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]

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. ]