[ closed ]

[futurologists]

At dusk, she comes from the sea. Pomarr walks up the slope of the shore under the water as if it were no more than a stroll up a slight hill, then up the sandy beach with slow, measured steps. Water drips from her dull fur, and even the glow of her deep blue eyes looks muted in the slowly fading light. She is not a creature made for the day anymore, even sunset seems not to suit her nature. The Dakal can sense the off-worlders closest to her, and even without lifting her head from its droop, makes her way unerringly toward them, wherever they may be found. They may not be the same ones she had met with back on her own island, but it doesn’t matter. They will carry the word. She has bad news to deliver, but she had promised to do it. It must be given, one way or another.

Comments

[futurologists]

It seems she is no longer able to keep up her head, and addresses the sand underfoot as she answers.

"For Nalanni, you will need no tricks. She is as close to mortal now as she has ever been. For Ryba..." That will be a trickier matter. "In ten days, board your recovered warship. Come to Dakal. I will guide you."

[boneafide]

Of course Koltira would want to know how to best defeat the goddesses. He's been aiming for that for a while now. But that's Koltira's prerogative, isn't it? Even if Papyrus quietly disapproves, he won't make a peep on that.

For now, he can focus on the good they've done.

"Thank you for believing in us! Maybe once this is all over... we can talk again, if you'd like!" She might still be grieving, but what better time to throw yourself into a completely new world with new people, right?? But helping people forget about their problems is one of his strong suits.

[futurologists]

She nods, even if it's slow and a little uncertain. The rain lessens somewhat at the same time, becoming more sporadic.

"Yes... we will speak again." Later, though. She steps back, preparing to depart, but casts one more look over the lot of them. "Thank you."

[twinpeak]

Luckily, the rain is little bother with the baseball cap Dipper always wears; his face is mostly spared, and the rest of him can dry off later. He's a kid used to playing around in nature, after all. Instead, he manages a small, thankful, and relieved smile when Pomarr gives them one last glance.

"Anytime," Dipper says, giving her a tiny wave. "Then we'll seeya later."

[futurologists]

Her eyes find Dipper last, and the barest hint of a smile crosses her gray, forlorn face. Then she turns fully away and shifts to move, and has faded from sight even before her foot lands in a first step. The rain will continue for several more hours before fading into the night as well.