Kaltxì, you may refer to me as A. Despite that, you may call me whatever you like.
➯ Nì'ul nume . . .
I don't expect to be active on this account, though, I do have plans for an idea that is simmering in the works.
I need some time to form the right words into play―spare me time to read over my works so that it will satisfy you, rutxe.
I like writing, maybe I can let loose and churn out a lot more than one would expect. My ideas are bare at the moment, maybe appearing juvenile if I write in the wrong manner.
This is another snippet of Simple Interference. Enjoy, ma frapo.
Ao’nung supposed that he was good at concealing most of his emotions whenever they are at an all time high, but it seemed to be slowly being peeled away the longer he remained and returned to the island. Though, he supposed that it was all thanks to you.
Despite his initial hesitancy towards the new, unnamed emotion that grew alongside the everso growing flame of his curiosity, Ao’nung found himself not necessarily caring about it the longer he stayed. He found the feeling similar to an itch that is satisfied in the end, the initial childishness that he had brought along with him slowly dissipating as it made way for his maturity to shine through.
Ke nì’eveng nulkrr. Ao’nung finds himself smiling a little at that thought. His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, slightly raising as he begins to listen to you talk about the last few months on your end. He watches your face contort into many expressions, each one so very animated—and yet, so fitting for whatever you said.
Even then, Ao’nung never found himself getting tired of learning; he supposes he has you to thank and curse for—the fact that it was you that had unravelled the bindings that held his curiosity back.
Though, he finds himself cursing you less—growing more thankful in the process, being granted with the opportunity having given him the chance to personally improve on himself. You seemed to be a good influence on him, the longer Ao’nung pondered about it.
ACT III is coming soon. Patience will bear you all fruit. Take care.
I've always found the idea of a certain form of writing, one that was unforgiving with every written word.
Imagine being absolutely blunt yet absolutely heartless in description, leaving behind an idea that remains with your being.
I've found those an inspiration, really. Expect my rendition of such a writing style.
That being said, expect ACT III to be posted in the next two weeks—it is not because of anything too scary, but it is rather to spare enough time to format the use of HTML into accordance..
I plan to write for more characters, perhaps even more of a niche set of writing—given the parameters that I have now.. It will take a while before I weave another story other than Simple Interference, ma frapo.
It is a pleasure to be writing for the Avatar fandom, especially the The Way of Water fandom.
Act Synopsis: With the involvement of those closest, Ao’nung is left to reflect on the events that had led to his predicament.
Warnings: Family arguments [although brief].
Additional Information: Word count ～ 4.3k , conflict amongst family and friends , self-imposed isolation and exclusion , author’s note is below the ‘Read more’.
Na’vi Glossary: olo’eyktan ～ clan leader , tsahìk ～ shamanic matriach , uturu ～ sanctuary , sempul | sa’nok ～ father | mother
return ～ [ACT Ⅰ] previous ～ next [ACT Ⅲ]
Author’s note: I am extremely relieved with how the formatting works in HTML, and I am growing more comfortable with using Tumblr as a place for my writings to be posted. Again, Na’vi is still in use; translations will provided, as always.
“You test my patience, you foolish boy!” Ronal’s voice rang throughout the marui with her son standing in the centre, his return from the ocean being the very reason why the Tsahìk’s voice was raised. His father had his arms crossed, staring down at Ao’nung who kept his head lowered.
It’s late. Ao’nung began tuning out his mother’s voice, bit by bit, the longer she reprimanded him. And yet, they’d rather discipline now instead of tomorrow. He was growing irritated, though he tucked it out of sight as his mother’s scolding came to a close.
The silence did not remain for long, seeing that his father’s voice was coolly inserting himself into the matter. Thankfully, the Metkayinan male was not greeted with more yelling.
“Do you understand, boy?” Tonowari’s firm tone was quick to receive a stiff nod from Ao’nung.
“We wish that—” A hiss escapes his wife’s lips at his passive choice of words, swaying him to change his wording. “We want you to acknowledge the already pressing fact that you are to be the future Olo’eyktan of this Clan. To have you act so carelessly is—” Tonowari faces his wife with an expectant expression, to which she adds onto it with little hesitation.
“—humiliating. You knew the curfew that we had set. And yet, you deliberately disobeyed us. Do you know how worried we were for you? It is taking every fibre of my patience to not punish you right this instant.” With that, Ronal momentarily left the marui to calm herself. Tonowari’s stern posture relaxed slightly, his eyes softening as Ao’nung met his gaze once he lifted his head.
Not much was said between the two despite the unspoken words that filled the air within the marui. And instead, Tonowari turns to end the night altogether.
“Sleep, boy. We will talk about your punishment tomorrow.”
Another nod now, Ao’nung retreated to the safety of slumber, his father leaving the marui to converse with his wife right after.
∙∼∶∽∙
“You are forbidden to hunt with your designated hunting party for the next two weeks. You are expected to assist your sister with her chores during this duration.”
Those were the orders of the Olo’eyktan, and it was final.
With annoyance that matched the commanding tone of Tonowari, his son begrudgingly accepted his punishment. He followed Tsireya once they had finished eating breakfast, Ronal eying his every move until he left the pod.
Well, I can’t say that I didn’t deserve this. Ao’nung huffed under his breath, seating himself at the dock that was near his family’s marui. He began preparing the leaves that they are to use to weave new baskets. He wanted to get a headstart in making them, just from estimating the amount of leaves his sister collected,
It’s only enough to make a few baskets, maybe eight at best.
For any passerby of the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk’s marui, they could hear their eldest groan in frustration. The chores were boring, menial at best and yet, a further aid to his budding dissatisfaction.
He wanted to go against his father’s words, but he bit back the unnecessary pettiness that bubbled in his stomach. With the additional eyes of his parents, the Metkayinan male recognised that he had to be careful and as you mentioned to him before, lest we wish to worry our parents more.
Well, those words were also useful in this context too. He thought.
“So..” Tsireya spoke all of a sudden. She had seated herself on the dock by the marui, a few feet away from Ao’nung as her tail curled by her side. “Are we going to talk about what you were doing? One moment you were being scolded by sempul and sa’nok for being reckless—the next you were gone. Just what were you doing?”
Ao’nung rolled his eyes at her words, staring at the basket that he was beginning to weave. It took a few minutes and his fingers twisting the leaf before he answered.
“Well, are you going to tell them?” Ao’nung asked plainly, his eyes narrowing at his sister—assuming her sudden prying of the topic was to gather information for mother. Ao’nung relaxes once she shakes her head, looking back at the basket in his hand.
“I met up with someone when I left the marui. They’re…” Ao’nung chooses not to blame you, especially since last night. It felt wrong to do so, strangely enough. “...good company. I lost track of time, returned home and… you know the rest.”
Tsireya perked up at this mention of another individual that was with Ao’nung. She assumed that he was still being selective with the information he will be sharing with her, in fear of getting the other individual in trouble as well.
“So, you and Rotxo went out swimming past Eclipse? Is that it?” She asked, curiosity peeking through those doe eyes.
“I wasn’t with Rotxo.”
She pauses in her own weaving, making direct eye contact with her older brother as soon as the words left his lips.
“You were out with another?” Tsireya asks rhetorically, before gasping out in an incredulous tone as soon as the words had fully sunken in. The silence from the Metkayinan male was deafening, the lack of words filling in for answers that she had in mind. “This—Brother. I’m so happy for you.” She whispers, a gentle smile over her features.
What? He stares back at Tsireya, an incredulous look present on his face. What was she talking about? Was she not angry with him?
“Tell me about them! Are they anybody we know in the clan? Oh, what about…” Thus began the many questions that formed in Tsireya’s mind, Ao’nung mentally preparing himself for more. He decided to answer the first few that she had.
“No, they aren’t. They’re from a different clan, and… we met by coincidence, alright? They’re a hunter-gatherer—” He sees the disbelieving look on Tsireya’s face, her eyes privy for more answers. “—You might ask how I knew that… Well, they were asking me for advice on the best spots to get the most out of a hunt..” Ao’nung was responding to each question, focusing on the basket that he was weaving to pass the time for questioning as quickly as he could, not really wanting to linger on the answers for too long.
“Are you going to introduce them to me? Does Rotxo know about them? How long have you—” Ao’nung felt exasperated, not understanding the point of her knowing so much. He answers promptly, setting down the now finished basket before picking up more leaf—his hands skillfully weaving yet another basket in the process.
He wondered about you once he began ignoring his sister’s questions—she thankfully kept quiet after sensing his uneasiness—as he stared out at the ocean, watching the waves tide over one another; the scene reminding him of last night, of the time when he parted from the island.
From you.
Speaking of you, Ao’nung couldn’t help but form his own set of questions regarding you. Your interference had influenced this curiosity that began to burn in the very pit of his chest, his mind sprouting thoughts as if it were a thriving fruit tree. Many questions came forward, dangling themselves from the branches for his hands to pick and ask.
Were you doing your duties right now, at this moment? What was it like at the Nekehanga Clan? Were you busy with your chores and tasks, just like he was?
Did you get back home safe?
Worry pangs in his chest as he wondered more about you, and this predicament he was in—a clear consequence formed from his own actions.
Did you get punished too, for staying out so late?
Ao’nung couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of guilt for you despite not really knowing why he felt so, as strange as it was.
He couldn’t understand the reason as to why he felt as strongly as he did; you were some Na’vi that was from a neighbouring clan who took it upon themselves to talk with him, crawling into the separate life he had away from his own—one that he had hidden away in place for his current position in the Metkayina Clan.
With you, he had relieved himself of all responsibility and frustration he had accumulated some way or another. By the end of his time there on that island, he found himself a lot more relief in that sense.
Here, he was seen as the eldest son, set to be the next Olo’eyktan once he completed his Iknimaya. The thought was daunting, really. To think that the role of such a high position and calibre would be bestowed upon him, someone who was as mischievous as a teenaged Na’vi could be. The reminder dampened his mood significantly.
Tsireya took notice of her older brother’s change in demeanour. It wasn’t the first time she had seen a look of genuine worry overtake anybody—she had seen it with her own eyes before and comforted those, but not once had she seen such an expression on her brother. He looked… lost, lacking any semblance of that self-assuring confidence he usually had. The sight unnerved her, truly.
“Brother…”
“What is it?” His voice sounded exhausted, an annoyance clawing its way back up his throat and in his voice. What could he do to get Tsireya to back off and stop pestering him with the many questions she had?
She most likely didn’t even care about what he said, maybe she could use this information as leverage. There had to be a fine line where she would stop caring. There was no—
“Are you planning to meet them again?”
What?
“I see it in your eyes. This person was of great help to you, yes?” Tsireya notes, her attention unmoving from the basket she was focusing on. She doesn’t feel like seeing into her brother’s eyes, not wanting to meet those lost eyes with her own. Personally, she did not feel ready to see it again.
Minutes later, a soft grunt sounded. It was all that Tsireya needed to continue her statement.
“I’ll try to work something out for you, brother.” She could feel a piercing stare now, which was unlike anything she had expected from Ao’nung.
A shiver ran down her spine, forcing her to contemplate if she had chosen the wrong set of words to voice her desire to help her brother.
Silence.
It had the Metkayinan girl fidget with her basket nervously, determined to keep her attention on her weaving instead of facing the possible wrath incurred by her older brother.
It was so, so deafening.
Until it wasn’t.
[...Thanks, sister.]
“...Irayo, ma tsmuke.”
Tsireya let out a breath of relief, one that she had unknowingly kept holding onto as she waited Ao’nung’s response to her promised solution.
[... , brother]
“Anytime, ma tsmukan.”
She felt herself smile, the silence that returned no longer as uncomfortable as it was.
✤
It had been nearly a week since the punishment was put into effect.
Ao’nung was with Rotxo this time around, whittling a piece of wood to form it into the shape of an ilu. Seeing the carved aquatic creature reminded him of his own ilu, enjoying the freedom he had as he rode through the waves.
He set the carving down, picking up another piece as he listened to Rotxo’s recounts of their hunt—providing the other Metkayinan male what he had missed out on.
It should have made him feel envious of the activities that were done without him.
Good on them for improving their skills—ones that he had already learned much earlier than them.
“Ma Ao’nung?” Rotxo called out to his close friend, setting down the ilu sculpture he had finished perfecting. His tail was swaying gently from side to side, ears lowering as he gauged out the expression on Ao’nung’s face.
Good on them, for he does not care.
“Yeah?” A noise of acknowledgement was all Ao’nung gave.
Not one bit.
[Um... Sorry, ... ]
“Ìì… Do you have something on your mind? Ngaytxoa, if I annoyed you with the activities you had missed… I know you do not like being left ou—”
Strangely enough, Ao’nung couldn’t find it within himself to care about what Rotxo did with their friends.
[—No.]
“—Kehe. I am not bothered by that.” Ao’nung hissed, whittling the wood. His skillful carving began shaping the wood piece into one that resembled a tsurak.
“What is it, then?” Rotxo asks, setting his dagger by his side as he stares at his friend. Ao’nung set his unfinished sculpture beside him. A huff escapes his chest as he exhales, his tail curling around his leg as he takes a few minutes thinking through what he will say next.
And thus, he began unveiling his encounters with you, reliving the memory more, little by little—despite it being as short as they were, save for his most recent meeting—the reason as to why he was enduring punishment.
He didn’t mind it either, seeming to readily accept this consequence—which was uncharacteristic of the chief’s son. Rotxo stared at Ao’nung, his ears slightly lowered as he attempted to peel away the words that had been uttered by his friend. The words he spoke were of the truth—they have been good friends to know when the other is lying, or not—but the truth seemed to be far more peculiar than anticipated.
On one hand, Rotxo was willing to believe his friend and his encounter—accepting it as well. This was great, Ao’nung finding solace in an island and someone where he would express himself freely instead of lashing out on the other Na’vi. He feels glad that Ao’nung has a healthy coping mechanism to battle with the ever growing pressure that has been placed onto his shoulders.
“Was the reason as to why you’ve been punished by the Olo’eyktan because of…” Rotxo’s voice trailed off, finding no need to add more words that what was already known.
…On the other hand, Rotxo couldn’t help but feel that he had been partially set aside by Ao’nung. When there was the other mention of this other Na’vi. ___. How could you reach him as easily as you did? Last he recalled, Ao’nung did not seem to be the type to let others in as easily… This was coming from a supposed exception to that. The same goes for the island that Ao’nung found on his own, without telling Rotxo.
[Yes, Rotxo.]
“Sran, ma Rotxo. I came back later than intended that night. I.. guess I lost track of time with them.” Ao’nung responded, his gaze unmoving from focusing on the ocean waves. He lifted up his wooden tsurak, continuing to carve into the sculpture with his dagger, fine tuning the details.
Rotxo stares at Ao’nung, seemingly at a loss for words. He never had an experience that was palatable—or even similar to what Ao’nung had gone through in the past few weeks.
“Wait, you mentioned that you had made an arrangement with them—It’s already been a week.” He pointed out, concern present in his voice. Ao’nung stares at his friend, an unreadable expression present on his face as Rotxo’s words sink in for him.
The routine. You have waited for me before.
Ao’nung’s grip on the tsurak tightened, his expression morphing into one of genuine guilt.
You must be waiting for me right now.
“I’ll go visit them when this punishment is over. Sa’nok and sempul are already quite relaxed with their punishment for me being just this.” He answered, exhaling a sharp breath he had through his nose.
“Hopefully they’re okay with it.” Ao’nung added, his finger on the blade a lot more precise as his initial worry dissipates.
Rotxo nodded at his words, lifting his ilu sculpture once again as he focused on his own carving once more. There weren't any words to be said in mind, nor was there any time for him to think of any particularly new questions with the sound of a horn blaring throughout the island of Awa’atlu.
Both of their ears perk up at the noise, the two setting their sculptures on the rock they had been seated upon. Ao’nung’s eyes focused on the flying beasts that flew overhead, as they landed on the beach shore—the central area for duties by the Metkayinan people.
[Let’s go.]
“Kivä ko.” Ao’nung nudges Rotxo, getting off the rock as they both headed toward the direction of where the banshee landed—where they are met with the sight of strangers who stood on their land.
Forest Na’vi, it seems. What are they doing here?
They both neared the gaggle of Na’vi who dismounted from their beasts. Ao’nung moved past the crowd, his gaze judgmental and piercing. His eyes were trained on the two male Na’vi who greeted him silently, Rotxo following behind as he took in the features of the new arrivals.
“Look, what is that?” Ao’nung was elbowed slightly, his attention shifts from staring down at the two males to wherever it was that Rotxo was fixated on.
“Is that supposed to be a tail?” A tease left Rotxo as he pointed out a physical difference between the newcomers. His comment did not go unnoticed as the Metkayina nearby laughed, finding humour in his words. Ao’nung found it amusing as well, smirking to himself as they circled the group until they were a few metres away behind them . Tsireya arrived, and the teasing from Rotxo stopped as she lightly smacked his arm.
He bit back his sharp tongue, keeping quiet as his parents approached the group now; his father first, then his mother right after.
“Why do you come to us, Jake Sully?” He hears Tonowari ask, though the tone in his voice made the question come off similarly to a demand to know, rather than a consensual request.
He stared at the arrivals blankly, standing in his place beside his parents as he blocked out the conversation that formed between the two leaders. Ao’nung figured that they were passing by and needed to stock up on supply.
That was until he heard the words that were uttered from who he supposed was the leader of the group. He hated how his intuition was wrong, with him now learning of the real reason as to why they were here.
To seek uturu. Sanctuary to live amongst the Metkayina, the reef folk, despite being one of forest Na’vi.
“We are reef people. You are forest people. Your skills will mean nothing here.”
“We will learn your ways, right?” Jake Sully turns to the woman beside him that Ao’nung supposed was his mate. She seemed uncomfortable, especially after Ronal lifted her tail to briefly examine it.
Ao’nung personally believed that they were foolish to come to the reefs for solace.
He watched his mother listen to their plea, circling the group slowly as if it were an akula with already wounded prey within the depths of the reef. Ronal began to examine the features of the group, her sharpened gaze unwavering and unmoved despite seeing how the children were intimidated by her.
“Their arms are thin.”
“Their tails are weak.”
“You will be slow in the water.”
Ronal concluded honestly, her gaze now falling upon the girl’s hands. Ao’nung only then saw what his mother saw as she lifted them up, the hands not of the People.
Rather, they belonged to those of the sky demons.
“These children are not even true Na’vi—”
“Yes, we are.” The girl attempted to interject, her hands moving back to grip her woven shawl tightly with her teeth gritted. As Ao’nung expected, his mother ignored her, turning to one of the Na’vi males—the one who attempted to greet his sister—as she, too, lifted his hand for all to see.
Another five. Four fingers and a thumb.
“—They have demon blood!”
The clan erupted in a mixed cacophony of horror and disbelief, many backing away from the group now. Parents tugged their children a little closer to their figure, mothers assuming a protective stance as they watched the group’s leader attempt to reason with the heads of the Metkayina Clan. Ao’nung desired to drown out the conversation, feeling annoyance beginning to singe within the very pit of his stomach, though he kept listening.
“—but we Metkayina, are not at war.”
“We cannot let you bring your war here.” Tonowari responds, facing Jake Sully as he stands his ground, awaiting for the other leader’s response.
“I’m done with war. Okay? I just want to keep my family safe.”
He took note of how his parents looked at each other, the silent words now exchanged between the two. A simple nod was all it took for Tonowari to speak up once more.
“Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us. Treat them as our brothers and sisters.” His father announced, facing the rest of the Metkayina. “But, they do not know the sea. So, they will be like babies—taking their first breath.”
“Teach them our ways, so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”
Ao’nung’s demeanour remained unchanged, a neutral expression as he stared at the group. He felt like laughing at them, though he pushed aside the intrusive impulse as he watched Jake Sully turn to his family with a small look of bewilderment, a glint of relief in his eyes, it seemed.
Ao’nung felt particularly uneasy of the Na’vi leader, who just so happened to be the Toruk Makto as he learned from the conversation, only realising the reason as to why was due to the fact that he was the father, yet he acted dissimilar to how one would take upon the role.
It appeared to be pushed to the extremes.
“What do we say?”
“...Thank you.” The littlest one exclaims, her tone genuine as she did so.
He is a father and yet, he acts as anything but, if the way he ushered his children into position said anything.
Ao’nung kept staring, his thoughts set aside as he listened to the children thanking them. He did not miss how the other Na’vi girl, the one with her shoulders covered, rolled her eyes and how the two other boys—he supposed they three were siblings—looked at each other with uncertainty.
Perhaps they were troublesome.
“My son, Ao’nung, our daughter, Tsireya will show your children what to do.” Tonowari briefly answered, gesturing to the two Metkayina in question as he did so.
Ao’nung couldn’t help the shock that coursed through him, turning to his father quickly with an upset expression.
“Father, why do—”
“—It has been decided.” His father quickly silenced him, an expectant look over his features as he stared back. To not let any more uncomfortable silence fester between the two, Tsireya inserted herself, an accommodating smile now.
“Come, I will show you our village.”
Ao’nung couldn’t help the irritation that slowly built itself inside of him.
✤
One thing that was for sure was that the Sully children were as troublesome, just as Ao’nung had initially assumed.
They were both horrible at diving and at holding their breaths underwater. Ao’nung could understand to a certain extent, though it didn’t hurt for him to tease them.
He felt a bout of arrogance and pride rising in him, finding entertainment in teaching the Sullys incorrectly, the results of them being thrown off their ilu and struggle became an escape for him to enjoy and to release the irritation and frustration that just so happened to embed itself in his skin—it may as well be heartless, but one cannot expect a Na’vi such as he, to respect those who resemble more of sky demon than the People that they supposedly are.
Why bother treating them as closely as one would as brother and sister?
The irritation ebbed away slowly, though it still lingered within, no matter how much he wanted to rid himself of it.
The second week of his punishment had come to an end by the time the Sullys had just touched upon the basics of diving. It meant that he had no real reason to stay in the village and keep teaching. He initially felt apprehensive of letting Tsireya take on all the work of teaching the Sullys, though she was adamant on sticking true with her words from before.
[Sister... are you sure?]
“Ma tsmuke… am’ake srak?” Ao’nung asked, his eyes narrowing as he waited for Tsireya to respond.
[Yes, yes, brother.]
“Sran, sran, ma tsmukan. You should meet with them again.” She assured, turning her attention to the Sully kids who sat atop the giant boulder. Rotxo was already there, talking casually with them as he waited for Tsireya and Ao’nung to make their way here.
While it was true that Tsireya had arrived at the boulder where the group was, she waved off her brother who quickly mounted onto his ilu. Rotxo tilted his head at the sight, turning towards his sister. He shot his hands up to his chest, confusion taking over his features.
‘Where is he going?’ Rotxo signed.
‘I believe you and I both know where he is headed.’ She replied, her movement was as graceful as it could be. A teasing smile appeared over her features as she added on. One of the Sully children, who Rotxo learned was Lo’ak, seemed to flush slightly in reaction to her smile—in which, ironically—Tsireya failed to notice.
‘And in this case, it is who he is meeting.’ She finishes.
Tsireya watched in delight to see Rotxo quickly understand what she meant by putting her emphasis on ‘who’, a smug grin over his features as he chuckled in amusement. The Omaticayan children stare at the two Metkayina awkwardly, their confusion present as they struggled to understand the ‘finger talk’ that Tsireya and Rotxo were fluently practising in front of them.
“Now that is out of the way, Rotxo and I will be teaching you how to breathe for much longer underwater.” Tsireya announced to the group, repositioning herself into one of a kneeling position, as she took on the role as their instructor for the session.
The Sullys brushed off their behaviour and instead, began intently listening to Tsireya and Rotxo’s instructions.
return ～ [ACT Ⅰ] previous ～ next [ACT Ⅲ]
Reblogs and likes are not at all necessary, but are appreciated if you do so. I hope you enjoyed reading this piece. Take care, my dear readers.
Irayo nìtxan for reading.
Act Synopsis: Away from home for a moment longer, Ao’nung finds himself as second company.
Warnings: None.
Additional Information: Word count ～ 3.5k , takes place before canon storyline is introduced , brief description of judgment , self imposed seclusion from others , author’s note is below the ‘Read more’.
Na’vi Glossary: tìlor ～ beauty , nìwin ～ quickly.
return ～ next [ACT Ⅱ]
Author’s note: I am pleased with the fact that Act Ⅰ has been properly formatted and translated. Like I have mentioned before, English is not my first language. Any particular errors or typos you may see is a fault of mine. Do let me know if there are any particular mistakes.
Another thing to note is that details are important. Keep an eye on what is said. Perhaps you will uncover more than you’d think.
Ao’nung took his time to absorb the sight of the calming waters before him. His ilu swims along the path, seeming to have rehearsed the directions of wherever it was that it needed to carry the seemingly distracted Na’vi that mounted it.
Ao’nung’s mind had been in a haze, similar to that of when he hung his head low in submission as he sat through the scoldings of which he grew to ignore.
It wasn’t unlike him to brush off the words of his parents; their grievances were ones that were well intentioned, yes, though it often came off as one that dug into his pride—the one that had grown him into the Metkayinan male that he was now. He wasn’t one to let things go so easily, given his stubborn disposition.
There were times that he felt he saw his parents, despite the fact that they still viewed him like how an ilu would fret over their young—and, those infants were absolutely helpless, he even saw it for himself. He knew that he was dissimilar to them.
So, why? Why was it that his parents refused to acknowledge him as anything but?
He took to the same location of which he felt provided him with quite a lot of privacy to let his emotions loose.
The island was well hidden, one that takes someone skilled to weave through the rocks that blocked any Na’vi from seeing the beach that was a few metres further ahead. It was Ao’nung’s personal paradise, only for his eyes to see. Stumbling upon the place was unintentional—having strayed from his group of friends out of sheer boredom to have his keen eyes focus on the sandy clearing.
With this newfound discovery, Ao’nung would not have exchanged the knowledge of the island for anything in Awa’atlu. This was his, and he wanted it all for his own. Was that so difficult?
His anger that had been barely concealed when he remained on the island with the rest of his fellow brothers and sisters was unveiled before the island that he was now standing on. He doesn’t yell, nor does he choose to curse those who had agitated him. Instead, Ao’nung put the many shells—ones that he had picked up as he sauntered along the beach of the island—to good use.
He moved toward a few flat rocks that seemed to protrude from the ground beneath it, the position being right by the coastline, seating himself atop it.
Ao’nung remained ever so silent, pulling a shell out from the pile. His resentment had not yet subsided and, in return, his frustration remained present even in how he held onto the sea shell—firm and unforgiving. He supposed that it reflected how he felt about the entire ordeal. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he grew.
He began throwing the sea shells, one by one. Each shell had been flung with the same sense of ferocity, the intent to have it far away from the island in any direction that made it possible. Soon, he had fewer shells to throw, with his frustration ebbing away.
Now that Ao’nung was a lot more relaxed, his senses were no longer clouded; not even the quiet rustle in grassy clearing forty feet behind him could escape his acute hearing. His ears quickly pin themselves back as he turned himself to face the direction where the incongruent sound seemed to have originated from.
On instinct, his hand darted to where his dagger was, listening to the sound once more.
The rustling remained, the sounds not being any that belonged to an animal that he knew of that lived on land. The more he listened, the more he could assume that the rustling belonged to that of another Na’vi’s footsteps. A Na’vi who appeared to be nosy enough to follow him here.
His hand slowly moved itself away from the sheath that held his dagger, ears lowered.
His eyes narrowed, standing up from his spot as he stepped down from the rock and moved further up the terrain. Ao’nung felt a sense of annoyance rise in his chest once more when there was no response.
[Come out.]
“Wrrza’u. Show yourself.” Ao’nung hissed, crossing his arms as his tail swayed slowly—appearing to wait for a response. Hearing the sound of footsteps now discernable nearing him, the Metkayinan male stared at the figure that appeared from the shrubbery. There revealed you, another Na’vi, though not one that he recognised from his clan, which raised his suspicions.
[Sorry.]
“Ngaytxoa. I did not mean to intrude on you.” You spoke, a calm smile over your features as you politely greeted Ao’nung. Unconvinced, the Metkayinan male held up a protective stance, a glare present now. Seeing your hands that held onto a weaved basket that had a small amount of fishes inside, you appear genuine to him. With that—Ao’nung lowered his guard.
“Why are you here?” He asked, ears relaxing slightly as he began to take in your features. Your hair appeared to be skillfully braided, tied in a manner where it blended in with the rest of the braids that seemed to curl themselves around your kuru. You seemed to be a hunter gatherer of the clan from which you belonged to, if you holding onto the basket that was half filled with fish meant anything.
You seemed to be a part of the Reef Na’vi, though your skin appeared to be a slightly darker shade of turquoise, making the lighter patches on your skin more prominent from the Reef people of the Metkayina that he was so used to seeing.
“This island is special to me, too. I like visiting it from time to time—away from the noise.” You replied, inching closer to the other Na’vi. He didn’t seem to react harshly to your movement, his tail swaying slowly now to match the curiosity that swirled into those cerulean blues of his.
[What is your name?]
“Fyape fko syaw ngar? It would be nice to know the name of the person I have been sharing this island with.” You asked, watching how the Na’vi shifted in his spot—as if he had forgotten proper etiquette when meeting another from different clans. You found it amusing, though you chose not to let it show—not before hearing more of the Na’vi’s voice, deciding by then however you should respond.
[My name is Ao’nung.]
“...Oeru syaw Ao’nung.” He responds after a few minutes of awkward silence. “From the Metkayina Clan.” Your ears perked up in your own curiosity, tail wagging slightly as a reaction toward the development in getting the shy male to respond. “Ngaru tut?”
[And yours?]
“Is that so? Well… It is a pleasure to meet you, I am ___. From the Nekehanga Clan, just further down south from this island.” You shared with him. You climbed onto the large rocks—the ones that he had been sitting on prior, staring ahead at the sun that appears to be setting—the purple hue bleeding into the orange that signified the afternoon.
“It is going to be night soon, I believe you should be heading back home, yes?” You asked rhetorically, hearing him perching on a seat next to you. He stared ahead, seemingly occupied in his own thoughts.
The sight of an ilu caught your attention, the aquatic creature weaving through the rocks that were metres ahead, chirping in recognition of Ao’nung. It swam over quickly, both pairs of eyes trained on the male before switching over to you.
“Your ilu is very pretty, what’s her na—” You were cut off by Ao’nung’s voice suddenly interrupting your question.
“—Will we meet again?”
Well, that was new. You were shaking your head internally at how blunt he was when he asked. Despite that, you caved in with an answer that sufficed.
“If you’d like to. I usually come here once every three days.” Ao’nung took in the information, nodding at you to acknowledge that he heard you, muttering a soft farewell. You watched him rise, moving forward and sinking himself into the shallow water before mounting the ilu.
He left right after, just as the piercing dark began to take form.
You decide at that moment to leave, too.
✤
Ao’nung stood near the rocks of Awa’atlu, deciding to return to you once more, feeling far more relaxed than irritated, which was a nice change of pace. Though, it didn’t help the fact that it was incongruent, seeing as how he appeared to be in a better mood when he left the marui of his family after being supposedly chastised once again for his behaviour. Calling for his ilu, Ao’nung’s eyes quickly trained themselves onto the creature surfacing, right until it rose up to waist-level beside the Metkayinan male.
With time, he grew used to you. He associated your person as part of the island; assuming it as something natural, to which he personally believed in.
He supposed that his eagerness to leave was to head on over to his best kept secret as of yet, having met up with you at the island a few more times since his first encounter.
Curious eyes watched and engraved themselves into his back as he mounted his ilu once more, speeding away from the island of Awa’atlu after sharing a knowing look with his aquatic companion.
Once more, he weaved through the sharp rocks and followed along the same path, his eyes immediately locking onto the familiar figure of you on the sandy beach of the island. You waved at him, a large grin over your features as he dismounted his dear ilu once he neared the shore.
He reciprocated your expression with a small smile.
[Come, Ao’nung.]
“Za’u, ma Ao’nung.” You ushered with a softer voice, as if you needed to be secretive. He found it amusing, though did not make a comment on it as he would—finding no need to tease, only wanting to learn more about you.
There you both were, stepping into the grassy section of the island. It was one attribute that he acknowledged, but paid little mind to, seeing as he decided on sticking close to the beach—it allowed him to express his emotions with ease as much as it provided him an efficient way to leave as quickly as possible.
The sensations felt new to him, the smoother texture of the grass against his skin a stark, though not unwelcome, contrast from the gritty and granular texture of the sand that latched onto them. The more he trudged, he felt the uncomfortable grains of sand sticking to his legs and feet being gently removed with every step taken through the blades of grass.
Ao’nung returned his attention to you, his ears perking up as he took note of your confident strides. You seemed determined, and he was curious to know why.
“Where exactly are we going?” Ao’nung questioned, his voice cutting through the silence that had comfortably consumed the journey to wherever it was you were headed. He was still following as you pushed through the leaves and other foliage that stood in your path the longer you ventured, mimicking your actions as he did so.
“It is a spot that could be equal to the sea’s tìlor.” You answered, nearing what appears to be the mouth of a cave. Your words had Ao’nung pause for a moment, feeling as though you were merely exaggerating.
“I doubt that it would be as beautiful as the ocean.” He responded curtly, feeling as though that it was the truth.
“Are you saying that because you have seen everything—” You crossed your arms before continuing. “—or the fact that the ocean is all you have ever known?” You rebutted, head tilted slightly at him as your tail flicked about in partial curiosity, your lips pressing together to form a thin line.
For the Metkayinan male, it left him apprehensive to answer. Your words should aggravate him, seeing how it was a dig at his intelligence and knowledge, though it did the opposite—much to his own surprise.
Ao’nung supposed that it was the fact you were another Na’vi, one that just so happened to not be from the same clan as him. With differing clans, there was bound to be information that was disparate between one another, down to the teachings and perhaps even tradition.
He also supposed that it was also how you asked him, a genuine tone enveloping every syllable that slipped past those lips of yours. It was a strange expression to him in comparison to the usually mocking tone of the Metkayinan people, in which not knowing was for the better of the people. Those who mock were not cruel with their words, though their judgemental stares were enough for any growing child to reel back and return to what they know.
He returned from his own thoughts, the sight of you waving your hand in front of his face enough of a stimulus in doing so. Ao’nung took in your appearance once more, his eyes training onto your face that showed nothing but genuine curiosity—as if you wanted to know what it was that occupied his mind.
Would it offend you if he was honest with you, too?
Nìwin. Ao’nung’s mind commanded him as if it, on its own, concluded that he was to be tamed. Do not make yourself a fool.
“Well, I would not say that—that I’ve really seen everything—that’s impossible, though… I believe that nothing could compare to her. That is all I know.” Ao’nung answers, his ears lowered as he treaded along his words carefully, referring to the ocean with respect. Perhaps it was to show you how loyal he was to what he perceived as the truth—watching your reaction cautiously.
You seemed to be thinking over his words, seeming thoughtful as you acknowledged him—surprising him once more.
“If that is so, is it alright for you to—” At least, was what you wanted to say, though you omitted it from your sentence. “—see the location in question? You can at least learn of another beauty that you can appreciate, then.” You offered to Ao’nung, that smile returning to your face once again.
You were offering him an opportunity to learn about something outside of Metkayina's own bubble of knowledge. Ao’nung supposed that he had already begun to learn new things when he returned to the island to meet up with you.
“If you don’t mind showing me.” Ao’nung whispered now, as if uttering the statement was taboo. You nodded, a hand gesture ushering him before entering the cave. Trusting your input, he followed into the cave. It was then where he felt the transition of the previously soft grass to the firm, smooth rock. The cave had a large opening in the ceiling, allowing the afternoon rays of light to pierce through—hitting the large body of water that was at the left hand corner of the space in the process.
The cave was not at all extraordinary, though he did not comment once he saw you standing near what seems to be jagged pieces of rock. You lay a hand against the shape, gently rubbing it as you do so.
It confused him, though it quickly turned into one of bewilderment as the rock appeared to come alive, a bright turquoise now illuminating a section of the cave. Ao’nung watched in disbelief as you made contact with more—with what seemed to be crystals now that he thought about it—the cave lit up with the hues of turquoise and magenta, alongside a few hints of yellow as well peeking through some of the smaller rocks.
The cave seemed to sing, no longer in its previously engrossed slumber that it had been nudged from. A gentle hum that became one of many that intertwined with each other, forming a beautiful symphony that teased a prelude of multiple stories. The sounds did not attempt to overtake one another, seemingly content with the song it had composed. It took Ao’nung a moment for his gaze to see that there were little creatures instead that seemed to be singing. These creatures did not seem to be bothered by the two Na’vi, as they continued to float about inside the cave.
“What do you think about it?” You asked curiously, tail now slightly wagging as if you were anticipating his response. Here you were again, hearing him out again—listening to him and acknowledging his words as if they mattered.
“How…” Ao’nung muttered to himself, seemingly at a loss for words. Though, it was not enough to entirely render the male unsure of what to ask.
“How is it that you knew of this place?”
You stifled a few chuckles that arose, making your way toward the body of water—sinking your feet first to adjust to the warm temperature that greeted you. You sat down against the flat rock, your hand ushering him over once more.
He trusted you a little more now, following right after. Ao’nung couldn’t help the fact that his body shivered in reaction toward the shift in temperature, his tail flicking about as his body attempted to grow accustomed to the water. His ears perked up when he heard your voice cutting through his thoughts.
“I simply got curious about travelling further out.” You answered, tucking your legs so that your knees were pressed close against your chest. Your many braids splayed themselves over your facial structure, a hand now dipped in the water as you made fluid motions, your attention now on the ripples that were formed from your actions.
“...And you do not worry about getting hurt?” He pried, seemingly confused at your nonchalant response.
“I do. Though, it cannot hurt for one to be curious.” Ao’nung supposed the answer sufficed, though he did not expect you to add on further.
“Is that not how you found this island as well?”
With hesitation, he nodded. Ao’nung felt unsure of why you felt the need to bring it up.
“That makes the two of us, then.” Ao’nung couldn’t put what he felt into words that even seemed the slightest bit comprehensible, your words causing his skin to tingle in a strange manner—though the feeling was not unwelcome save for his nose slightly scrunching.
He felt, if not for the third time today, acknowledged.
As if he was seen, even.
The sensation was new, and it happened to be unlike anything that he had experienced prior to meeting you like this. He settled in the water, his hearing selectively blocking out the hum of the cave. The feeling of curiosity rose in his chest—as if it were now a small flame that had now been reignited, even if it happened to be brief. Bringing his courage forth, he took to asking more questions. You seemed willing to share information to him—willing to teach him what you knew, if anything.
“Nga läpivawk nì’it nì’ul ko, ma ___.”
[Tell me more about yourself, ___.]
He watches your ears perk at his sudden usage of your name now. You turn your attention back onto him as you reposition yourself in a much more comfortable posture.
“I’ll only tell if you do the same, ma Ao’nung.”
To what he found as a pleasant surprise, you answered him quite easily. Questions for him seemed to be reciprocated and replied to with far more ease now that they agreed on an established quid-pro-quo, wherein which Ao’nung learns more in exchange for fishing tips that you could use when patrolling certain areas of the ocean.
Strangely enough, Ao’nung’s guard was bare for you to see, relaxing as he recounted the mishaps and incidents that had occurred—be it due to his negligence or his friends.
Time had passed by then, despite the fact that it felt only a few minutes spent just talking—even you seemed surprised at how long you two were chatting, only taking note of the lack of light that shone through the opening in the ceiling.
Eclipse had arrived, eating away at the remaining bits of daylight that peeked through the clouds.
“It is already so late, Ao’nung. We should head back, lest we wish to worry our parents even more.” He nodded, getting up from the warm water with a grunt; he shivers slightly, feeling the chill of the night nipping at his skin that had been exposed to the air.
You led him out of the cave, tracing your way back to the beach where his ilu impatiently waits for him in the shallow waters.
“Let’s meet up again,” Ao’nung suggests without missing a beat. He felt a need to stay longer, though the knowing look in his ilu’s eyes swayed him not to.
“You know when I’m here.” You patted his shoulder. “Now go, you need to leave before the tides grow even higher.”
Bidding him a safe journey back home, you turned on your heel and returned to the forested area of the island.
Ao’nung watched you—the unfamiliar, tingling sensation returning to him once more.
If you had stayed for a little longer, you could have seen him tense as he did.
You could have even seen the silhouette of his tail wagging slightly.
Ao’nung quickly mounted his ilu and returned home.
return ～ next [ACT Ⅱ]
Reblogs and likes are not at all necessary, but are appreciated if you do so. I hope you enjoyed reading this piece. Take care, my dear readers.
Irayo nìtxan for reading.
No matter the outcome, changes form in the little ripples that are strewn across the ocean. Not a single ripple is left unnoticed, and the ocean never forgets.
༄ Simple Interference ༄
An 「 Ao’nung / Reader 」 Series . . .
In which Ao’nung finds himself sharing peace with a stranger, a small island now his best kept secret.
⤷ STORY TYPE : Series , slow burn , follows canonical timeline [though slightly tweaked] , ambiguous relationships [with implied romance] , realistic , eventual angst
⤷ WARNING[S] : [Eventual] major character death , [eventual] detailed description of war and violence , mentions/descriptions of blood and gore , destruction of flora and fauna , emotional conflict , moral ambiguity
⤷ ADDITIONAL : Na’vi [Li’fya leNa’vi] will be in use—not only in place of certain words, but sentences as well. Translations will be provided, though, so no worries. [Y/N] will not be in use, but rather [___]. The reader is Na’vi, though their description is kept ambiguous. The story is also written in the second perspective, where ‘you’, ‘your’ pronouns are used. Please take note that English is not my first language, so please bear with me.
ACT Ⅰ ◦ RECOGNITION ∼≻ HERE.
➥ “Are you saying that because you have seen everything—” You crossed your arms before continuing. “—or the fact that the ocean is all you have ever known?”
ACT Ⅱ ◦ FAMILIARITY ∼≻ HERE.
➥ “So, you and Rotxo went out swimming past Eclipse? Is that it?” She asked, curiosity peeking through those doe eyes.
“I wasn’t with Rotxo.”
ACT Ⅲ ◦ TRUST ∼≻ SOON.
➥ “Nitram oe ‘efu, ma Ao’nung. I feel that way because you are finally being honest with me.”
ACT Ⅳ ◦ ADVERSITY ∼≻ SOON.
➥ Loading ⋯
ACT Ⅴ ◦ ADMISSION ∼≻ SOON.
➥ Loading ⋯
Reblogs and likes are not at all necessary, but are appreciated if you do so. I enjoy interacting with users, more specifically.
Irayo nìtxan for reading this far. Kìyevame ulte Eywa ngahu! [Good-bye and may Eywa be with you!]
This is a small snippet of a piece that I am working on, titled "Simple Interference". It is an Ao’nung x reader fanfiction, where it will be portrayed in a secondary [ You / Your ] perspective. It will be a slowburn. Na’vi will be in use, and there will be English translations provided.
This is all I can provide, lest I wish to spoil the storyline. The entire piece amounts to > 10,000+ words, that I can only say.
∙∼∶∽∙
“How is it that you knew of this place?”
You stifled a few chuckles that arose, making your way toward the body of water—sinking your feet first to adjust to the warm temperature that greeted you. You sat down against the flat rock, your hand ushering him over once more.
He trusted you a little more now, following right after. Ao’nung couldn’t help the fact that his body shivered in reaction toward the shift in temperature, his tail flicking about as his body attempted to grow accustomed to the water. His ears perked up when he heard your voice cutting through his thoughts.
“I simply got curious about travelling further out.” You answered, tucking your legs so that your knees were pressed close against your chest. Your many braids splayed themselves over your facial structure, a hand now dipped in the water as you made fluid motions, your attention now on the ripples that were formed from your actions.
“Do you not worry about getting hurt?” He pried, seemingly confused at your nonchalant response.
“I do. Though, it cannot hurt for one to be curious.” Ao’nung supposed the answer sufficed, though he did not expect you to add on further.
“Is that not how you found this island?”
With hesitation, he nodded. Ao’nung felt unsure of why you felt the need to bring it up.
“That makes the two of us, then.” Ao’nung couldn’t put what he felt into words that even seemed the slightest bit comprehensible, your words causing his skin to tingle in a strange manner—though the feeling was not unwelcome save for his nose slightly scrunching. He felt, if not for the third time today, acknowledged. As if he was seen, even.
∙∼∶∽∙
Do let me know of your thoughts. I appreciate any that come from the community.
Likes, reblogs are appreciated, though not necessary. I enjoy feedback, though.
janainaart
areudirty
dededos
dailybridgerton
gummygunk