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

[personaldemon]

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.

Comments

[personaldemon]

"Appearances can be deceiving, can't they, Mr. St. John," Jason answers.

" 'This thing'? Tarot? Well, Mr. St. John, I draw from a deck of seventy-eight cards each featuring different motifs and symbols, three of them to represent your past, present, and future, and then I make observations about your past, present, and future based on what cards have been drawn and what stories they tell."

His expression is completely straight, only a faint gleam of deadpan humor in his eyes as he reaches for the first card to flip it.

[ownlittleprison]

"Yeah, we've been over that already," he retorts, leaning his temple on his closed fist. Been there, done that, don't want the t-shirt. If he's honest with himself, it isn't just curiosity that had him sit down and agree to a three card spread. It's a touch more complex than that, but ain't it always so.

"See, now I'm almost sorry I asked."

He reaches for the glass of Faux!Blood, not entirely happy to find it's body temperature. You get used to cold, separated blood, and before you know it your dead old palate has lost the taste for hot meals.

Or that's what he keeps telling himself every time he has a sip - just like now, when he can't really pretend it's coffee when it's so obviously not.

[personaldemon]

"A common chorus," Jason says in answer to the dry I'm almost sorry I asked.

He draws three cards, face down, his movements precise and careful. There's no flourish to his actions, no drama... at least, not intentional theatre, at any rate. Merlin had done such. Blaise had done such. He just draws the cards, and sets the deck to one side.

Wordlessly he turns them over, past, present, future. The Lovers, reversed. And the Four of Swords. Finally, the Chariot.

Jason settles his chin on one palm, looking over the cards idly.

"Well," he says after a few seconds, "with what you said regarding your ex-wife, the appearance of the reversed Lovers is hardly surprising."