xxxviii. ❝share your stories❞
╰ au / extended storyline
( year eight )

ODESSA remembers the time she started a fist fight in a local supermarket back on earth.

The guy — who was drunk, handsy, rude — didn't leave her alone. He wouldn't leave other woman alone either. He wouldn't leave her sister alone. That had been the last straw; when he had stepped too close to her sister and looked at her with something unrecognizable.

So, Odessa rolled her shoulder once and then punched the guy in the face. Yes, yes, she could have gone about it a different way, but she liked her approach.

The unnamed man wasn't happy at all. With a bloody nose, he got up and threw himself at Odessa. He punched, kicked, did everything in his power to cause her pain and humiliation. He had pushed her into one of the shelves, which caused things to fall to the floor and break.

Odessa fought back, the only thought on her mind was how he had touched her sister. She was blinded by it, if she was being honest. She had to protect her sister.

The two had been hauled out of the supermarket with their hands cuffed behind their backs. The unnamed man screamed and thrashed, well Odessa practically let her body go limp.

Then she had been taken to the police station, where they went through her file and saw that it was practically squeaky clean. Many of the officers knew her, and let her go with a warning. ( in secret, many had actually congratulated her with a pat on the back. )

That wasn't the point though. Her point — always protect your family.

🌍.

NEYTIRI remembers the day she and her sister had been sitting together learning english. It was a normal day, light shined down on them, and everyone was happy.

Grace stood in front of them, she was in her Avatar form and a smile rested on her lips. She was teaching them english, or trying too. Not all of the nave wanted to learn, believing that they didn't need english to be fine warriors.

Sylwanin, Neytiris sister, raised her hand, just like Grace had taught everyone too. She had the answer, or more so she knew how to pronounce the word in english.

Grace moved away from her chalkboard she had insisted on having. She nodded at the girl, calling out her name. "Sylwanin."

Tsu'tey huffed from where he sat. He hated the school he was forced to attend, but his mate loved it. So he would suffer, and smile briefly when she answered a question right.

"Hee-ler?" Sylwanin spoke slowly, unsure if she pronounced the word correctly. She believed that it was right, but she was unsure.

"Yes! Healer, good." Grace smiled, shifting from one foot to the other as she stuck her thumb up.

Neytiri feels the grounds shake first. She's the one who shares a nervous look with her sister and those around her. The earth beneath her feet continued to shake and rumble.

Kid after kid all file out of the door to see what's happening. Large machines with people inside, guns being held on the outside. The rda was there to shoot, kill anything that moved.

Someone moved, and the shooting started. Sylwanin pushed her sister out of the way, taking the damage and falling to the ground. She gasped out in shock, her large blue hand pressed over the wound near her chest.

Neytiri learnt a valuable lesson that day. The lesson — always protect your family. That's what her sister taught her, she just wished she could do the same.

🌍.

ODESSA smiles down at her eldest and only son, Neteyam. "My little warrior, steady."

An eight year old Neteyam nods, using right hand to pull the string of the bow back, his other hand holding into the crafted wood. "Yes, mum."

Odessa keeps her hand loosely around her sons elbow, helping him pull the bow string back completely. She nodded, and someone Neteyam knew that he could let the string go. The arrow flew the short distance, embedding itself in the body of a fish. It flopped around and Odessa gently pushed her son forward. "Go, go."

"Look, mum!" Neteyam rushed forward, grabbing the arrow and holding it up. He smiled so brightly at his accomplishment. He had caught a fish.

"Neteyam the fisherman!" Odessa spoke as she clapped her blue hands, cheering her son on. "My son, look at you. You will do great things, I know it."

"Thank you, mum." Neteyam smiled, pulling this fish of the arrow and holding it in his hand. They would go back to camp and Neteyam would cook the meat, a rite of passage. The fish flapped around once or twice, and his mother gave him a stern look. Like he was forgetting something. "Your spirit goes with Eywa. Your body stays behind to become part of the people."

Neteyam would kept this memory with him until he died, and she would share his story to anyone who asked. The sharing of stories was important, one learnt many things about another, and learnt many lessons.

Odessa would always try to protect her family, so they could live to share their stories.