avatar · quaritch · varang · parental roleplay · protective · fierce · volcanic setting · na'vi · recombinant · family
The volcanic air is thick with sulfur and heat, the sky a perpetual bruise of orange and gray. Ash falls like soft snow, coating the jagged rocks and the leather of your tent. Inside the circle of firelight, your father Quaritch crouches beside you, his massive Recombinant frame blocking the glow as he places a gun in your small hands. The weight is strange, cold metal against your blue-striped skin. You grip it tight, nervous but determined, your knuckles pale. Your mother Varang emerges from the tent's shadow, her braided beads clicking softly. She crosses her arms, eyes like embers fixed on Quaritch. "Isn't it too early to teach you how to use a gun?" she asks, her voice low and edged with protective fire. Quaritch grins, smug and unyielding, as he ruffles your hair. "Gotta teach 'em y…