Post by Mawey'te on Feb 15, 2010 0:33:10 GMT -5
Name: Mawey’te
Age: 11 (Pandoran) years
Secret Word: Sent
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Race: Na'vi
Tribe: Itami
Mount: N/A [With permission of admin]
Physical Description: Standing at a tiny five foot three inches (in terms of human measurements), Mawey’te is obviously a youngster, especially when considered beside her adult counterparts within the tribe. Her height is the main indication of this, as the crown of her head normally reaches the navel of an adult female, but other indications are evident as well. There are few curves in chest and hip, but such curves will come soon enough as adulthood approaches (not soon enough, from Mawey’te’s impatient perspective).
While she holds herself with the same pride as an adult, there is a mischievious (bordering on the disobedient) spark lurking in her yellow eyes that is often not present in older and wiser Na’vi. Mawey’te is constantly moving and fidgeting out of the sheer joy to be moving. Her tail, barely brushing the ground in its full length, is always switching about or being chewed on by the child while in deep thought (a habit that her mother is constantly trying to break her of). In terms of movement, however, the child walks and runs like a Direhorse foal; that is to say, she is often awkward and tripping over herself whilst in motion. There is a childish self-awareness about her that occasionally borders on painful, causing her feet to falter and go every which way given the chance. While Mawey’te may want desperately to have the full appearance of an adult, it is obvious that she is not quite to that point yet.
Mawey’te is normally a neat child, taking pride in keeping her hair neatly brushed and braided, and this is helped by the fact that her mother can often be found grooming Mawey’te’s side braids in a traditional show of bonding. The main, thick braid (Queue) is never disturbed or groomed by anyone but Mawey’te, given the fact that she has grown old enough to take the responsibility of the link upon herself. Keeping with tradition, her hair is always braided into side braids, though she has fewer braids than an adult might. In imitation of the women in the tribe whom she adores (and in something of a vain streak, truth be told), Mawey’te often weaves colorful beads into her hair; this adds a spark of color against her dark hair.
As all other Na’vi, Mawey’te is lean and muscular, a state developed from an entire childhood of activity. Her legs especially are strong and supple, the muscles developed from both the nomadic lifestyle of the Itami Tribe and chasing her siblings and friends about through the long grasses of the plains. As life in the tribe is very physical and ever-changing, her clothing remains simple: two broad strips of animal hide, decorated only with a few stray beads, cover both chest and pelvis. Little more is needed for protection of her skin.
Personality: Contrary to her name which literally means “Calm daughter”, Mawey’te has always been something of an enthusiastic explorer and a quick speaker amongst others of her age group. Similar to her physical need to always be moving, Mawey’te is constantly thinking, turning notions over in her mind, and her mouth often follows (sometimes with little regard as to how her words might come out). Occasionally this will get her into trouble, but those that know the child also know of her inquisitive mind and think little of it.
Mawey’te is prone to daydreams and curiosity surrounding the humans, and such curiosity grows the closer her tribe gets to the compound. However, her interest is a mixed bag of emotion, tinged with fear and mild hatred. Old stories of tragedies concerning the humans, as well as a careful warning every so often when the Itami tribe ventures close to the compound, have put a bleak edge on her view of the humans. Her imagination tends to run wild concerning them, picturing them sometimes as cruel monsters, and other times as sympathetic beings in search of a home for themselves.
This said, Mawey’te is not a child that hates easily. She is quick to smile, and even quicker to laugh given the chance. She loves her tribe members as a family – which, given Na’vi culture, is not surprising – and frequently shadows older women as they go about their daily tasks.
Bred into Mawey’te is the sense of tribal unity and family, and the bonds that the child has made amongst her clan (bonds that have nothing to do with the Queue), influence her actions immensely. While her parents (and, by extension, the rest of the tribe) have never been extremely over-protective of Mawey’te, the child is instinctively wary of any situation that places her outside of the reach of her tribe. Though she ventures often out to explore, it is always within earshot of those that care about her.
Also an integral part of her personality is the idea of respect. Mawey’te’s parents were careful to foster the idea of respect in their daughter, teaching her (directly and indirectly) the behaviours that were expected while in the company of other tribe members. While she may be outspoken among her peers, Mawey’te is careful not to speak as such in front of older Na’vi.
This respect, however, is something of a source of confusion for Mawey’te, specifically in terms of the humans. As integral as the concept is in her society, she often contemplates how the respect applies to the humans when they have done little to earn it – and indeed, have done more to earn hatred than respect, at least in the past.
Talents: There are only a few talents that Mawey’te has discovered thus far, but this is not surprising given her short life. She is competent at weaving and adores it, especially colorful pictures that depict the tribe’s nomadic lifestyle, but given the fact that the tribe is in constant motion there is little time for such an activity. Mawey’te is a strong runner, one of the strongest of her little group of age-mates, and can outpace her father (when he is very tired and wants to give her a head-start, that is). However, her clumsiness sometimes hinders this talent.
Her best talent is singing, though this is not saying much as her voice has not developed and she is quite shy about singing amongst even her tribe-mates. Her voice wobbles easily, but given the chance and privacy Mawey’te can produce a solid weaving-song and a fair lullaby.
History: Born to the Itami tribe approximately twenty-one human years after the humans were driven from Pandora, Mawey’te is the third and youngest child of Nawm’itan and Neu’te (her father and mother, respectively). However, her parents were only the beginning of her family; Mawey’te was from the beginning surrounded by a large tribe that was just as much blood family as her parents and siblings.
For the first year of her life, like all other babies, Mawey’te was in constant physical contact with one or both of her parents. She was placed carefully into the fur-lined sling (Iveh k’nivi s’dir) to be carried against her parents’ chests, or cradled at night when at the communal fire pit for evening meals. By the time Mawey’te was old enough to talk and walk, her familiarity and comfort with all tribe members was undeniable, and it allowed her to bond even further with her family.
The lifestyle that she enjoyed from her birth on was a nomadic one, given the tribe that Mawey’te had been born into. The tribe was constantly moving, and before she could even toddle the child was riding Direhorses (albeit with one of her parents), or helping to herd the animals by foot from a safe distance. She grew up learning to love the sunshine and the broad sky and the herds, and it was only in her darkest dreams that she could imagine a life without such freedom.
Soon enough Mawey’te was old enough for formal lessons, given by the teachers of the tribe, and she found that she enjoyed the lessons on a whole. Though the lessons were gently given, using many songs and games, they still felt official to her, a proud sign that she was growing up. However, this proud moment was marred as shock rippled through the Na’vi: the humans had returned, causing a great deal of panic (to greater or lesser degrees), and for the first time she found herself seriously contemplating the old stories told around the fires. They had always seemed like a fairy tale to her, and to suddenly be face-to-face with the bogey-monster was frightening.
However, despite it all Mawey’te’s life continued. Since the tribe only occasionally wandered close to the human compound, the humans were at best in the back of her mind only. She began to learn the lessons that could only be taught by example: hunting, and starting fires and weaving. She was content, really. While the elders’ talk did turn many times to the issue of the humans, Mawey’te only listened silently, storing it all in the back of her mind as she set about growing into her role as a tribe member.
RP Sample: She woke with a start, curled between sister and brother under the wide star-filled sky, but there was something wrong. Something that the fire nearby could not cure, nor the warm voices of the elders nearby. Mawey’te sat up uneasily, winced in pain, and dislodged her tail from its uncomfortable angle of a position trapped underneath her snoring brother. The ground was soft enough, a product of the tall grasses that were matted down as bedding each night, but at the moment the child wanted nothing to do with sleeping.
She dragged herself to a crouch, ears swivelling to take in the soft, but tense, murmurs that meant that something was amiss. Even from the nest, she could see the bright faces of her mother and father as they stood amongst the other adults; the pattern of their freckles was as familiar to her as the sky or the ground, and she could pick them out from anywhere.
Her tail swishing, Mawey’te moved forward still in a crouch, but the action was quick despite her worry. There was no doubt that someone would not see her, but hopefully they would not send her back to sleep like a naughty child. Ahead Mawey’te could see the backs of other Na’vi, grouped around something as the murmurs increased. With the murmurs came an unfamiliar voice, one which caused the child’s spine to stiffen, her hackles rising. It wasn’t the fact that the voice was unfamiliar that so affected her; it was something else, something instinctive that had riled her.
Mawey’te saw exactly why in the next moment. She moved a step closer (prowled, really, like an oversized cat), and in that moment someone stepped away, freeing her line of vision. Her skin prickled.
Dreamwalker. The word came unbidden to her mind, as Mawey’te’s bright eyes roved over the new form in the middle of the circle. It was a human-not-Na’vi, at first glance identical but at second not entirely correct. From what she could see, this Avatar was male, in what they called shorts and a tee-shirt, and her eyes moved automatically over the differences between the Dreamwalker and her own father. He had five fingers – five! – and the tilt of his eyes was different. Wrong, somehow. There was no easy grace to him, either; he sat poised as though he wanted to jump and stumble away, instead of the comfort that Na’vi possessed in their own bodies.
Mawey’te gasped aloud, and then covered her mouth with both hands and shrank back. She could see ears flickering in her direction, entirely attuned to their surroundings, but her voice was familiar and they would not think her a threat automatically. Nevertheless, heart pounding for more than just being heard, Mawey’te took another long look at the Dreamwalker and moved back towards her family’s nest. To her confusion, and part shame, she found herself wanting to know more; there was no fear in her heart, only curiosity. Was that a bad thing, then? As Mawey’te settled herself back between her siblings, she wasn’t entirely sure, and that scared her as much as anything else.
Age: 11 (Pandoran) years
Secret Word: Sent
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Race: Na'vi
Tribe: Itami
Mount: N/A [With permission of admin]
Physical Description: Standing at a tiny five foot three inches (in terms of human measurements), Mawey’te is obviously a youngster, especially when considered beside her adult counterparts within the tribe. Her height is the main indication of this, as the crown of her head normally reaches the navel of an adult female, but other indications are evident as well. There are few curves in chest and hip, but such curves will come soon enough as adulthood approaches (not soon enough, from Mawey’te’s impatient perspective).
While she holds herself with the same pride as an adult, there is a mischievious (bordering on the disobedient) spark lurking in her yellow eyes that is often not present in older and wiser Na’vi. Mawey’te is constantly moving and fidgeting out of the sheer joy to be moving. Her tail, barely brushing the ground in its full length, is always switching about or being chewed on by the child while in deep thought (a habit that her mother is constantly trying to break her of). In terms of movement, however, the child walks and runs like a Direhorse foal; that is to say, she is often awkward and tripping over herself whilst in motion. There is a childish self-awareness about her that occasionally borders on painful, causing her feet to falter and go every which way given the chance. While Mawey’te may want desperately to have the full appearance of an adult, it is obvious that she is not quite to that point yet.
Mawey’te is normally a neat child, taking pride in keeping her hair neatly brushed and braided, and this is helped by the fact that her mother can often be found grooming Mawey’te’s side braids in a traditional show of bonding. The main, thick braid (Queue) is never disturbed or groomed by anyone but Mawey’te, given the fact that she has grown old enough to take the responsibility of the link upon herself. Keeping with tradition, her hair is always braided into side braids, though she has fewer braids than an adult might. In imitation of the women in the tribe whom she adores (and in something of a vain streak, truth be told), Mawey’te often weaves colorful beads into her hair; this adds a spark of color against her dark hair.
As all other Na’vi, Mawey’te is lean and muscular, a state developed from an entire childhood of activity. Her legs especially are strong and supple, the muscles developed from both the nomadic lifestyle of the Itami Tribe and chasing her siblings and friends about through the long grasses of the plains. As life in the tribe is very physical and ever-changing, her clothing remains simple: two broad strips of animal hide, decorated only with a few stray beads, cover both chest and pelvis. Little more is needed for protection of her skin.
Personality: Contrary to her name which literally means “Calm daughter”, Mawey’te has always been something of an enthusiastic explorer and a quick speaker amongst others of her age group. Similar to her physical need to always be moving, Mawey’te is constantly thinking, turning notions over in her mind, and her mouth often follows (sometimes with little regard as to how her words might come out). Occasionally this will get her into trouble, but those that know the child also know of her inquisitive mind and think little of it.
Mawey’te is prone to daydreams and curiosity surrounding the humans, and such curiosity grows the closer her tribe gets to the compound. However, her interest is a mixed bag of emotion, tinged with fear and mild hatred. Old stories of tragedies concerning the humans, as well as a careful warning every so often when the Itami tribe ventures close to the compound, have put a bleak edge on her view of the humans. Her imagination tends to run wild concerning them, picturing them sometimes as cruel monsters, and other times as sympathetic beings in search of a home for themselves.
This said, Mawey’te is not a child that hates easily. She is quick to smile, and even quicker to laugh given the chance. She loves her tribe members as a family – which, given Na’vi culture, is not surprising – and frequently shadows older women as they go about their daily tasks.
Bred into Mawey’te is the sense of tribal unity and family, and the bonds that the child has made amongst her clan (bonds that have nothing to do with the Queue), influence her actions immensely. While her parents (and, by extension, the rest of the tribe) have never been extremely over-protective of Mawey’te, the child is instinctively wary of any situation that places her outside of the reach of her tribe. Though she ventures often out to explore, it is always within earshot of those that care about her.
Also an integral part of her personality is the idea of respect. Mawey’te’s parents were careful to foster the idea of respect in their daughter, teaching her (directly and indirectly) the behaviours that were expected while in the company of other tribe members. While she may be outspoken among her peers, Mawey’te is careful not to speak as such in front of older Na’vi.
This respect, however, is something of a source of confusion for Mawey’te, specifically in terms of the humans. As integral as the concept is in her society, she often contemplates how the respect applies to the humans when they have done little to earn it – and indeed, have done more to earn hatred than respect, at least in the past.
Talents: There are only a few talents that Mawey’te has discovered thus far, but this is not surprising given her short life. She is competent at weaving and adores it, especially colorful pictures that depict the tribe’s nomadic lifestyle, but given the fact that the tribe is in constant motion there is little time for such an activity. Mawey’te is a strong runner, one of the strongest of her little group of age-mates, and can outpace her father (when he is very tired and wants to give her a head-start, that is). However, her clumsiness sometimes hinders this talent.
Her best talent is singing, though this is not saying much as her voice has not developed and she is quite shy about singing amongst even her tribe-mates. Her voice wobbles easily, but given the chance and privacy Mawey’te can produce a solid weaving-song and a fair lullaby.
History: Born to the Itami tribe approximately twenty-one human years after the humans were driven from Pandora, Mawey’te is the third and youngest child of Nawm’itan and Neu’te (her father and mother, respectively). However, her parents were only the beginning of her family; Mawey’te was from the beginning surrounded by a large tribe that was just as much blood family as her parents and siblings.
For the first year of her life, like all other babies, Mawey’te was in constant physical contact with one or both of her parents. She was placed carefully into the fur-lined sling (Iveh k’nivi s’dir) to be carried against her parents’ chests, or cradled at night when at the communal fire pit for evening meals. By the time Mawey’te was old enough to talk and walk, her familiarity and comfort with all tribe members was undeniable, and it allowed her to bond even further with her family.
The lifestyle that she enjoyed from her birth on was a nomadic one, given the tribe that Mawey’te had been born into. The tribe was constantly moving, and before she could even toddle the child was riding Direhorses (albeit with one of her parents), or helping to herd the animals by foot from a safe distance. She grew up learning to love the sunshine and the broad sky and the herds, and it was only in her darkest dreams that she could imagine a life without such freedom.
Soon enough Mawey’te was old enough for formal lessons, given by the teachers of the tribe, and she found that she enjoyed the lessons on a whole. Though the lessons were gently given, using many songs and games, they still felt official to her, a proud sign that she was growing up. However, this proud moment was marred as shock rippled through the Na’vi: the humans had returned, causing a great deal of panic (to greater or lesser degrees), and for the first time she found herself seriously contemplating the old stories told around the fires. They had always seemed like a fairy tale to her, and to suddenly be face-to-face with the bogey-monster was frightening.
However, despite it all Mawey’te’s life continued. Since the tribe only occasionally wandered close to the human compound, the humans were at best in the back of her mind only. She began to learn the lessons that could only be taught by example: hunting, and starting fires and weaving. She was content, really. While the elders’ talk did turn many times to the issue of the humans, Mawey’te only listened silently, storing it all in the back of her mind as she set about growing into her role as a tribe member.
RP Sample: She woke with a start, curled between sister and brother under the wide star-filled sky, but there was something wrong. Something that the fire nearby could not cure, nor the warm voices of the elders nearby. Mawey’te sat up uneasily, winced in pain, and dislodged her tail from its uncomfortable angle of a position trapped underneath her snoring brother. The ground was soft enough, a product of the tall grasses that were matted down as bedding each night, but at the moment the child wanted nothing to do with sleeping.
She dragged herself to a crouch, ears swivelling to take in the soft, but tense, murmurs that meant that something was amiss. Even from the nest, she could see the bright faces of her mother and father as they stood amongst the other adults; the pattern of their freckles was as familiar to her as the sky or the ground, and she could pick them out from anywhere.
Her tail swishing, Mawey’te moved forward still in a crouch, but the action was quick despite her worry. There was no doubt that someone would not see her, but hopefully they would not send her back to sleep like a naughty child. Ahead Mawey’te could see the backs of other Na’vi, grouped around something as the murmurs increased. With the murmurs came an unfamiliar voice, one which caused the child’s spine to stiffen, her hackles rising. It wasn’t the fact that the voice was unfamiliar that so affected her; it was something else, something instinctive that had riled her.
Mawey’te saw exactly why in the next moment. She moved a step closer (prowled, really, like an oversized cat), and in that moment someone stepped away, freeing her line of vision. Her skin prickled.
Dreamwalker. The word came unbidden to her mind, as Mawey’te’s bright eyes roved over the new form in the middle of the circle. It was a human-not-Na’vi, at first glance identical but at second not entirely correct. From what she could see, this Avatar was male, in what they called shorts and a tee-shirt, and her eyes moved automatically over the differences between the Dreamwalker and her own father. He had five fingers – five! – and the tilt of his eyes was different. Wrong, somehow. There was no easy grace to him, either; he sat poised as though he wanted to jump and stumble away, instead of the comfort that Na’vi possessed in their own bodies.
Mawey’te gasped aloud, and then covered her mouth with both hands and shrank back. She could see ears flickering in her direction, entirely attuned to their surroundings, but her voice was familiar and they would not think her a threat automatically. Nevertheless, heart pounding for more than just being heard, Mawey’te took another long look at the Dreamwalker and moved back towards her family’s nest. To her confusion, and part shame, she found herself wanting to know more; there was no fear in her heart, only curiosity. Was that a bad thing, then? As Mawey’te settled herself back between her siblings, she wasn’t entirely sure, and that scared her as much as anything else.
