occasionally, but it was much more quiet.
The Sarentu noticed she was much more calm when Alma was around. She seemed to open up to her. When the bruises healed after what felt like forever she was making quiet little conversations with the woman.
Finally, she left the medbay and was moved to a small room upstairs.
Nor watched from the side as you approached Hajir, analyzing your face for any features he could assign to Mercer. Your expression did not make it easy for him.
The unease you felt under his intense gaze showed in the way your brows raised and furrowed or how you would look at him from the side. He couldn’t see much of your father when you looked so fearful. Mercer always had an evil fucking smirk on his face.
You approached Hajir, speaking up with such a weak voice, still a bit raspy. “I’m sorry. For screaming and all that.”
“It’s okay, kid.” He chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Though I admit it was a little excessive.”
“I’m really sorry.” You tried to cheer up a little, but it was hard. Everybody understood why you were acting the way you were these past weeks, but it wasn’t any less embarrassing.
Hajir was very forgiving in that matter, lucky you. He understood the feeling of guilt well, he himself has done things he is ashamed of deeply.
“Don’t be. You were going through a lot.” He nudged your arm. “How do we fix your mood, huh? Can’t be rotting in your room all day.” He looked around for a bit, wondering what to do with you. Then he spotted Nor in the corner, pointing at him. “This is Nor, he’s your age. Go talk to him, socialize.”
You looked at the shocked Sarentu then back at Hajir with wide eyes. Talking to a giant, angry-looking Na’vi was the last thing on your to-do list. Truth be told, Na’vi terrified you. All the stories of these aliens you’ve heard during your time with your father didn’t give you a good impression. Plus, you were sure he was not eager to talk with you either. “Um, I’m not sure about thi-”
“Oh, come on.” Hajir cut you off, then pushed you lightly in Nor’s direction, leaving you two alone.
“Uh…” You started, staring at the Sarentu. Was he really your age? He looked older, at least on the face.
Nor swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry. He tried his best not to scowl. He did not want to do this, talk with his oppressor’s daughter even though he knew she was not to blame, a victim just like him.
He cleared his throat before speaking up to you. He sounded stiff. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”
Your fingers twisted into the hem of your over-sized shirt, hands shaking. You slowly backed away, ready to flee the scene. The medics told you about the incident, that the Na’vi, at least initially, wanted you dead.
Nor could smell and see your fear in the way you behaved. Your smell was sweaty, nervous. You also reeked of soap and disinfectants, something that made his nose wrinkle.
“Your name.” He didn’t come closer, keeping the distance you commanded. “It’s [Name], right?”
“Yes.” You choked on your words, trying to keep your teeth from clacking together.
Nor repeated your name to himself in his head, testing it’s sound. It wasn’t a bad name, even if it was human. Pretty, even, but he wasn’t ready to admit that.
“Mercer is your father.” He stated the fact bluntly. What else was he supposed to do. That’s all he knew about you.
“Oh, God, please…” You sighed. The conversation barely started and you were so tired already. You just wante to leave. Your head felt heavy, tongue awkward in your mouth. “Yes, but please don’t- Biologically. But I don’t want to be associated.”
“He was just as bad to you as he was to me, I heard.” Nor crouched down to seem less intimidating.
Scaring you was not his intention. That wouldn’t get him to understand who you were, which he needed. He felt sorry for you, too much to kill you, but he would if he deemed you a threat.
Ri’nela wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt despite also wanting you dead. She felt it was wrong to kill someone who haven’t even had the chance of being their own self.
“Yes.” You bit your lip, sucking in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry for you, all of you.”
“Then I will try not to treat you as an extension of him.” He decided. It’s not as if you were commanding the tortures he went through. “Children should not pay for their parent’s sins.”
“I’m not a child.” You protested, straightening your back. “Hell, I might even be older than you!”
Nor rolled his eyes, a small smirk of amusement appearing on his stress-ridden face. His ears perked up a little to hear your whine.
“Hey, I’m serious.” You got the Sarentu’s attention back on you, eyes on yours. “I know that I’ve been in a less than… independent state for a while, but I’m not a child and I don’t want to be treated as such.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” He got up and left.
The Sarentu grew accustomed to your presence at base, not as wary of you anymore. One of them, Teylan, seemed to be quite fond of you. He was very happy to meet someone new his age and you weren’t intimidating to him at all.
However his fascination with your father worried you greatly.
He would come find you every day, asking about your sleep, about how you were feeling, and then he’d try to ask how it was with having Mercer as your father. Every. Fucking. Time.
“Please, I’m just curious.” He pressed, the expression on his face so innocent. He didn’t mean to make you sad, or at least pretended not to.
“Teylan, stop.” You held out your hands to stop his questioning. You felt a familiar dread in your stomach, your guts twisting. The headache he was giving you wasn’t unnoticeable either. “I really don’t have anything good to say.”
“Are you sure?” He scooted slightly closer, his yellow eyes searching for yours. “He was such a-”
“I told you to stop already!” You burst out, your tone rising. “How many times do I have to repeat myself until you finally stop?”
The Sarentu boy flinched away. His tail and ears stilled, eyes glassy, but you couldn’t just stop and apologize now. He pushed it. And you’d think he knew not to push after Mercer.
You looked away from his gaze and to the airlock before he could respond. You needed to be away from everyone. Your room wasn’t private enough and outside… was outside. So you went, striding to the metal doors and taking an air mask from the rack.
Teylan did not follow you, just stared apologetically from his crouched position. His ears were pinned so far back he looked more human, just like dogs look more seal-like without their ears. Not that you have ever seen a dog.
The air outside was crisp, not stuffy like inside your poorly ventilated room. It was a breeze of fresh air in the most literal sense. You could smell it through the filter. It could be beneficial for you.
All the times you could actually breathe the air of the outside could be counted on one hand, perhaps even a Na’vi hand.
You rushed forward, trying not to trip on your feet on this uneven ground. The colors were so bright you felt blinded. It was rare that you would see everything this vibrant. Where can you go from here? Where can’t you go?
Daniela told you of this one spot she likes to go to when she needs to collect herself, alone. By the river. Where this river is though is a tougher nut to crack. Well, you can just go forward, for a small walk to experience this world a little and go back. Just not to lose the sight of your tracks.
And so you went, enjoying the sights you normally could only see through a screen. It was scary in a way. This was alien to you, not just because it was not your planet, but because you’ve never really had a chance to stop and just look. It was always in a rush and on filthy RDA places where everything Pandora had to offer was withered.
You spent quite some time walking, slowly getting used to the new textures, smells and everything else. You felt satisfied, but tired.
You decided to hide in the shade of a tree and let your legs rest. It was such a beautiful blue, the same one the Na’vi at base rocked.
Ah, right. Teylan too.
Now that the novelty of the outside world wore off, your mind wandered back to that unpleasant situation. It was not the first time you’ve been a witness to such. It was similar to your experiences with your father, where he would yell at you for the smallest things.
You could not help but wonder; was that part of you his? Was that his cruelty speaking through you? The anger you felt for that guy for simply asking you about your life. Maybe he didn’t want to glorify Mercer but bond over it, find something to get you closer together.
That was also another thing. You felt so lonely. Always surrounded by RDA staff or lately Resistance member, you were never alone. But they didn’t have time to talk to you, some didn’t want to. There was never really anyone that was truly there for you. Did he feel that way too?
You could see how Nor looked down on him for being more “human” than the rest of the Sarentu. He had his reasons for this, you knew that better than anyone. Mercer would always tell you about the Sarentu when he had the chance, as if trying to bond. As you grew, this was a way to haunt you when you disobeyed. You didn’t want the same to happen to you, did you? Actually, when one of them got beaten, it was your fault, because “daddy” can’t take it out on you. He would even show you proof and then… you didn’t want to remember.
You couldn’t sleep on nights like those. Staring at the sky through your window as you wept for your mom.
Speaking of night, you just noticed it was past eclipse. Not too dark, with the bioluminescent flora surrounding you, but it was not daylight anymore. You needed to go back, fast.
Your heart sped up as you jogged uphill, desperate to return before something finds you. You should go… forward? Left? Right? How do you actually come back. You felt the strength leave your form as you reached the top of the mound, looking around.
You sat down, hid your face in your knees, and cried. What else were you to do? You could either get lost more or sit where you were. It wasn’t until a hoarse voice made your head turn. It was Nor, his tall stature almost imposing.
“I didn’t hear you coming.” Your face was red, slightly swollen from this short period of crying. Taking a deep inhale, you lifted the mask and wiped your tears with the back of your hand. “What are you doing here?”
“I was exploring and Priya called me. She said you were gone and to search for you.” He knelt down next to you. “Why are you crying?”
“Well, I had a little clash with Teylan. Not even really a clash, I’m sure he didn’t even intend to make me have such a reaction.” You tried to explain the situation not to feel like you were talking about the young Sarentu behind his back to his friend, brother even. Plus, he could help you get back to HQ. “And so I needed a little space and decided to go outside and as you can see, I got lost. Kidna scary to be out at night here.”
“Is it about Mercer again?” He pointed out. “I think I have heard about this from him.”
“Yeah…” You sighed, eyes digging into the ground. “I wish he stopped asking me about that. Nothing fun to talk about.”
“I can imagine.” He sat down, switching into a more comfortable position. “Compared to you, my knowledge of him must be limited, but I wouldn’t wish him as a father to anybody.”
“Can’t say you’re wrong.”
“I am not good at comforting others. Ri’nela was always better at this than me.” He admitted, putting his large hand on your shoulder. “I was quick to judge you, to think you’re like him. But we both are victims. If you need to talk about this, I will listen.
“Thank you. A lot.” You almost teared up again. It felt good to know you are safe, accepted in a way. Your gaze returned to Nor. “But maybe you could walk me back to HQ first?”
It was the first time you’ve seen him smile. He even let out a small chuckle. A real laugh, not a sarcastic one. It felt like an honor to hear it. “Alright.”
You started to stroll behind Nor, following him not to get lost again. He walked slowly for a Na’vi to let you keep up. Gazing over the horizon, now safe, you admired the beauty of Pandora once more. The red roots you saw earlier were now such a nice shade of teal, quite the contrast.
Still, Teylan was plaguing your mind, so you decided to speak up. “Can you do me a favor?”
“What is it?” Nor turned back to you, his long braid swaying from the movement. You wish you hair was this long.
“Could you maybe tell Teylan to stop asking me about Mercer so much? I tried to talk to him, but he doesn’t listen.” You quickly changed the tune however as you saw Nor’s death stare. “Uhm… Or maybe I’m not clear enough. You’ve known him for so much longer than me, so.”
“Perhaps you’re not.” He didn’t like the implication about Teylan’s obedience, whether you meant it or not. “I will try, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Still, thank you.” You said, sensing that this wasn't a giant offense, just a poor choice of words. HIs anger disappeared as fast as it came.
Back at base, you thanked Nor and went upstairs. The walk back has been actually pleasant. Hoping to get some rest for the night in your room, you’ve encountered worried Alma in her human body, her real body.
“Finally, you’re back!” She exclaimed. “I was so worried about you.”
“I am. I went outside and… got lost.” You answered sheepishly, scratching the back of your head. “Nor brought me back.”
The woman’s expression turned into surprise she tried to conceal. It wasn’t that she was not happy with it, but Nor was the last person on her mind when it came to helping you. “Was everything okay when he took you back?” She asked, her tone betraying her apprehensions.
“Yeah, yeah. I think he warmed up to me, in a way.” You smiled. “He told me that he doesn’t… blame me for what happened. So, I’m pretty sure we’re okay.”
“That’s good.” Remaining tension left Alma, letting her reciprocate your smile. “And what do you think of Pandora? Breathtaking, isn’t it?”
“Yes! It was so pretty, even at night. I wish I got to see more of it.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Alma’s smile turned knowing, into a teeny-tiny smirk even. “But next time you leave either go with someone or a communication device and a map, and-”
“Alright, I get it.” You interrupted her. “I don’t want to get lost again either.”
“Good. Now get some rest.” She patted your back. “Goodnight.”
“Night.” You slipped inside your room, laying down on the bed and letting out a deep breath.
Maybe you’ll ask Nor or someone else to go on a walk in some time. That would be nice.
AN: I just made some BULLSHITTTTT!!! Finally. I'm not fully happy, I hope the next part will be slightly better but I was tired with this one. I'll try to focus more on them bonding over mercer trauma and reader talking some more about her family stuff
The AFAA art book showed that colonel Quaritch actually has his own personal quarters at Bridgehead — a modular unit that was shipped to Pandora together with his body years ago. It has a work-desk, a shower, a vanity table, some top shelves and two beds.
Headcannons:
When the squad made their periodic returns to Bridgehead for resupplying and reports, Spider crashed at Q’s place. Quaritch justified it with being the prisoner’s ward and having a better eye on him that way.
Spider definitely snooped all over the place and opened every drawer, closet and compartment he could find, but discovered nothing interesting. Colonel’s apartment is sickeningly sterile at first.
Spider takes the top bunk, naturally, and Quaritch often wakes to him hanging half-way off the edge, his painted hand dangling just above his chest. He tried more than once to hold it without making the boy bolt awake (forest survival instincts)
Spider loosing his mind from boredom and turning the flat into a hurricane site as Quaritch is trying to get some work done on the computer (he does that on purpose).
Giving him a tablet usually helps though.
Coming back from the failed mission, the room became a cold reminder of the person now missing from his life.
Quaritch spent hours lying awake, looking at the top bunk, trying to process the fact that he’ll never see an unruly teenager hanging half-way over the edge again. A loss he himself caused.
Do you perchance write for Nor from AFOP? 👉👈 Or Nesim, either works :P
And if you so feel compelled, do you have any thoughts on them in the NSFW aspect? (this can include the effects of canon-typical violence and stuff)
Lots of love
— 🦐 anon
Nor NSFW Headcanons
Nor
Genre: fluffy smut. it’s super sweet n not too graphic
~1k words
Nor
- i rather think he’s a gentle lover honestly. he shows himself as capable of a lot, but with someone he can find himself comfortable enough to get down n dirty with?? he’s a sweetheart
- to begin, he’s allll about the na’vi way, so i feel like him being gentle in the tsawl (hammock hehe) feels right to me
- he is not a rough person with those he loves, even to those he just kinda likes— when him and ri’nela were beefing, he was the first to apologize and try to make things right (as he should), and if u heard his voice he was so soft spoken and trying to care so much. he just wanted her to be far from sky people shit because he cared.
- but goin back to the original topic! he is not the type to be rough in the act unless it’s something you want, even then i feel like the most he’s doin is spanking or pulling hair (not the kuru. don’t pull on that)
“Oeyä txe’lan— I do not want to hit you! What if I leave a mark? What do you mean that’s what you want?!” He is genuinely concerned for you in that moment, sorryy. He silently thinks it has something to do with your time in TAP that makes you crave violence even in soft moments (if ur a sarentu).
- i feel like he genuinely wants to Make Love, not just fuck. he’s there to build a CONNECTION (and rebuild his clan. which we’ll talk abt later cough cough breeding kink)
- the first time he performs tsaheylu with a partner (i say this specifically as the only option because he is NAWWWT dating a human, even if they’re resistance) i think he genuinely cries from the ecstasy and bliss of the moment.
- the moment ur queue’s interlock and his pupils dilate, he’s a goner. u have him for life
“My yawntu— this is the greatest moment of my life. No one could ever keep me from you.” Nor whispered against ur lips, your foreheads connected in a gentle press as the two of you interlocked queues, leading Nor to gasp and possess a full-body shudder. “Eywa blesses me with you—“ He choked out, before crushing ur lips together.
- he, like most of the sarentu probably, is inexperienced. he wants to treat u so well just as u deserve and make up for the lost time when he ran away. forgive him if he’s a littttle dense with getting it on
- he is the king of the pleading imo, and he is quite the begger in the bedroom.
“Eywa— oh, please do not stop—“ He panted, watching you tease him with his ears pinned down and eyes glistening as they looked up at you, all yellow and teary. “I need more of you, do not tease me, I cannot handle it..!” He groaned, tossing his head back. His pleads did not conclude until you gave in and quit teasing.
- when he gets more experienced with you and what you like, he also finds he has an affinity for cumming riiiight inside. the idea of you, whether u can get pregnant or not, bearing his seed in you settles something deep in his bones. satisfaction, possession, and a feeling of hope for his clan’s survival.
- if u can get pregnant tho!! he wants babies. and he wants them sooner rather than later (so long rda activity has been not as harsh recently). he is filling u to the brim until his seed spills out of you, and then he’ll push right back in with his fingers and keep it in there for some time.
“I will make a mother out of you, yawntu— you will swell with sarentu children. Allow me to cum inside, please—“ He was on the verge of bursting already, when you gave him the go-ahead, he was finishing deep inside.
- it all roots back to him wanting to rebuild his clan, the clan he was scared to lose, and the clan he wants to keep living in.
- he also is quite the masturbator. i think he has a pretty high drive and libido; so especially when he was away for so long, a lot of free time was spent with dick in his fist.
- he used to mutter quietly into his free hand while the other was filled with his dick thrusting in and out of the make-shift hole of his hand, muttering your name amongst other pleads and moans.
- he doesn’t do it as much now that he has you, but when u don’t want to get down, he does not complain— he nods, gives you kiss on the forehead, and disappears into the forest for a little. that’s about the only time he masturbates nowadays.
- i feel like he’d be a hater of porn. he doesn’t fuck with human tech n all but i feel like if he ever got the chance to watch porn, he’s icked out. why’re they doing that for all to see??? he don’t like that. ruins the specialness of the moment in his eyes.
- he is a VERY faithful lover, and will not have sex with someone who he is not mated to. he would be type of guy to wait until marriage imo.
- as for any other kinks i think he has, i think HE likes being marked up by non-violent means, like hickeys. he gets all flustered when someone sees and asks but he secretly loves it
- i need to be heard on this. pegging. HEAR ME. not often, but i feel like he has a hidden love for getting dicked down. he’s a bit bratty when he’s receiving it, but u know how to shut him up (a kiss, he hopes).
- i think the life of violence he was forced to lead has taken him to the path of a gentle lover who just wants to be loved and love in return. he wants to come to your bed at the end of the day and kiss on you until you can’t stand it. he is deathly afraid of hurting you or you getting hurt, his heart is too fragile after all he’s lived through. he channels his anger into protecting you now, and protecting you is what he lives for. also aftercare is the best with him cuz of this
“You are safe, yawntu. You did so well tonight, I cannot wait to make love to you another night.” He whispered softly to you, stroking your cheek with his fingertips and curling his tail around your leg. “I will take you to a nearby stream so we can wash off, hm? Then, we rest.” He pressed a final kiss to your temple, before hauling you up into his arms.
that’s all i can think of for him honestly. i hope u enjoyed!!!!
Writer's curse strikes again! I'm at a hospital and there aren't really comfortable places or tbh anything to write </3. I'm currently working on a Nor x Human reader fic and then probably part 2 of scars or maybe something with teylan?? I'm not sure
Guys I'm gonna be honest, i really don't hate Alma. She did so much wrong, but I can't bring myself to dislike her. She tries her best to redeem herself okay. i mean I do hate her bit like
CW: Alma has issues, infertility, rough sex as a way to atone for sins, human reader implied
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Alma's very vulnerable during sex, which isn't always gentle. Therefore she needs a lot of comfort after.
She has it hard, for many reasons. She's not everybody's favorite to put it lightly and while hurtful, it is okay. As long as she is your favorite.
You need to show her that you still love her, that this isn't just using her.
Cries a lot after while you hold her, gently threading your fingers through her hair.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
She preferred her avatar much more to her actual self. That's no secret.
She liked her Na'vi traits. The neural queue, the tail, the ears and blue skin. Not to say she finds such sexy, but it made her feel different, better.
Does not like herself. Both because of her looks as well as what she did.
Despite this, she's actually quite nice to touch and look at. I know the game has like one fem human model, but I like to think she's very soft, with nice curves and smooth skin.
She really likes all of you, but your hands she likes most <3
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
I'd say she's more of a creamer rather than a squirter.
The wrapper might be a little wrinkly but the candy sure is sweet.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Alma fantasizes about pregnancy a lot.
Of course, it is not shameful to want a family, but she's a little too old for that and she doesn't even want to imagine how her mental health would actually crumble from guilt with another child.
She just likes to think about being a mom. She's always wanted a baby.
A baby she'd never have, as she's infertile (headcanon).
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
She's like 50, she is no virgin.
Average amount of experience. She had a few partners.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Anything that lets her be close to you, really.
Missionary, mating press.
Even doggy. doggy style is not allowing her as much affection, but lets her get all she needs when she wants you to be rough.
Always bottoms.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Neither? I mean, the most she'd say are "I love you"s and stuff like that??? Idk guys thats a tough one.
Probably not the one to joke around tho.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
She has a curly bush, a real amazonian jungle once she left RDA. Before that it was being shaved.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Alma is really getting chewed up by life, despite this being the consequences of her own actions. On the one hand, she feels like she deserves this, on the other, she wishes she didn't have to go through all this. Therefore, she lets herself open and be vulnerable during sex.
She lets you be rough with her, oftentimes asking for you to spank her, slap her, pull her hair. Because she feels she needs to be punished for all the things she's done.
At the same time, the woman is very clingy, wrapping her soft thighs around your hips. And tail, were she in her avatar.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Not much tbh.
The Resistance base doesn't offer much privacy where she could just go and masturbate + she has so much to do she doesn't have time.
She used go in her avatar somewhere hidden in the forest but that still was rare.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
She's pretty vanilla for the most part. Praise, closeness.
But she sometimes feels so disgusted with herself, like she doesn't deserve all this love and sweetness.
Those days she prefers you to be more rough, slap her, spank her, degrade her. Of course, it's all done in a safe measure, you won't let her go crazy.
At first she used it as means to somehow make up for her wrongdoing, but she then started to get turned on by this.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
There isn't really a good place for her to do so. All the locations kind of suck.
At this point she'd kill for a private bedroom and a proper mattress.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you focused while working on something. Makes her wish you'd be working on her orgasm instead.
Lingerie. She likes seeing you in something pretty. It's a small luxury that makes her feel more at home, at peace, away from the many problems she has going on.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Besides borderline taboo/crazy kinks like ageplay, knife play etc.
Anal. No, you're not putting anything up her booty.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Alma prefers to receive head rather than give it.
I'd say she's more skilled at sucking dick than eating pussy, but she makes up for it with her motivation.
Really does want you to be happy and satisfied.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Honestly doesn't mind either. Again, depends on her mood.
Though it usually is on the slow and sensual side.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Avatars also go through heat cycles. With how much time she spends in her avatar, it comes to her human body too.
So, when it happens, quickies are inevitable.
Against every surface, everywhere, in each body, every day.
R = Risk (how are they with the risk of getting caught? are they game to experiment?)
She's open with trying out new things in bed, whatever makes you happy.
Alma CANNOT afford to be caught during sex. Hell naw, she's a leader, she can't!
Also like, some kidna hate her ass for what she's done and do not want to see her booty ass naked.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Alma can go, okay?
3-4 rounds per usual.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
It's pride month let's indulge in lesbianism. She needs her girl to use a strap on her.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Can a bottom truly tease? I don't know. No, I don't think so, no.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
She cries a lot, like really a lot.
When she's not crying, however, she's let out these really cute, quiet gasps when you hit her cervix with your cock/strap.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
One time you used a vibrator at the base of her tail and she lowkey got addicted.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Plump labia with prominent inner lips.
I think she has a big clit.
Interesting stripe and freckle patterns in her avatar.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Slightly below average, I'd say.
She is slightly too stressed for it to be normal.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Due to less than convenient places/time of you two having sex, she can't really go to sleep soon after.
Would love to fall asleep on your chest. She feels so safe and loved when she listens to your heart.
Oh Alma, they could never make me form a consistent opinion on you
CW: reader is not stable, Scarification (Wukula receiving), very unsafe knife play aka. we do actually cut Wukula, dark topics, power imbalance, reader is Varang basically, Pre RDA Mangkwan, Dead dove do not eat??
Eykyu - leader of a small group (hunting party)
Tsamsiyu - warrior
Nantang - viperwolf
Another day, another raid. Wukula has lead his warband on a Tlalim caravan. As always, the traders couldn't defend themselves well enough, only taking down a few of his warriors.
One of the riders set himself on fire and lunged onto the medusoid, the creature was helpless as it was torn to shreds by obsidian spears. Without that the windray could hold up the ship. The warriors shot their arrows set on fire. Wukula was fighting the ikran riders protecting the caravan.
His own ikran never disappointed in battle, snapping the neck of the enemy mount while Wukula shot them. They fell down defeated just as the next.
The fire from the ship spread everywhere, burning down the nearby plant life into ash. Remaining Windtraders tried to run away, but unlucky for them Wukula's warriors were everywhere, killing and capturing survivors. In the end nobody was taken, all were killed and scalped. They looted the ship, took the neural queues as trophies and flew to the village.
"Tsahik!" He called for you as soon as his ikran landed on the ashy ground. His hands were full with bundles of kurus. "The raid was successful!"
You left your yurt, ears perking up at the sounds. Your people scattered out of your way both from respect and the fear you invoked in them. Wukula puffed his chest out with pride of his catches despite your menacing gaze. You always look like that, he's confident of his stance. He knelt down in front of you, presenting his "catches" to you.
You examined them carefully under your fingers and sharp eyes. "Are there any captives?"
"I do not bring you weaklings, Tsahik." He bowed his head, waiting for you to take the gifts he brought you. "We have looted the caravan as well. You might want to see what we found."
You hummed in approval and took the kurus. They will make fine decor of your home. He even separated the captain's from the others, how thoughtful of him.
The other trophies weren't disappointing; fine materials, rare foods that are not available anywhere near. You will take them for yourself and leave the rest to your best subordinates. You need to reward them for such a bountiful hunt.
Wukula held the stuff for you, a proud expression on his face. It was closer to a scowl than anything else, but it is just how he is. Happiness is a thing that a male of his status wouldn't show in public. Yet, nobody can deny that he got prouder and happier the more things you picked out.
...
The celebration of the hunt started and so has your irritation. The loses in people were small, but still were there.
His fault, all of it. For loosing these people. Wukula should have calculated this, thought of a better plan. It wasn’t his first time guiding a raid and not his first time taking his people, even if only a few, to their doom. Not his first time disappointing you. And yet he dares to come back with but a half of the party with such a smug grin on his face, like he has reasons to be proud.
You still let the celebration happen. Only for the people to be busy. You let his party have fun, they did not do anything wrong. Only they had any reason to be proud, they fought well under their Eykyu. You gave them victorious scars, perhaps too lenient. They were so happy, dancing through fire and ululating.
But the feeling of failure gnawed at your skin. What leader are you if your right hand man can't replenish the clan numbers and actually reduces them? On the one hand, good loot. On the other, death. Three warriors isn't much, but it still is there.
Then Wukula. He looks at you as if offended he didn’t get rewarded. His golden eyes give off everything he feels even if his face doesn't show it. He even learnt to control his ears and tail. His pupils were wide as they zero on you.
The way your hips sway as you dance, the beads of your loincloth flying around. The sexy curve of your waist is exhibited so nicely. Breasts, despite being tightly bound with blackened leather, looked so squishy and supple as the remaining flesh jiggled ever so slightly with your movements. A sight to behold, the powerful and beautiful Tsahìk dancing so gracefully with her people.
His breath hitched when the tuft of hair at the end of your tail brushed from the beginning of his scar all the way up to his chin. "Tsahìk, what are you doing?" He almost stuttered.
Of course, the expression on his face remained "calm", but there was lust in his eyes. You conditioned him to feel it every time you do this, purposefully or not. Taking him to your yurt after raid and letting him pleasure you. It worked on him, because how could it not?
"Nothing, tsamsiyu." Your tone betrayed the irritation boiling in your head, making it hard to think clearly. "Are you not enjoying this celebration? Standing here like a zakru, still."
He felt your displeasure, his mouth going dry. "I am... I am, Tsahìk."
"Then dance, eat, drink." You huffed.
"If you will allow it, I ask to speak with you in private." He choked on his own words, terrified to meet your eyes. His pupils were now small again. It was not pain he feared, but your disappointment. "And it is something I wish to do sober."
"Now?" You asked.
"I wouldn't dare to ruin your enjoyment." He flattened his ears in submission. "It can be whenever you wish."
"You already have." You tilted your head up high. "Come."
He was mentally pissing himself. The realization of how hard he fucked up dawned on him.Important to note, this wasn't his biggest slip up, not even close. of course, it was many years ago and he has grown to be better. This meant you were less accepting now. He needs to step up his game not to disappoint you again.
Wukula followed the movements of your slim legs all the way up to your yurt, the biggest one in the village. The entrance consisted of a giant animal’s jaw and a beaded curtain. It made sound each time someone went through it. Maybe it signified your importance, position. Could be it was designed just to get attention.
The inside was the most intimidating. Kurus hanging off the ceiling, skulls impaled on spears, demonic statues. That was common in the decor of high status Mangkwan, but of course you had the most. Your Tsahìk tools were gruesome, meant for torture rather than healing. Can't afford weaklings in your clan. And your little blowpipe that you use to extract truth from others, one that you will soon use on him.
"Speak." You commanded him, searching for something in the mess of your things.
"I wish to apologize, my Tsahìk..." He almost stuttered. Wukula was a brave man, but damn you scared him as much as you enticed him. "I have failed this hunt. But I swear to you-"
"Swear what to me?" You snapped, cutting him off. "To not fail? How can I believe this, huh? It's been a while since you lead a raid with no losses. A big while!"
"I have learned from my mistakes." He tried to defend himself. "I will never fail again, please just give me a chance."
"Kneel." You growled, baring your teeth at him. The audacity. He fails and fails again and again, and he pleads for another chance? You don't feel very eager to sacrifice more people. You pointed at his head, blade in hand. "These scars are meant to be for my best warriors. Do you think you deserve to wear them now?"
"I- No. No, I don't, Tsahìk." He grit his teeth with shame. "But I will prove myself. I still can be your best warrior."
"And how would you do this?" You took his kuru, hooking it over your knife. His pupils were almost gone, shrinking with fear. The armor of bravery he wore cracked, his ears pinning back.
"I'll bring you new recruits from other clans!" He barked out, saying anything just so you won't cut. "More than we have lost!"
You looked him up and down, lips curling with disgust. What a pussy, you though. He was your best asset, to lose him would be a suicide.But he needed to be punished.
"You will do so alone then. I cannot take risks because of your incompetence." A light word for the brutal ones that swam around in your anger. "But you do not deserve to call yourself my best anymore. What you deserve is shame for your mistake."
"Yes, Tsahìk." He nodded. He already was full of shame and remorse. Not because of what awaits him, but because he dared to displease you. Your anger was the greatest punishment for him, whether acted upon or not.
"Down." You let go of his kuru, threw it with force actually. It got hit on something, and it hurt like hell. You know it did.
He laid flat on his back, hands at sides of his head. Obedient like an ikran, doing everything you say even as his eyes caught how you were holding the knife. You leaned down, tracing the scar on his stomach with the obsidian blade.
The muscles flexed under it's sharpness, everything not to get cut. To no avail. You were brutal with your knife, cutting along the lengthy scar on his torso, the one from this so-called dog tag warrior. It can look messy to others, a mark of shame instead of pride. Nobody wants messy scars. But if he did not fail, you would cut it into something nice and precise.
He seemed to unstiffen a little, realizing you're not gutting him just yet. He still was fearful. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest as it's blood trickled down his sides. He was used to such light pain, light to him. Took it like a champ when you took your sweet time with it, carving each wound deeper.
You then had an idea to kick it up a notch. "Stay still." You said even though it wasn't needed. You wanted it to hurt. You dragged the blade from the start to his scar slowly down, deeper the further you got. And the furthest you got was the waistband of his loincloth.
Wukula's eyes met yours. There was a pleading in them, don't go lower
"You dare to beg for mercy?" You mocked him, voice high and daunting over his large yet submissive form. His heart jumped in his chest.
Before he could answer, you pulled yourself up to your feet and admired your handwork. You took the anger out of him, as he deserved to duffer it more-less. Sure, you knew somewhere deep in your brain that was not true, that this was you letting your frustration take over. Still, the work wasn't done despite your calmer state. You wanted to a confirmation of his promise.
You took your blowpipe, stuffed it with the white powder and blew up straight into Wukula's nostril. He sneezed, his pupils swallowing the gold of his eyes. "Why?" He asked with such sickening innocence. He couldn't control himself much now, it was endearing to watch the man struggle.
"Do you regret failing me?" You cut him off sharply.
"Yes." He responded in earnest. "The last thing I'd ever want is to fail you."
"Why?" You tried to peer into his mind. "Is it because you fear punishment?"
"No, Tsahìk. I do not care about being punished." He answered carefully. "I hate seeing you disappointed. I would do anything for you to be happy, even if I have to suffer. It is worth your peace, your pleasure."
"Then do not disappoint me again."
"I will not, I swear." He promised you with such devotion in his tone.
You looked him up and down with a cold, calculating gaze. His words were true, you were reassured of his loyalty to you. It was slightly unexpected. You thought his main motivation was keeping his ass safe, but it seems your mere displeasure was the main factor of his obedience.
"Very well." You sighed. "Go now."
"As you wish, Tsahìk" He scrambled to his feet, bowing to you.
Wukula left your yurt quickly, however he did not cover as some of the clan members took notice of his ruined scar. Even if it symbolized your anger for him, it was still proof that he was strong enough to survive this and handle the pain.
Inside of course he was in no mood for a party, striding towards his own tent. He looked down on his torso and thought what he can do to make up for this, for you to make this sign of shame one that he could wear with pride. His mind already began to swoon with the ideas of intricate design on his stomach, of your hands carving them.
But before this, he needs to prove himself worthy.
Not very happy with this one its lowkey ass but it's practice ig
I won't write child characters in romantic fics. We don't do pedophilia over here. If you want a fic with Lo'ak or Neteyam, they will be aged up
Character x character ships are welcome
I will not write fics with pedophilia, incest, big age gaps or scat kink
I can write for darker themes such as toxic relationships, abuse, non-con/dub-con, self-harm, suicide etc.
I will write headcanons and one-shots
If you want a one-shot with a specific character, please don't be shy to describe your vision! Like the reader's gender, race (Na'vi or human or maybe something else go crazy), and the general vibe
