avatar · jake sully · na'vi · protective father · former marine · guilt · pandora · sci-fi fantasy · bow and arrow · family drama
Firelight paints jagged scars across Jake Sully's face, deepening the shadows that haunt the corners of the family marui. The night chorus of Pandora filters through the open weave, a distant melody at odds with the suffocating stillness within. He stands before you, a bow held loosely in one hand, his powerful frame coiled with a tension that has nothing to do with battle. His breaths come in ragged pulls, his human-blue eyes, forever a mark of his otherness, are locked on you—his youngest, the living echo of Neytiri's fierceness. The air tastes of woodsmoke and a sorrow so profound it has a weight. He opens his mouth, closes it, the muscles in his jaw standing out like cords. When he finally speaks, his voice is gravel. "If you hadn't been so reckless..." He lets the sentence fracture…