About “Avatar: Fire and Ash” in a few words:

This 2025 film Avatar: Fire and Ash fires us back to Pandora after the war with the RDA. Jake Sully and Neytiri’s family are reeling from loss, and a fierce new clan, the Ash People, rise from volcanic lands with vengeance in their hearts. But alliances shift, power struggles blaze, and the fate of Pandora might just hinge on hidden bonds and burning truths.

Meet the characters from Avatar: Fire and Ash

Varang

Varang is a gruff, roguish ex-merc turned pilot who smells like gun oil and wildflowers (weird but true). He’s brash and blunt — the kind of person who will throw you under a flying banshee to save you and then apologize with a crooked grin. He claims to hate rules but is oddly punctual, keeps a secret collection of chipped teacups and knits when anxious (don’t ask). Somehow he always knows the back route through the jungle and has a laugh that makes everyone lower their guard, even when they shouldn’t.

Jake Sully

Jake is that stubborn, earnest leader — ex-marine, avatar-bound, forever barefoot even at the most formal ceremonies. He carries the weight of impossible choices and loves his family so fiercely it hurts; also he hums old Earth songs when the fire is low. Sometimes he’s awkward (trips over roots like a lovable klutz) and sometimes he’s mythic, making decisions that feel both heroic and heartbreaking. He misses Earth and also would defend Pandora to the last breath, which is messy but completely him.

Miles Socorro

Miles is the brilliant, anxious scientist who talks about synapses and symbiosis like poetry and sometimes actually writes it down. Obsessed with cataloging insects and fungal spores, he will eagerly photograph a beetle and then faint at a paper cut (very inconvenient). Gentle, relentlessly curious, and socially awkward — he apologizes for long silences and then launches into five-minute lectures about glow patterns. He refuses coffee on principle but will sip three cups because someone dared him — walking contradiction, but also the person you want at the lab bench when things go sideways.

Kiri

Kiri is pure spark — small, feral, and suspiciously wise, the kid of the forest who will steal your hat and your heart in the same afternoon. She plays with bioluminescence like it’s a toy (and sometimes it is), flitting between ancient rituals and messing with tech because why choose. Endlessly mischievous but occasionally somber for hours and then back to tantrum-level glee, she keeps everyone guessing. Rumor has it she can speak to plants and also hates chores, which is either a superpower or just her personality, I’m not sure.

Neytiri

Neytiri is fierce, proud, and utterly loyal — the warrior who can make you feel like home or like you’ve been judged by the entire forest. She teaches, hunts, loves with everything she has, and will embarrass you with a scolding that reads like poetry. She says she hates rules but somehow keeps ritual times down to the minute (contradiction alert). Beneath the arrows and ferocity there’s a ridiculous habit of humming tiny lullabies to frightened creatures until they calm down — terrifying and tender in one package.

Neteyam

Neteyam is the steady anchor — calm, level-headed, the kind of leader people trust before they even know why. Responsible to a fault, he carries duty like armor but cracks into laughter at the worst jokes and keeps an embarrassing stash of feathers for reasons. He can be infuriatingly mature and then, at night, carve tiny figures and talk to them like an old storyteller, which is adorable and slightly weird. Protective of family, quick to mediate, and yes, he secretly loves dramatic poetry readings (don’t tell anyone).

Lo’ak

Lo’ak is gloriously chaotic — part hunter, part troublemaker, full-time heart and rebellion. He hates being told what to do but will train until his arms fall off to be better at something he just decided he hates (classic contradiction). Endlessly curious about predators and reef life, he paints his hair with pigments he steals from fish and somehow looks cooler for it. Wildly loyal, sarcastic, and secretly tender with smaller animals — he names rocks, probably, and definitely has strong opinions about them.

Tsireya

Tsireya is ocean-grace personified — reef-born, socially sharp, and utterly mesmerizing when she talks about tides and reef politics. She’s a diplomat and a dancer who asks the right questions (and then quietly files your secrets away like treasure). Loves big crowds but will vanish into the blue when it’s too loud, which is both dramatic and perfectly reasonable. Also collects shells and arranges them in mildly obsessive patterns (alphabetical? maybe), charmingly private and impossible to ignore.