taxonomites | [Text] / [Location: a cafe in Speares]

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[Text] / [Location: a cafe in Speares]

Does anyone know if transfer of credits can be accomplished from one person to another, here? So far all I have managed is using them at the stores or with the hatches, and as it happens this 'allowance' they give us isn't really adequate.

Where I was from, I offered my services in a consulting capacity, but if I cannot get payment for such here, then that isn't incredibly practical.

....on a similar note, if anybody wishes their tarot read, it appears I'm doing this for free until I figure out a way to return an investment on the deck I just hatched.

If so, I'm at the version of the Café Procope that they have apparently stolen from Paris and transplanted here. It is in the Speares district. I may be found at one of the upstairs balcony tables.

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"It is healing," Jason said distantly to her mention of his hand. He did not wish to rehash the ways in which pain served his-- or more accurately, Etrigan's-- magic.

He lifted his coffee cup with his free hand, took a sip. It was cold now. He made a tiny face and set it down, glancing for the waiter inside the building and signalling for his attention.

"If you're not certain why you came, then perhaps that is exactly why you came. For certainty. The tarot is a guide to learning about one's self, among other things; you are therefore a perfect querent in some respects.

"What tempted the other person in your life? And may I get you anything to drink?"

She nodded, glad to hear it was healing on its own. Shifting once more, she tried to make herself settle though, without thinking, she sat perched on the edge of the chair, back straight.

"There is no certainty in life," she said, feeling that was the only helpful lesson she had ever learned from the witch. "Here more than anywhere, wouldn't you think? " She considered his words though and what they meant. Especially what they could mean to her.

For a moment she nearly didn't answer him and then she slumped, slightly. "When we were children my sister gave in to curiosity though I was certain it was a bad idea. It was that curiosity that led us to a witch. Or, at least, the spirit of one."

"Death and taxes," Jason responded dryly. "In Taxon, the certainties appear to be that these 'aliens' will toy with us for their amusement; and that people will come and will go.

"But one may be certain of internal realities even if one's external circumstances are changing."

He listened, lacing his fingers together over the lower half of his face, eyes pale and distant as he watched her.

"You said it wasn't knowledge that tempted her. What exactly is curiosity, if not the desire for knowledge?"

The waiter arrived; Jason gestured for another cup of coffee for himself. "Anything for yourself, miss Azkadellia?"

She almost laughed then, covering her mouth. "I suppose there are things that are the same in many worlds," she said, thinking of the taxes the witch had levied on the people of the O.Z. She sobered though as he continued, looking away. "Yes. It would seem that is all there is," she said, still looking away, thinking of DG.

She thought about that moment, of what had happened in the moments leading up to finding the stone face, and then finding the witch within her prison. She shook her head. "It may have been knowledge gained," she said, still not bringing herself to look at him. "But for DG it was... doing. To prove she could. To never let anything prove itself stronger than her. It was always about the next adventure," she said, sniffing suddenly and taking up a napkin, dabbing at her eyes.

She looked up and then back down, knowing her eyes were bright with tears. "Coffee black," she said, weaning herself from the cream and sugar, taking it as Cain did.

"As you like," Jason murmured, and nodded to the waiter for both the orders. The Extra scurried off.

Jason collected the cards in one hand and shuffled them back and forth, continuing to wear down their out-of-the-box crispness. He was aware of the girl's emotions, the unshed tears-- would have been even if Etrigan wasn't making appreciative, obscene noises in his ear and whispering how sweet grief and regret tasted-- and pretending not to notice them was the most prudent course of action, since he was no comforter of others and would prefer not to alienate the young witch.

"What you describe sounds more to me like audacity than curiosity, but you would know better than I. If you do not wish a reading I will put the cards away."

Azkadellia was barely able to ask for comfort from Glitch and Cain, she certainly wouldn't put that burden on another as she worked so hard to hold herself together, to be the royalty she was born and bred to be.

Dabbing her eyes once more, she lifted her chain and sat straighter in the chair as she finally looked back to him. Despite the redness rimming her eyes, there were no tears. "I apologize for that. Having actual access to my emotions is still new and I have moments..."

She let that trail off, eyes narrowing slightly. Not upset but considering, doing her best to think back to those times. "I suspect you might well be correct," she admitted, voice a bit steadier. "You do have to remember, they're times seem through the eyes of a child." And one much more innocent to motives than Azkadellia was now.

She put out her hand to stay him. "No. Please do one? I'm not sure what you might need from me but please."

Jason wordlessly inclined his head at what she said, both the statement that emotions were new and her words regarding her sister and her sister's likely motivations.

"...as you like," he said, and gave the cards another shuffle.

"Do you know anything of the various layout used? Do you have anything like this in your world?

"And this reading is free."

Settling her hands in her lap, the napkin clutched in her hands, twisted around her fingers but the tears seemed to be at bay.

"Not that I recall, though I know the Mystic Man and the like used various means, though most involved using secondary substances to open the sight." Especially after the witch had her hand in it.

"I'll trust your decisions in this, but if you won't accept credits, then trade for something hatched. I couldn't expect you to do this for me without compensation."

"Then we will do a simple three-card spread," Jason said with a slight shrug.

He set the deck down, then drew three cards from it and laid them out along the table, orderly, more neatly than Merlin would have done it. With less theatricality also, he thought to himself.

He paused before turning the first over, though, looking down at the backs of the cards but not yet reaching for them.

"There is something you might do for me. But it is of a much greater magnitude... and risk... than the reading of cards, and thus, an unfair payment."

Azkadellia nodded once at that, certain it would give as much detail as anything as she had no expectations from the reading.

She watched each movement, curious as to what it would say though her gaze darted from the cards to Jason's face; settling on the latter as he spoke.

"Isn't that for me to decide? There are ways to negotiate a fairer trade, if you're concerned for that but I'm more than willing to listen and consider."

Jason flicked a glance up from the cards to Azkadellia's face at that. He half-smiled at the slightly cheeky but not entirely untrue Isn't that for me to decide?

He turned the first card. A woman bound and blindfolded, surrounded by eight blades. Well, that was cheerful.

"We may discuss it after the reading, perhaps."

She noticed he didn't answer. Not at first. Not that she could blame him. How could he decide on a spur of a moment if it was that important to him?

The card came up and she made a face, glancing up from the card to him. "Does that remotely mean exactly what it looks like," she asked, tensing in a way she hadn't been before. That was her for most of her life, blinded and bound by another.

"And what do you think it looks like?" Jason answered, giving her a question for a question in the finest tradition of charlatans and true magicians everywhere.

He offered her the faintest of smiles as he looked enquiringly at her.

"A woman bound and blinded. It's where I was for years, a person trapped within myself," she said, speaking of it frankly as if it was nothing but how life went. She was still haunted by it but she was trying hard not to think about it, about all she'd seen and experienced.

"The cards have many symbols, and layers of symbols. Sometimes the imagery is fairly blatant, as seen here."

Jason traces a finger over the eight swords and the figure of the imprisoned woman.

"I will reveal the others first, before commenting. The cards are often linked; one cannot truly perceive the meaning of a sentence without all the words."

The next card was the two of cups, reversed, and the final card was the Queen of Wands, also reversed.

Jason grunted to himself. He propped his chin on his hands and regarded the trio, eyes darting from symbol to symbol as he considered the story they were telling.

She made a face at that, looking younger than her years though she didn't realize the gesture caused that. "Though the swords..." She shook her head, thinking of all the possible meanings as he went on.

"That makes sense," she said with a nod. That each could not be individual made sense, at least so much as she understood the cards.

She looked over them both before looking up at Jason. She studied him as he did the cards. His eyes and any expressions he might make. She didn't urge or push though, just watching.

He was silent for a good ten seconds, no particular expression on his face save concentration.

"Swords cut both ways," he said finally, which might have been a response to her actual words regarding the eight.

Another few beats of silence before he shifted, fingers drifting down to touch the eight, straighten it slightly. "As you've confirmed, the eight of swords indicate a person trapped. From what you have said before I don't think I need to belabor the idea of your being trapped with this possession you experienced.

"But the cards speak on several levels. Imprisonment by others is merely the most blatant.

"The blindfold indicates that you should question your perception of past events. Its presence in a reading is often a sign that the querent has refused to acknowledge a truth about her life, or perhaps about someone close to her.

"You commented on the swords. Clearly dangerous, and a prison; but if the blindfold were removed the maiden could easily use the sharp blades to safely cut her bindings. But as she operates from a position of blindness, thus she is trapped and cannot move past the perceptions that hold her static-- mired in the water at her feet, boggish and stagnant. Emotions, kept from evolving or maturing, and locked instead into what they have always been."

Those words were sharp in Akadellia's mind. Not in his tones but the reality slap that came from them. It was not only a truth that related so much to her life but to what was to come as well. Yet it wasn't those words that left her cold, feeling brittle and dry within.

She could imagine exactly what was being said and, for a moment, she wondered if they were universal truths. Was she truly wondering if those cards could read the woman she was, the fears that hid beneath the surface.

"There is the option that the querent is not hiding from the truth as keeping it locked away, not only for themselves but others," she said softly, staring down at the cards and not looking up at him. She was assuming this was about her fear of her magic, that wish not to use it. Such as when she'd run from Ashley instead of hurting her, and had ended up bleeding and huddled in a corner.

Jason's gaze on Azkadellia was rather merciless, although she wasn't looking at him to see it.

"There is no such option. Such is only an excuse for refusing to see truths that the querent finds uncomfortable. Do you think you are the only person here with the potential to harm others?"

"No." She wouldn't argue that or pretend she didn't know. "Remus locked himself away for much the same thing, fearing the aliens would unleash him on the population," she pointed out. "Several here are vampires, though I don't know what their control is."

She drew a deep breath. "Knowing that there are others and accepting what I did, the dangerous of what is within me and wondering why the witch chose me over two there that day..." Yes, DG had run but the moment their hands had separated, she could have had her choice of them.

Jason busied himself with his coffee cup, stirring the brown liquid again as he watched Azkadellia talk out a truth to herself as much as to him.

His gaze sharpened a bit when she alluded to her sister, however roundaboutly.

It struck a chord-- his eyes darted back down to the card. Yes. Yes, there were unfaced truths there, intentional blindness.

"Your sister, you mean," he said, and sipped his drink.

Azkadellia’s hands curved around the mug, fingers lightly brushing over one side. She wasn’t exactly cold, but the talk of that time, of being bond, left her feeling a desperate need to stay connected to this world. She just needed that slight reminder that she was here, whole and fully in her own body.

She glanced up at that question, staring at him for a long moment before giving a nod. “Yes, I mean DG. I am not the only one gifted with magic in my family, after all.” A small pause before forging on. "Why? Do the cards say something about her?"

"I said that the blindfold may be a sign the querent is refusing to accept a truth about someone close to her as much as her own self," Jason answered.

He reached out to touch the card again, the standing water that the maiden was stuck in.

"Emotions stuck in the same place. Never growing, never evolving; clinging to a viewpoint of matters that springs from a child's understanding of the world."

She had assumed it had meant the witch and her own abilities. Hoping deep down that it meant they weren't that much alike, no matter why the witch had chosen her. To face that it might be DG made her blanch, leaning back slightly in her chair as her hands slid away from her mug.

"A child's understanding is all I have of my sister," she pointed out, chin lifting as her voice darkened slightly. "She was killed by the witch when I was in my early annuals as a young woman and now I will never know her as a grown woman. I have no option but to see her through those eyes.

"You have the option to look at your relationship and the things that occurred within it through the eyes of an adult," Jason countered implacably.

"That you were both children does not necessitate you continue to think of her as such."

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