WEEK THREE MATCH CEREMONY

[potatomance]

ᯓ⭐ WEEK THREE MATCH CEREMONY

It's That Time! Again! Woohoo! Step on up, take your seats, place your bets and pray for mercy!

It is once again the same set-up, so you'd all better be looking spiffy and spruced-up.

Riri looks the same as always, but that's because it's Riri.

"Let's see how you did this time? Lucy the Pussy is up first, so don't waste our time and get up here already!"

This is why Riri doesn't have any friends, maybe.

Comments

[alcoheal]

[Help...shortening their names by combining them because he's too lazy to speak the full things aloud? He's even lazier than she is, in some ways. She chuckles, waving him off with her hand.]

Please, I wasn't implying that you did. It just sounded like something I might have heard before.

They're almost complete opposites, except in one way. Mithra does as he pleases, and I can't imagine Dr. Brenner is one who likes anything getting in his way. [So he, too, will do whatever he wants with little consideration for what others think.

Manuela pauses and looks back at the water and the reflections on its surface.] ... This is so irritating.

[cosmoid]

I wonder, if matches were done on a surface and assumptive level, if there's anything to be gleaned from the profiles.

[ he has nothing else more to say on brenner and mithra, manuela knows them both better than he does and the most he could say about them is that brenner tries to solve everything with logic, and that mithra doesn't know what he wants in the way a child doesn't quite know either but keeps stumbling forward anyway.

it is irritating though, to have to try to sort out picks like this when he had thought that there would be some degree of emotion and connectivity involved, both in the group and within the bounds of the rules of the game. ]

[alcoheal]

Who knows? It wouldn't hurt.

[... But that's not all that irritating, and it's not even really at the crux of her frustration right now. Manuela prickles, realizing she can't keep having this conversation right now, not tonight.]

I can't believe you just basically told me I'm not good enough, and after that, all we can do is sit here and talk about the same things we have all week.

[She pulls her legs out of the water as if she's thinking about leaving it behind.]

[cosmoid]

[ his gaze follows the movement of the water like always, as he listens. perhaps frustratingly he doesn't stir, remaining seated. he could answer that outcry and perhaps he should, but he does not.

uroko is the scale of the sea god and as such, this is his nature even amidst turbulent seas. ]


What would you like to talk about, Manuela?

[alcoheal]

[There's a nasty voice in the back of her head that thinks it's too late for that. What's the point in talking when the path is already decided?

Manuela has never once in her life been a quitter. When she leaves something behind, it's of her own volition. She tries to quiet that cruel little voice, though it mostly ends up with her flopped on her back on the hardtop surface beside the pool.]

I don't know. What you dream of doing. What your perfect future looks like. What you'd use your wish for, like we're still gonna get those.

[cosmoid]

These are questions for one not the scale of the Sea God.

[ ... ]

I did not have a dream of my own before coming here, nor did I have a wish. The future I want to see is one where the sea and land can live in harmony—where they can speak to one another and settle their differences.

[alcoheal]

Well, excuse me for asking then. [She's not proud of it, but she does snap at him when her questions feel inadequate for what he is, just another point in what feels like a humiliating losing score.

She settles down and falls silent for a while.]

... That sort of future sounds nice. Is it difficult for you to imagine, or do you think they'll be able to achieve it?

[cosmoid]

You can ask anything you want, but that doesn't mean I'll have an answer.

[ truthful if blunt, but he doesn't sound off put. ]

It requires the Sea God to accept something he hasn't wanted to face in nearly a millennium, to open his ears to children's pleas. They are ready, but he is not. I am only an intermediary between the two.

[alcoheal]

That kind of time must not mean much to anyone who has so much of it.

[For humans and anyone else with a normal lifespan (or rather, a "shorter" lifespan, though she doesn't really think of it in those terms), many lives would have passed in the time it took for the Sea God to even think about coming around. The world for them would have to be a much different place.]

Can he even say his children are the same people now? I think keeping their belief alive for so long is an extraordinary thing. [She sighs thoughtfully. Her faith has always supported her throughout her life, but even Manuela has to admit that seeing some injustices in the world sometimes makes it waver.] They must love him very much.

[cosmoid]

Only his children can live, breathe in the sea. When they mix with the land, their children cannot venture under the waves.

But there are not many of them left, as devoted as they are. That's why he's invoked an eternal winter, in his ire. The Sea can sleep, but the land will freeze.

[ it's rote not mechanical, spoken more properly than he usually does. like beats of a story he tells it all respectfully but with some distance.

she's right that the things he usually concerns himself with would be foreign to her and regular lived beings but—he is the scale of the Sea God. ]