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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That last card had been a hint of hope. Not of this place but of possibly returning and finding herself back into the life she was meant for. To be queen. Even if she knew that now it would never happen, she still thought of it. Mostly in that it meant returning to her family, to a chance of a life she wasn't sure she saw for herself here.

"Or it can mean all of the above," she whispered, bowing her head and trying to reign in her emotions. She had no idea what to think of this and was suddenly regretting the decision.

"Such a woman is useless if she losses herself to darkness and desire. Not that there is anything such a place for rulers and leaders in this city," she added, knowing this is not the life she is meant for. Not anymore. Neither in the Zone or Taxon.

"I apologize for my argumentative nature," she noted in a low voice about his comment about the cards and her behavior.

Jason's gaze slid from the cards out to the view of the street below, the Extras going about their dull scripted tasks, the buildings stretching as far as the eye could see. He sipped his coffee.

"Very few things are eternal. Most pass. I have lived long enough to believe our time in this city will as well.

"On whatever day your captivity ends here, you'll go somewhere else, miss Azkadellia. Back to your homeland, perhaps, or on to one of the thousand other worlds and realities that exists; that I don't claim to see.

"You might consider this interlude an opportunity. A window of time to reconstruct yourself without the scared and judging eyes of a kingdom upon your every move. So that if you are someday returned to your world, you go whole, as something closer to..."

He glanced back from the street to the cards, thick fingers finding the Queen and rotating her the other direction. Upright. "...the woman you ought have been, had not Fate intervened."

"As if I want to go back to the Outer Zone for anything but my family and friends," she snapped, the words coming out in a rush, heated and pained, though most of it wasn't for him. Not exactly.

"Have you met Glitch," she asked, not waiting for an answer. "Handsome, tall and pale with a zipper running the length of his head," she asked, thinking about the man she had known before he became Glitch. Tears filled her eyes.

"What happened to him was done by the witch to try and get information but..." She sniffled, knowing she was pouring out emotions that Jason probably didn't care about. "But that practice was going on long before she took over my body. The royalty of the O.Z., my mother and those before her. My ancestors! They thought the proper way to treat criminals was brain surgery," she growled, shaking her head. "I don't want a thing to do with that crown. I learned enough about leading through the witch and I'll be damned if I take over a legacy of torture."

One her mother had practiced. One she was part of. And likely as not, she was already damned. At least in her own mind.

"I don't want to be that woman. Not that one I was being groomed to be."

He hadn't met Glitch, but it didn't matter; the girl talked anyway. Jason let the wild surf of her emotions crash around the firm rock of his own dispassionate calm.

"I suppose that's one path you could take. Or you might make a plan to use the power of a crown to change the legacy that crown will leave for generations to come."

Again her youth strikes him. Passionate reaction to an understanding of the world's oft-harsh realities; the high drama of a gesture, of an I'll be damned if I take over that legacy! when discovering those one had thought to be saints had been humans after all, with all the flaws that suggested.

"Obviously you must make your own choices," he says evenly, looking back out over the balcony railing again. He hasn't been terribly curious into the so-called hamsters; Jason's life has long been one of pawn in the schemes of more powerful entities. But right now, he wonders if scenes like this are what They want.

She snorted delicately, fixing him with a look. "Would you follow a queen who had destroyed your kingdom, even if everyone assured you it wasn't really her but a wicked witch that no one but said sorceress and her sister who was raised in another kindgom have ever actually seen," she asked, being calmer with that question, and honest. "I wouldn't."

She sighed, slumping forward for the first time and resting her chin against her palm with her elbow braced on the table.

"I was raised being told what I would do, my path for being eldest born. Now, knowing what I do, I'm not sure I would want it. Even had I not been the face for torment and destruction for so many annuals."

"I'm not the correct person to ask that question of," Jason responds very dryly. "What I've followed in my life is a poor barometer of the reactions of others." He shrugs.

"Then who? Your sister, unused to the thought of rule at all? Responsibility is a double-edged sword. Obligation and power attend one another. But... as we are not in your Outer Zone... in the moment it is all moot."

"I suspect that may well be the case of many of us here in this city," she admitted because she never felt she was one with a proper answer, or even the proper question, here.

"You do realize that it is only a step above what I've been through being forced to act a certain way rather than following my own desires, don't you?" Which she had been thinking about as well, and only now mentioned to someone that likely wouldn't judge her for it.

"We do seem to be a collection of the grotesque, yes." Another sip of his coffee.

Jason shrugs, studying the Extras walking by on the sidewalk below. "Only a step, perhaps, and yet an important step. The obligation that comes with a crown is quite a bit different from compelled domination, however much you might be tempted to draw similarities between the two.

"It doesn't matter here, though. Should you ever return you can explore your options at such a time. If not, then..." He shrugs again.

A cruel twist on the truth, but she couldn't deny it very well seemed to be the truth in the end.

"There is a single similarity. One that isn't the same yet there. Your life is not your own." This first taste of freedom for Azkadellia had brought more than just freedom from the witch. She was free to be herself, whomever that might be.

If not then she never saw her family again.

"I suspect, from what we know, there are very few choices in that, one way or another."

Jason snorts, lips curling cynically.

Below, the little dolls walk their walks, go about their programmed tasks like marionettes. They look no different than people in Gotham or Paris or London doing the same: sheep making their rounds. Mortals living lives of simple tasks and fears, simple obligations and rewards.

"It is a myth that anyone's life is truly their own. Live your life completely without attachments, and, yes, you you can have that freedom, if you are lucky, if Fate does not throw attachments at you.

"But lovers. Friends. Vocations. Ethics. All of these create chains. Some are simply entered into more willingly than others."

She was quiet then, actually listening but where she didn't suspect they were meant to, the words struck a bit deeper than they should have. No vocation. No lovers, and uncertain how to explore that should the opportunity arise if only because of her fear over another. Her ethics. Without practicing, she might never know. If she knew, it might be too late.

All of it was whirling in her head and she wasn't even sure what to think.

"This place seems determined to break such chains," she whispered, thinking of DG, of Cain while Paul was gone, of Glitch when he told her of his relationship with DG.

His smile was still cynical. Taxon didn't break his chain of obligation, the ball tethered to his ankle whose name was Etrigan. Nothing broke that.

But other bonds...? Mm. Perhaps.

He wondered, for the first time in what had to be at least a year (time was so easy to lose track of) where Glenda was, what she was doing. How the child was.

No matter. That chain had been broken before his abduction, regardless.

"Then perhaps it's the sort of place where one can have that true freedom, then," he said with black humour.

She was quiet for a long moment, considering that and all it meant. True freedom. She knew exactly how it sounded to her.

Sighing heavily, she downed the last of her cooling tea, putting aside the mug.

"Perhaps. Sounds very lonely though, doesn't it?" Not alone, because she wasn't alone, most in the city weren't even with as few of them there were there but to her it sounded lonely. Perhaps though it was just her mind catching up with all she lost and all she'd gained.

Jason shrugged. His own coffee tasted bitter in his mouth, or perhaps that was merely the thoughts her words had brought on.

Now don't mope, my dear! Don't sulk and moan
Solitude you needn't fear. You never are alone...

Jason closed his eyes against the devil's whispers, a little grimace curling his lip. He signaled the waiter for more coffee, fresh coffee.

"Did you have any other questions about your reading?" he said, changing the subject and not bothering to pretend he was doing anything but that.

She wanted to ask more, if only because she honestly felt she was learning something which could get her somewhere.

Yet when she looked up at Jason and saw the look on his face, she shook her head no.

"No, thank you. I... You mentioned a price. Do we discuss that now," she asked, uncertain how this worked.

Ah yes. That.

"I mentioned something you might do for me if you are so inclined," he said distantly. "Let's avoid calling it a price. Today's reading was free; there is no obligation, no debt.

"I don't know how it works in your world, miss Azkadellia, but in mine-- in magic-- debts and obligations are more than figures of speech. I wish to be clear that I am not exacting payment for today."

"It's hard to say if I'm inclined without knowing what it is, but if you need my help with something, I'm more than willing to give it. Not sure what I could help with but it would be there if you want it," she said, tensing slightly because it was offering a lot. A lot more than she likely should have offered.

"I understand. You're not asking for payment, but I'm asking what it is you need. Above and beyond payment and today's reading."

Jason said nothing for a few seconds, then nodded his acknowledgement of her words, if not necessarily an immediate agreement.

For another ten seconds he watched the street. Would Etrigan want to slay the puppet-people walking below? No doubt. No doubt for fun, to see what happened; but the demon would grow bored with that quickly enough, Jason knew.

Far more appealing to Etrigan's tastes would be the deep fractures and strong emotions of the young woman sharing the table with him. Hearts that had a flavor when the devil bolted them down raw and steaming.

"I will need to ask Remus Lupin as well," he said at last. "And I'd prefer to have to explain it only once. If that is all the same to you."

She didn’t push, not saying a word as she looked down at the cards. In truth, she was caught up in her own lost thoughts, but the desire to help was still there.

When he spoke, her gaze lifted though not direct nor intense as she nodded.

“Completely understandable.” Two magic workers from two differing worlds. Curiouser and Curiouser. “Merely let me know when.”

"I'm sure I'll ring you up in the next few days."

Jason has a sip of his coffee, and doesn't volunteer anything more. It appears that as far as his being a ray of sociable sunshine goes, the conversation may be over.

Azkadellia nodded, not sure if she expected to hear from him at all in the future.

"Thank you for your insight," she murmured, rising gracefully. "Good day."

"And to you, miss Azkadellia. Remember the cards."

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

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Fin?

Fin!