CALAMITY !

『 I』T’S ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE REFLECTIONS: of a dream, or a memory, involuntarily repressed to the point of being unrecognizable. DEJA VU? a semi-sweet kiss at the nape of his neck —  DRIPPING SWEAT AND BLOOD. RED HOOD. MOUTH OF A VOLCANO. BLURRING ASH. “ IT’S GOING TO AWAKEN REAL SOON! HEHEHE ! ” — it ? wela volcano rumbles underneath tabitha’s feet and THIS IS A DREAM, another trip-and-fall down into DISSOCIATION. 

even at the torch-lit mouth of the park’s gates, you can spot the faint, neon glow of the grand hano resort. it reminds tabitha of somewhere back in hoenn; something fluorescent and welcoming, but not to the likes of him. mau --- game co --- no mag --- allowed ! 

and normally, at the peak of night, akala settles down to sleep --- the streets of even the busiest cities near vacant, welcome silence. but, summer had given the island much of what it needed. their cause for celebration, unaltered. the harvest came bountiful, and tonight, the islanders will thank their gods and deities for treasures, materialistic and otherwise. 

homura o’callaghan --- he’s heard his name muttered on more than one occasion --- he’s a fire-dancer, alright! yeah, the next kiawe! tabitha’s performance will, undoubtedly, precede his usual practice of stumbling off elsewhere. 

“ aye, bastard ! ” tabitha yips, hissing at the hot lick of flames against his knuckles. he pulls his hand from his poi, dropping it to the gravel. the fire fights to stay alight.  

“ cursing the fire isn’t going to cause it to yield to you. you have to master it , ” another fire-dancer, one of kiawe’s right-hand men, chimes in. the man --- not quite as tall as tabitha, and certainly not as broadly built --- approaches him with some rise to his chin, and a hint of swagger that makes tabitha curl his lip. the advice, he finds unwarranted. “ hey, loosen up . ” 

the fire-dancer offers tabitha something he kept tucked behind his ear --- a tobacco leaf, rolled neat and tight, that he kneels down to light with the last flickers of tabitha’s poi. he takes a few puffs before handing it over. though hesitant, tabitha accepts. “ boy, you sure are an enigma, omega . ”

“ what ? ” tabitha snaps, nearly choking on the smoke expelling from his mouth and nose. “ what the hell ya just call me ? ” “ omega. we’ve started calling you that around here, hope you don’t mind. homura doesn’t seem to fit quite right, and o’callaghan can be a mouthful. it’s nothing bad. it means ‘the last of the pack’ in some ancient language. we found a lot of symbols in the volcano pretty close to your arrival. kiawe thinks the island deity did ‘em as a sign --- so, we do, too . ” again, tabitha sputters, “ the what ? ” but, the fact that others are aware of his incessant etchings doesn’t go ignored. at this, he grits his teeth. 

instead of a reply, tabitha receives a hearty chuckle and a pat on the back. it’s too friendly, and causes him to flinch --- something he hopes goes unnoticed. though he understands he has a lot to learn about his new home, tabitha doesn’t dwell on the mention of an island deity much longer. 

the crowd in the park begins to thicken, and tabitha decides it’s time to meet up with the rest of the fire-dancers. as he reaches for his poi, someone rudely collides into his shoulder. tabitha barely turns his head to glare at the culprit --- a young, island boy; nearly a foot shorter than him. horror fills the boy’s wide eyes. he stammers on, apologetically. whatever goods he was carrying probably didn’t survive the impact. 

a red, sticky syrup had splattered on tabitha’s forearm --- food? squinting, tabitha wipes the malasada sauce off with the back of his hand, and brings it to his lips. the texture and taste pair well with the dryness of his mouth, the residue of rum. and there’s something familiar about the flavors. they transport him --- to another one of those dreams, but it feels much more recent. his mind’s eye sees a shoreline, the foam curling around his ankles. and it’s sunset --- all orange and pink and warm --- which reminds him of the first time he’s tasted them; how the sun never set in hoenn; how all he remembers is heat.