diademlogs | (open) the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

Entry tags:

(open) the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

Who: sciel and YOU!
Where: various, click in for prompts
When: throughout february & march
What: a big ol' catchall for a new arrival

Warnings: will be marked in subject lines. co33 spoilers will also be marked if they come up.

beyond the specific prompts below, sciel is reasonably likely to be found doing the following things:

fighting in the dome, for any potential spectators, fellow combatants, or people she meets after matches

advertising tarot readings around various city streets for 2JL per reading (with a tip jar on the little table she's schlepping around, for especially happy customers). there may or may not be a little radio nearby playing music.

having fun at nashville bowling center, whether in a lane by herself or at the arcade machines

on a rainy day, catching a movie (probably something cheesy) at luxfilms and absolutely having a running commentary going, which fortunately seems to be socially acceptable

exploring an abandoned mall in a diffusion zone, possibly doing some light looting

perusing the flower cart once she first notices it

reading a pamphlet for the matriarchs outside their church when she passes it on the street

you can also plot with me via pm or at

kairaptor,
and of course, pre-existing CR is always welcome to drop a message in her inbox.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Since learning that her friends — the two other people from home who're in the city — had been hired to play music in one of the local bistros, Sciel has been like a dog with a bone. The contact list in her phone isn't particularly lengthy (yet), but that doesn't stop her from blasting out a message to everyone in it relaying the when and where of Lune and Verso's first show. However long their tenure at this location ends up being, it almost doesn't matter: she was never going to pass on any opportunity to hype up her fellow Expeditioners, particularly with how musically-inclined they both are.

So: those Sciel has met and exchanged numbers with will receive a message as soon as she herself gets word that the show is on, to the effect of:

hi, it's sciel!
two of my good friends are going to be performing tonight.
music, specifically. i assume it'll be piano and guitar.
it's tonight at odd duck bistro. the one across the street from the gas station that's always got a loud buzzing coming from it?
i'll be there to support them, and i'd love for their first show to be a big success!
so it'd be great to see you there. we'll say drinks are on me.
merci!
- sciel

That evening, as promised, she's taken up residence in the corner of the bistro in question, elbows propped up on the table as she listens to the performance, drink forgotten at her side.

Those who received her message can grab a seat next to her, and those who just happen to be there at the time of the show are also welcome to strike up conversation with the woman who either definitely knows the musicians, or is otherwise just their number one fan.

(Hint: she's both.) ]

( cloud is here because it's sciel who asked (should he be hurt that verso didn't mention anything?), and he figured that the 'piano' was verso and that the 'guitar' might be lune. lune plays too? he's heard verso enough, so getting to hear lune playing is the least he can do.

though this isn't his kind of scene, the important thing about being in this world and trying to make it big for himself is to nourish important, friendly relationships. it feels like he's back at the slums, sometimes, trying to put into practice the things that both tifa and aerith taught him; if they could see him now, maybe they would be proud of him.

when he shows up, he spots sciel at her table and makes a beeline for it. )

This seat taken?

[ There are a lot of things to do the city — working long hours to earn a meager living being chief among them — so she has no expectations when she sends out the mass text. As such, it's both a surprise and a delight to see a familiar figure appear in the bistro, and it shows as much in her face as Cloud approaches. ]

It is now! [ It's most likely that he'd deigned to come by as she'd requested, rather than just happening to be at the right place at the right time, so she receives him with a bright smile, patting the seat next to her. ] Thanks for coming. Not sure either of them will love the attention, but I wasn't going to let their first show go unannounced.

[ Sciel is the #1 cheerleader of all her loved ones, okay. No matter what Verso and Lune set out to do in this city, she's confident they'll succeed, and she plans to hype them up at every opportunity. ]

This is also a great opportunity for me to buy you that drink I promised. [ She notes, perking up with the memory. ] Unless you'd rather another time?

( sciel has the superpower of being incredibly easygoing, taking a seat and finding himself warmed by the gesture of her so excitedly patting the seat beside her. did she expect no one to answer her invitation? not that cloud things she would have been put off by it, nor blamed anyone for not showing up. )

You really think Verso won't like it?

( cloud's idea of verso is that the guy likes the attention and making himself look good. maybe not quite in those terms, but close enough? )

I didn't know Lune played.

( —and sciel doesn't? he's learning much. he grows a touch embarrassed at remembering that she did promise him a drink. )

Uh, just a soda is fine. ( remembering that sciel comes from the same world as verso's, he elaborates, ) The carbonated-type drinks.

( he has a promise to keep re: drinking a proper drink! )

[ The question gives her pause, and Sciel leans back in her seat a little, eyes drifting to the pair of Expeditioners in the corner. ]

...Well, no. I think he probably would, honestly. They're both performers, they're probably used to it to some degree. And I think it's been a long time since Verso in particular's been able to play for a crowd. Guess I meant more like...they might be surprised?

[ Maybe not, though, considering they both know Sciel well enough to expect nothing less. ]

She hasn't had as much time for it. [ Well, neither of them has, but Lune's life has been much shorter. Much more full then, comparatively, of prepping for the Expedition. ] I'm really happy they've got this chance.

[ It clearly brings both Verso and Lune so much joy, and they both deserve it. That and more.

His request earns him a little nod — soda, sure, she can do that — before she scoots her chair back and stands. ]

Be right back! [ And she is. In no time, she returns from the bar holding a glass of what he'd definitely requested: unflavoured soda water. Which she sets down in front of him before retaking her own seat. ] So, how've you been since I last saw you?

[ Back in Lumière, they'd had some fairly nice green spaces. No sprawling, perfectly-curated landscapes or anything, but passable stretches of grass and trees that received care from whatever citizen had time and energy to spare on their upkeep. The result had been surprisingly good, offering pockets of green around the small and fractured city for those in need of it.

This...isn't really like that. The 'parks' of Panorama generally seem to be much more overgrown and clearly underutilized with weeds reaching as high as your knees in places. None of that has stopped Sciel from making use of them, though; she's come across a few in her travels and has gone as far as to lie in the grass (where it's not uncomfortable to do so) to try and catch sight of the sky above.

When she wakes up on this particular day, she slips out of the residence she now shares with Lune and wanders the streets in large circles around their flat. Along that path she finds one of these overgrown spaces, and one that, while still in a state of relative disrepair, has at least most of the ground visible (and a swing set, which catches her eye). The real point of coming here, though, had been to do some stretches in a place that at least feels like it's got some fresh air, and so she begins to do exactly that. Sciel finds some space in the middle of the grassy square where she won't hit any rusty equipment, draws a deep breath (it still smells mostly like gasoline), and then falls into a simple, but thorough, routine. Neck and shoulder rolls, forward fold, hamstring stretch...

It's not so bad, really. Nicer place to limber up than anywhere else she's found in the area, at least so far. ]

[ Working as a taxi driver — er, taxi cyclist — hasn't been too bad. It's certainly been helpful in meeting some of the other newbies, or those who pass for locals, and for keeping herself fed and housed (more or less) in the first month of her residency. But as the weeks stretch on and it becomes clear she isn't going back to the Continent anytime soon, Sciel decides that the time had come to find something else to do to earn her keep.

(She doesn't tear down any of the taxi flyers, though, so when those calls come in, she does still answer.)

The Well is a pretty unpleasant dive bar not far from where she's living, now that she's moved out of the motel. It's dark, dingy, and uncomfortably sticky in places, which is probably why they'd had room on their staff to hire a new arrival. And while Sciel hasn't officially bartended anywhere before, she'd only stretched the truth somewhat in the brief conversation that served as her 'interview,' relying mainly on her personality and enthusiasm for drinking to get her in the door. It'd apparently worked, as she can be found there during all of the worst shifts, such as just shy of midnight on a Tuesday, or before noon on Sundays.

But...a job's a job. So she stands behind the bar making easy conversation with the sparse clientele that find their way in, and otherwise busies herself with learning how to make the drinks that are requested, given she's never heard of most of them... ]

[ The Well is definitely below his standards. The people who drink here won't likely have enough joolies worth charming someone out of or pick-pocketing. But one must never say never, and Astarion is developing a standard of living he isn't willing to part with any time soon. So one must always be at least somewhat "on the job", as it were.

Crime. Crime is his job. It pays the bills, at least. And you're your own boss. What more could you want?

It isn't long after entering that Astarion already feels he has a decent take on the place already. A man lays slumped in a chair, half-leaning on the wall with several glasses in front of him. Another pair talk loudly about personal problems that aren't quite egregious enough to be interesting to eaves drop on nor make them clear targets. But the bartender... ]

Well, what do we have here?

[ He recognizes her. How could he not? He made an absolute fool of himself at the motel with that betrayer of a cat. She had taken it all in stride, of course, but Astarion has to act like he wasn't the idiot here. So he saunters on up to the bar with the air of someone who frequents places better than this. Which he does. ]

I see you've opened yourself up to more human clientele.

[ Sciel isn't expecting to see anyone she knows...not because it's a bar, or even because it's a shitty bar, but because it's shitty hours at the shitty bar. So it's a (pleasant!) surprise when a familiar figure does approach, and it shows in the way her face brightens the dim space. ]

Had to. Turns out cats don't tip well. [ The little thing had been the kind of freeloader Astarion had warned her about, but alas. It'd proven impossible to ignore it, and so she'd continued to feed the creature every time it'd come knocking. ] We'll see if the human clientele are markedly better, though.

[ Implication: there hasn't been a lot of work. Fortunate, then, that she isn't paid based on foot traffic. Though...it'd help with the aforementioned tips, and also with keeping the lights on. ]

Either this is very much your kind of place, [ Sciel says slowly, assessing him with a scrutinizing sweep of the eyes. ] or it very much isn't. So, which is it?

[ Among the myriad things she's been working to learn since her arrival, figuring out how to drive — and drive the motorcycle specifically — is very high on the list. Practice makes perfect, the say, but this vehicle is a fickle beast. It'd started spewing acrid smoke before she'd even made it to Panorama the first time, after all, and she shudders to think what might've happened had Cloud not flagged her down and suggested she get the piston rings replaced. Even with that taken care of, the bike has proven more finicky than she (a completely inexperienced driver) could have guessed.

As such, most of her time on or around the thing so far has been devoted to making sure it's safe to ride at all, considering her main source of income had been shuttling people around on it. There hasn't been quite as much time available to refine her driving, as has been pointed out by friends and paying customers alike. ]

Okay. [ But, finally, the stars have begun to align, providing her with both time to practise and a bike that seems like it's actually, finally, in decent shape. So she's ridden it out of the city and onto the surrounding roads in the Fringes, experimenting a bit with speed and sharp turns since there's nobody (else) on board to put at risk. ] Steady...

[ It doesn't go badly. She's far from an expert, but there's an undeniable exhilaration to riding a motorbike that solidifies to Sciel that she'd made the right choice in choosing a vehicle for herself. So she spends a happy few hours tearing down the long stretch of road she'd first come down after waking up near the Scrapyard, occasionally whooping gleefully, occasionally also making too sharp a turn or going a little too fast and correcting herself...eventually. ]

( for any of the prompts in the above & more )

[ Jasnah has been watching Sciel for the better part of twenty minutes. From across the street, through the narrow front window of a venue that sorta tries to be a coffee shop by day, but abandons all such pretense by night.

It's not a refined establishment. The counters are scuffed; the machine is temperamental; the floor is perpetually tacky beneath one's boots. But the owner — laissez-faire to the point of negligence — had merely squinted at her one leather glove and admitted lack of experience before hiring her anyway. He'd laughed when she'd told him she'd never made coffee before. And then he said something about how it was good to have someone with a hard stare behind the bar. Err, cafe counter. He distinctly and carefully corrected himself to say cafe counter.

So now she learns! And that learning curve is humiliatingly steep: grind size and extraction time; the alchemy of pressure and heat. Her first attempts had been undrinkable. Bitter, acrid, and thin. At some point, she thinks a little too sincerely about how much Navani would love this machine. Much more so than Jasnah does. But she does love practice and research and repetition. And repetition breeds competence. Competence breeds profit. And she needs joolies.

The morning rush had been brief and chaotic. Since then, the narrow space — barely wide enough for four or five customers to stand at a time — has been quiet, leaving her to practice and to fail in private. On the plus side, she's far, far less paranoid about drinking something she prepares herself.

And all the while, she has been aware of Sciel across the street. Not a friend, but a known variable. And that counts for something in a city of unknowns. So when it comes time to close for the afternoon — hours before the bar shift arrives to open the space again for its night-time iteration — Jasnah locks the door with deliberate care. She balances two takeaway cups in one hand, steady despite the awkwardness. Crossing the street feels strangely like stepping between roles. Barista to...whatever else she is. Not a queen, at any rate. Not any longer.

As she approaches, her expression is already drawn into something between disdain and concern. ]

Sciel. [ A greeting, albeit not a warm one. ] What fresh enterprise is this?

[ She doesn't immediately offer the second cup. But it's obvious and conspicuous as a confession. The crossing of the street hadn't afforded her sufficient time to rehearse the gesture. And Jasnah isn't looking forward to improvising her generosity. ]

[ Sciel has set up shop on a handful of different street corners thus far, finding varying degrees of success at each of them. This particular locale is a new one, and so she has no idea that the coffee shop-turned-bar-turned-coffee shop has employed a woman she's met twice before. That is...until Jasnah exits and crosses the street, approaching with two cups in hand, wearing what Sciel has come to expect is her usual, somewhat wary expression. ]

We keep meeting like this. [ The Expeditioner shifts where she sits, straightening up a bit to affix Jasnah with eyes that crinkle with amused disbelief. ] Unless you've been following me to keep me out of trouble?

[ Kidding! That would be an impossible task. So she proceeds to answer the question rather than waiting for the refute, sweeping a hand over the tabletop where only her sign and tip jar sit.

(She notices the coffee, of course, but doesn't presume.) ]

This is tarot. [ She explains. There's a little flash of chroma and a card appears between her fingers (it's the Empress, though its back is to Jasnah). ] Not sure if you've got this back home, but it's...a reading. Most people usually have a question, and the cards provide guidance.

[ Crucially: not fortune telling!! ]

[ She takes the joke — unless you've been following me to keep me out of trouble — as its intended and answers with a dry snort of laughter. Well, something like laughter. Perhaps it's closer to a scoffing. Either way, it's a touch gentler than a roll of her eyes.

Jasnah still holds on to both coffees. She'll get around to it. Eventually. For now... ]

Guidance?

[ She asks, with a light inflection at the end of that one word. Something between an invitation and an imperative to elaborate. She'd kept a remarkably straight face as the card had flickered into Sciel's hand, but can't quite help the curious tilt of her head. Storms, but the act of conjuring that card is more interesting than the card itself. ]

Guidance. [ Sciel repeats, nodding. ] The cards all hold unique meanings, and there are a few ways to go about it, but the gist is that they can...help people figure out what to do next, or...how to think about things in a different way.

[ She pauses before adding, though with a delicate tone: ] A lot of people say it's fortune telling, like predicting the future, but that isn't right. If you find someone saying as much, they're a fraud.

[ With that, she returns the card to the deck at large and sits it atop the table, looking with pleasant interest up at her fellow fluxdrift. ]

...I'd offer to show you what I mean free of charge, so you'd have more of an idea, but I think that would offend you. [ beat ] I could charge you double instead, if that's better?

[ Fortune telling. Beware those who say they can see the future — a sentiment she's heard not only from the ardentia, but from Hoid too. Except — except she had met a fortune teller. Once. And the things she'd predicted...

Jasnah shakes her head, but mostly to herself. Regardless of what she believes or whether she requires guidance, she recognizes an opportunity when she sees one.

She lifts one of the cups. ]

How much guidance can I get in exchange for a coffee?

[ Smooth. Although she does say coffee a little like she's only learned the word within the past four days. And that's because she did indeed only learn it four days ago. ]

[ Somehow, the offer — or at least, the way it's presented — surprises her. And so the smile grows, teeth flashing in a particularly pleased display. ]

Hopefully, however much you need.

[ Sciel will take the cup when it's offered, lifting it in silent salute to Jasnah before bringing it to her lips. It's still hot, but not scalding enough to stop her from taking that first, experimental sip. ]

Mm, very good. [ In an ideal world she probably would've added some cream, but it's not going to ruin her day to drink it black.

Her payment received, Sciel sets the coffee delicately beside her before withdrawing the other small, folding chair that'd been stowed against the wall behind her. She unfolds it with a vigorous shake of her arm before setting it down on the other side of the little table, gesturing for her repeat customer to take a seat. ]

It's easier for me to interpret if I know your question, [ Sciel begins, taking the deck into her hands and shuffling through it a few times. ] but if you'd prefer to keep it to yourself, I can work with that, too.

[ A slight crinkle in her expressions= suggests she finds Sciel's verdict — very good — to be overstated and likely more polite than accurate. Surely, no one masters coffee-making in four days. But Jasnah doesn't quibble with a point in her favour.

Instead, she takes a careful seat in the newly unfolded chair. What a dreadful position to be in — back to the street and any passersby while Sciel (rightfully) takes a position of some prominence facing the other direction. Better for advertising, she imagines. But sitting here makes Jasnah feel a little vulnerable and exposed — glancing over her shoulder as someone 'rounds their way by on the sidewalk. ]

...A question?

[ She catches up to the conversation, glancing back at the woman. Jasnah buys time with a mouthful of her own coffee. Long black, because she doesn't like sugar and cow's milk doesn't agree with her. She can't say she necessarily enjoys the coffee, but it's good to have something to drink made by her own hand.

But, storms, what sort of question does she even want to ask? Truthfully, she doesn't even know what tarot truly is and she already doesn't put much stock in it. Sciel said it wasn't fortune-telling, but something of it still stinks of the Hierocracy. Or of...

Jasnah pushes the thought away, humming. ]

Should I find somewhere else to stay? [ ... ] Motel fees are bleeding my joolies dry, but it also feels rather premature to make any long-term, permanent decisions within the city.

[ Safe enough. There was no way she was going to ask a question related to the much bigger, more looming problems back home. ]

[ Sciel watches Jasnah's back. She would do as much with any customer, given the (well-earned) crime-ridden reputation of the city. It'd probably be easy for someone to bump into the other woman and swipe any easily-accessible joolies, and so the Expeditioner makes sure to look pointedly at everyone who passes...just in case.

It isn't long before her client comes up with a question, though, and she smiles politely in return. There's only a curt nod before she shuffles the deck again, glancing up only to make a suggestion: ] Focus on the question. [ Before bring the cards together again and offering them to Jasnah. ] And cut the deck?

[ The answer is "yes, you should find somewhere else to stay." The motels are all terrible, from what she's been able to tell from her own experiences and those of the others, and as Jasnah says, they make it difficult to build savings. The real questions, then, are when she should find somewhere else, and how long should she spend in this place, and how much is enough to have saved. Other facets that will help shape the circumstances of the next steps that lead her to something better.

The form that advice will take remains to be seen, of course. So she waits to the deck to be cut and returned, continuing to glance up at any passers-by in the meantime. ]

[ There are small concerns nibbling at the back of her thoughts. It's about more than what she can afford or whether it's better or worse to wait for the Perfect Space to go on the market. It's about what it means — spiritually to move from temporary housing to something more, well, permanent. Not unlike the way a wound doesn't heal if you've already sewn it into your identity. Your perception of yourself. If she lays roots, will those roots make it harder to get back home home?

These are the questions swirling in her mind as she reaches out (freehand, bare) and cuts the deck.

Perhaps unhelpfully, however, Jasnah doesn't feel compelled to pepper the moment with any additional commentary or questions. She lets Sciel get to work. ]</small

[ It's far from unhelpful. Sciel watches Jasnah (between watching her back), takes the deck when it's returned, and lets her experience with the near-stranger — plus her question — guide her. ]

Okay. [ And without further ado, she produces the card, laying it between them. ] The Page of Wands. Upright. The suit, Wands, is associated with a lot of things: intuition, determination, ambition and expansion. Its element is fire, which...you can probably make some assumptions there, but for our purposes can symbolize both creativity and destruction. Fire's thought of as a 'masculine' element — [ Here she employs air quotes, to show her disagreement. ] and so often represents drive and willpower.

[ All of these traits, she thinks, might easily be attributed to the woman before her. Or so she thinks, from her scant time in Jasnah's presence. And, fortunately, they set up quite nicely to answer the question at hand. ]

Now: the Page of Wands. He signals...a sort of limitless potential. Discovery, inspiration, and ideas. [ The card displays a young man holding a staff, gazing wonderingly up at it, but rooted to the ground. ] He's excited about the possibilities laid out in front of him, but hasn't taken action...yet. You can see behind him that the land's barren, but his staff has got fresh sprouts on it, suggesting he can make something from nothing. That his circumstances needn't be a limiting factor.

[ True of most of the fluxdrifts, perhaps. There is opportunity to be seized. And though not everyone is the sort of person to take advantage, this is about Jasnah.

As Sciel continues, she looks more and more at ease, as if slipping into a comfortable pair of shoes. It's the first reading she's done since her arrival, and the familiarity clearly grounds her. ] So. The Page is confident in himself and is eager to get started on something new, but...this card tells us to wait. That there're still details to be worked out first. So, the guidance here is to map out your strategy for a while longer before taking action, and to test out a few things before committing. Maybe in your case, that means looking for another motel that's a little better [ whether that means cheaper, or less run-down ] before committing to a true next step up. Ask around for the recommendations of some of the others who've been here a little longer. Or, it might just mean staying where you are for the moment and finding a way to increase your savings more quickly. A job, if you don't have one? Or a second job, possibly, if that's what it takes.

[ She straightens up, hands moving to her lap as she summarizes: ]

Don't make any dramatic moves yet, but do stay open to experiences. Look for advice from those who might know better. And...keep planning for your future. It isn't as far off as it could seem.

[ A low, slow, and derisive exhale through her nose when fire is described as a masculine element. Certainly, her skepticism on that front well-matches sciel's air quotes. Part of her wants to take that suggestion and use it as ammunition to disbelief this entire process; the other part of her wants to scratch the surface and learn how, when, why such associations ever got made. She understands the arbitrary nature of feminine and masculine arts in Vorinism — how they all track back to disputes over the finite supply of shardblades and shardplate — but she wonders why Sciel's world divvied up the elements...?

Although perhaps it's not that different from divvying up flavours. Certainly, Jasnah's tastes run nearer to spiced than sweetened. Fiery, indeed.

But that's not the question they're trying to answer, is it? So she refocuses her attention on Sciel — gaze flicking up and down the sidewalk only now and again, only momentarily, as she catches passers-by in her periphery.

As she listens, as she processes, she tries to imagine what Ivory would have to say about this ritual. Where would he scoff? Where would he approve? What whispers would he feed into her ear, small as a speck of dust and knowable only to her? He would like that bit about limitless potential. After all, he'd articulated something similar himself when he called upon her to meet the Second Ideal.

But as for everything else — Jasnah frowns. How impolite and tactless would it be if she shared her true verdict? That the guidance feels just as vague and widely applicable as she might have guessed. That if she'd taken five minutes, a pen, and a scrap of paper she might have generated that exact list of prudent options. Sure, there's no prescription to immediately change addresses. But beyond that omission, it's a watery mixture of do nothing and do a little and be open to opportunities.

It's a wonder she doesn't roll her eyes.

Out of mild respect for a person she's had a few positive encounters with, however, Jasnah responds with a very simple: ] — And have you, personally, found such readings helpful?

[ That is, does the practitioner partake of her own wares? ]

( she almost passes the sign without a second look, but then rowena catches sight of the woman behind the table and smiles. it's an interesting enterprise, and if she'd ever found cards of her own here she might have been tempted to do the same. except she's never sold her magic, and doesn't intend to now.

though it's an exercise, to at least see whether the woman has talent or intends to just sell words for money. not that she can blame her, most know so little about the cards they'd accept anything.

her smile brightens as she sits down, offering a hand out to sciel )

How long have you been reading for?

[ It seems unlikely that she'd keep running into people she's met before in the city, sprawling as Panorama feels, so the delight in recognizing the woman who approaches is clear enough in her face. ]

Mm...twenty years? I'd like to think my technique's improved a bit since then, though. [ Considering she'd been twelve at the time, and had lacked much of the nuance she's come to learn. Or so she hopes, anyway. ] It's good to see you again. Am I to assume you're interested in a reading? If not, you're welcome to stay and chat. I'm sure the others in line would be willing to wait.

[ A joke: there is no queue to be seen. ]

It's been a long time since I've let someone else read for me.

( but shedoesn't move, relaxing more into her seat )

Where did you find the cards?

( rowena assumes a lucky find in a diffusion zone. she hadn't found any yet, but she also hadn't looked )

[Jinu's in-between his two jobs today — a nice, long lunch break does wonders for the refurbished soul — when he happens upon the tarot booth. It's an interesting concept, one that he's heard of in passing but had never really looked much into. When you're trapped in hundreds of years of fatigued hopelessness for the future, you don't much care to get it read. But... things have changed. A few lifetimes later, but changed regardless.

He wonders if Rumi's ever done one of these...

When he realizes he's been staring too long, he glances to the reader behind her table.]

Is this the kind of fortunetelling that involves powers, or are you just good at reading cards?

[People around here have pretty wild powers, anyway.

He would know. He floats and teleports as desired.]

Mm, good question. [ Not in the "who knows!" sort of way, but with the encouragement with which a teacher might reply to a student's query. ] I like to think I'm good at reading cards. The only powers involved are to do little flashy things like this.

[ At which point she makes one appear between her fingers in a small burst of monochrome light. If he catches sight of it, he'll see that it's the Ten of Wands, reversed. ]

Interested? [ Sciel asks, holding her bright, green gaze on him. This isn't anyone she's run into yet, but she commits the youthful face to memory as she's apparently fallen into a habit of happening upon the same flxudrifts multiple times by chance. ] Oh — and by the way, I don't necessarily think of it as fortune telling. Tarot is really about guidance, not seeing the future.

[ Not in her opinion, anyway. ]

Not sure if that makes it more or less appealing, but there you go.

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(open) the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

☾ bistro

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☼ the "park"

☾ bar

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☼ the fringes

☼ ☾ open

—tarot; late feb?

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🔮 tarot

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Tarot Readings (ignore my misplaced tag shhh)

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