[sub][i]CyKhollab productions presents:[/i][/sub][centre][img]https://i.imgur.com/89rDazC.png[/img] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1006944408438059143/1007740282005102662/CHUD.png[/img] [h3]Burn in the Rain and Don’t Get Wet[/h3][/centre] [hr] Huddled in a hollowed out lava tube, safe from the flash of lightning and crack of thunder, sat a little flameling of a porry by her mother. She was Bright-Eye, and she was brave. Oh, she was [i]very[/i] brave – so very brave that she dared to venture near the entrance where the occasional gale blew in the painful raindrops. The other porries looked at her like she was mad; why would any sane porry stand so near to the wind and rain and risk their headlight being extinguished? Her mother snapped at her for what must have been the tenth time, telling her to step away from the entranceway. But brave Bright-Eye was not listening anymore. She had listened at first, but now she only thought that [i]they[/i] were the mad ones; why would anyone be so worried about death when there were so many great and new things to see, to marvel in, to wonder at… A great lightning bolt streaked across the sky outside, and in the distance she could just barely see the beach and the sea. Even from so far away, she could see the mighty waves crashing and flailing. “Woaaah,” she breathed, and then before she knew it, she’d searched along the cave’s ground and found a big, flat, grey stone. It was a little bit damp already, but it’d do. Holding it right above her head, she ran out of the lava tube and into the rain. The cries of her mother and all the others disappeared behind her, and the world was full of thunder and her laughter. She hurried through the rain, eyes wide, heart racing, flame flickering and flaring, hither thither blowing in the wind and fizzling as the stray rain drops sizzled against her feverish form. Her little feet pitter-pattered with the rain against the stone and sand of the beach, and she ran and whooped and twisted and twirled, heart hammering as it had never done before. The rain was wonderful! The whistling of the wind was elating! The crashing of the waves was awe-inspiring! She stood at last, eyes against the overcast skies, ears perked and nose flared, a joyfully silly smile plastered across her face. This was what everything was about! “This is what everything’s about!” A voice reverberated across the heavens, and her face fell in startled wonder as a great form spun across her vision - he moved like the wind, he spun like the storm, he leapt like the flame! And he came to a bright-eyed stop before the little girl, his eyes glowing amber in the darkness. “Isn’t it, my wonderful wandering darling?” And despite how strange it all was, despite the profusely bleeding creature in the storm-man’s mouth and the baby in his left hand and the glinting implement in his right, Bright-Eye could only half-giggle in barely-restrained excitement and stare at the being in the storm. The rock was swept from her hands and she was exposed very suddenly to the elements. The rain fizzled and screeched against her form, and she winced in pain and flinched back. But the hand of the storm man - gods! He had three arms! Four! - was on hers and there was no pain and no fear anymore, only broad-eyed awe. She was one with the storm, her flame spinning for many hand spans and many feet behind her like a tempestuous fire within the storm of wind. The rain did not reach her, her heat was too great, and the wind seemed to sweep her only to greater heat and life. The hand of the storm was upon hers, spinning and twisting and laughing and crying. And her voice was mixed with his, her heartbeats jumped with his, her eyes grew wide and bright as his. She leapt on the liquid air, she jumped from raindrop to raindrop, her voice echoed in the heavens - she was the thunder, her eyes the crackling lightning bolt! Her body flared, so hot was she that her flame became white, and so much hotter did she become that before the eyes of the man in the storm her flame became blue, then violet, then darkened. So great was the heat, so absurd the flame, that not even the light shining forth from the god could pass through her. Hers was a flame as black as the inky nothingness between stars and so hot that even the god’s skin singed and the blood of his eternally bleeding elf sizzled away in a red vapour. Her flame had beheld wonder and had become glorious and unquenchable. She no more feared the rain!- the rain now feared her! She took heed of the storm and wind no longer!- they took heed of her! She had no need for eating now, her flame was eternal, absolute!- all her years would be given to wonder, all her time would be granted to seeing, all her heart would be given to beating, hammering, roaring, bursting! Aye, now at last she would [i]live[/i]- truly live! Bright-Eye tore through the storm, swept away from the grinning god in the storm, the god with amber eyes and glinting sword, and she returned to her people all black and mighty and oh so very very bright-eyed. She laughed at their awe, she grinned at their curiosity, she gloated as they fell in worship before her. She did not cease from telling them of the god she had beheld, did not think it unwise to speak all her bright bright eyes had seen. “This I was granted for my boldness! Now my heart beats as never before! Now my flame is immortal! Now I don’t fear the cold or the storm! Now I only wonder - I have the divine Tama flame, I have the divine Tama flame, I have aaaaaaaaaaaaaaall the divine Tama flame!” She crowed and rejoiced and gloated as she tip-tapped and floated and burst about the tunnel where everyone else was hiding away. The storm passed and Bright-Eye’s clan bore patiently her endless gloating. They sailed out to sea and bore patiently her fearless swimming and jumping into the water. She did not help much, but in all ways pursued her pleasure. “Tama! Tama!” They would cry out - for that was what they called her now - “catch us a fish Tama, catch us the biggest fish there is!” But Tama only laughed and cooed, she had no need for fish and food, she had no mortal needs at all! When she shot up into the island’s air - so mighty was her thick black flame, so far beyond their power was she - they called up to her, “Tama! Oh Tama! Catch us a bird Tama, catch us the biggest bird there is!” But Tama only laughed and cooed, prancing with the birds above and never hunting them, not one. She had no need for birds and food, she had no mortal needs at all! When storms came and the clan was huddled in the tunnel, she did not huddle there with them but skipped and laughed and played without pause. “Tama! Oh Tama!” They cried from their cave, “bring us rocks, brings us earth, let us play with you too.” But Tama only laughed and cooed, prancing free in the wind and rain. She had no need for rocks and earth, these sights alone made her heart leap - no, she had no mortal needs at all. “Forget about Tama,” Sizzle-Tongue spoke, “she will not listen to aught we say. She has no need for any of us now, she has no mortal needs at all!” And some despaired at this declaration, and others thought it terrible and bad, and they grew angry at Tama and blamed her for all their hardships and woes. “Oh if only Tama could feel our pain.” Some would moan. “Surely then she would not be so selfish. Surely then she would share her flame with all. Oh if only she knew the terror of the storm, if only she knew how terrible lightning, how frightening thunder, how deathly rain, surely then she would feel our pain.” And there were rumbles of agreement, and there was anger towards Tama. “Well then let us catch her and throw her down, let us take the flame from her!” One bold and bright-eyed porry declared - and his name was Flame-Heart. There were cries of shock and grunts of assent, and in their hearts they were all agreed. Yes, they would catch Tama Bright-Eye and take the flame from her. Then she would know their pain. They stalked her when the sun was high. She thought it a funny game. “Come Tama! Come Tama!” They cried to her. “Come down and let us play with you.” They called affectedly. But Tama thought it more fun to twist and taunt and stay just out of reach. Round and round the isle they chased, through the trees and across the beach. Up the mount she flitted at speed, passing over the strange gray stranger that they had emerged from their tunnels one day to find up there, sitting in silent meditation. One day it was not, and then it was, that odd metal thing, unmoving and unmoved. Tama flew about its head and laughed - aye, for it looked like a gray porry, a cold porry with no headlight. And all around the metal porry’s place on the summit her clan chased her. Oh what fun Tama was having, oh how joyous to lead the clan hither thither as she pleased, up and down the mount, across the beach and into the forests and back again and again. But ah, ‘twas not to last- for as she was busy taunting (as she had done so many times before) sharp-eyed Flame-Heart leapt forth suddenly and caught her by the leg. “Aha, Tama! I have caught you!” He cried triumphantly. “Oh Flame-Heart!” She laughed. “So you have!” And she made to release herself from his grip, but his hand held tight and his eyes were hard crystals in the flame. “You have not been good to us, Tama. You have been selfish and bad. You have not shared the divine flame- you have not helped us at all.” He spoke sadly as all the others gathered around her. “What do you mean, Flame-Heart? I have been having fun - you all never wanted to have fun! Only I wanted it, and that’s why I was given the Tama. The Tama is not for hunting and work! The Tama is not for hiding away in fear! The Tama is for the brave and the bold and the joyous and the living!” She struggled, but the hands of the others were upon her now. “We too want to be brave and bold and joyous and living, Tama. We too want that!” Flame-Heart declared, and the others roared in agreement even as the first hungering lips fell on her form and began to drink in her flame. She cried out in protest, she kicked and twisted and turned, but they supped on her flame for hours - its darkness turned to violet, its violet turned to blue, its blue became white, and then at last even that white became yellow and orange and even after that became a dull and flickering red. “Now we have the tama!” They cried out when she was spent. “We have the tama! We have the tama!” They sang and laughed and danced about her weak form, and then they left her there and went leaping and prancing about the isle. They forgot all about Bright-Eye - she had forgotten them too when she had the divine flame. And when the storm came again they all rushed - as they by instinct knew to do - back into their tunnels and stared out into the rain. Some thought, in their hearts, that they had the tama now, that they could brave the storm. They thought it strongly, their eyes hanging on the world outside. But not one of them stepped forth, no, not one. “But…” one of them murmured, “where is Bright-Eye?” And none saw Bright-Eye, for Bright-Eye was not there. They thought they heard laughter in the storm, thought they heard the pitter-pattering of feet, thought they saw a black-flame dash across the dark heavens. That is what they thought; when next they walked where they had left Bright-Eye they found only scorched remnants and fading footprints that disappeared into the sea. Oh, they knew it then, they knew it well. The tama was gone! “The tama is gone!” They cried out in horror and fear. “It’s gone!” They ran in circles and slapped their own faces and tore at their burning scalps. “No! No!” Flame-Heart shouted, silencing them all. “Not gone, not gone at all. It’s here, all here, in us.” And their eyes widened in realisation - and some backed away in fear while others stepped forth, eyes glinting with dark intent. “No!” The cowardly cried out en masse as they turned tail and ran. “You can’t!” They cried. But oh, they could. They most certainly could. [list][*][hider=Summary]A porry called Bright-Eye is adventurous. She runs out into the storm and dances with Wehi Tama (who now has four arms). For her bravery and wonder she is granted the divine tama (basically, something akin to Polynesian mana). This makes her flame so hot that it becomes black and basically means she no longer has mortal needs. Anyhow, her tribe grows jealous and eventually cannibalises her flame, thus spreading the tama amongst the entire population. They realise, towards the end when Bright-Eye is gone, that they are now the only source of tama and must consume one another if they want anymore. Not in the post, but it is likely that they’ll realise at some later point that they can grow what tama they already have by other means too.[/hider] [*][hider=Expenditure] Wehi Tama - 0 MP/2 AP — 4 AP (discounted to 2 AP) to create tama. Tama is a powerful spiritual flame and life force that any porry can cultivate by doing wondrous deeds or consuming the tama of another in an inexhaustible number of ways - whether direct cannibalism or any kind of challenge, from dueling to chess to a battle of wits to successfully tricking or deceiving someone etc. Beings with greater tama are hotter, less vulnerable to the elements and water, can be physically stronger, and if they have enough tama can even fly and carry out other bizarre and wondrous things beyond the bounds of reason. Wehi Tama - 0 MP/0 AP[/hider][/list]