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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 0:56:35 GMT
Sometimes, when Theresa needs to get away, she goes to Central Park. There are always so many people, masses upon masses that dulls her thoughts. Too many to count - even though she can- too many histories to trace -though she could- and it is all enough to create a dun. It is something she can ignore. It is something she can push away and just... exist. It is why she has always preferred New York City to anywhere else- the history is deep, constant, world changing... There is always something to discover, but it also can become white noise.
Theresa has sat at one of the many, empty chess tables, sinking into the seat for a brief moment. She lets the city wash over her, lets the stress of her day and the awareness of too many things melt into the backdrop of the chaotic city. It is almost like meditation, a sort of observation and mindfulness that isn't affected by what is there, it just simply is.
Theresa then breathes out- completing the circle. She reaches into her bag, pulling out her well worn tarot cards. They bristle with magic, untapped potential, all the things she is but cannot quite see yet. Theresa shuffles her deck, eyes watching the passerby. This is the best place for her to divine- it is a crossroads, a place of so much possibility.
What to ask?
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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 1:26:47 GMT
Three steps forward and one step back. A right turn followed by two more and the urge to go left. Every inch he puts between him and his heart feels like an eternity, long and cold and impossibly unworthwhile. He pauses where he stands in the middle of the path, uncaring for the people that have to dive around him like a stone in a river. He runs a hand through his hair, blunt nails scraping at his scalp.
"Wha am I doin," he mumbles to himself, lips hardly partin for the words as he sighs. It takes all his will not to glance over his shoulder, in the general direction of where he had come. "Nothin' left for you, Remy, no."
What he really needs is a sign or a hint. He needs some type of divine intervention or guidance. The kind he always heard about from tante Marcelle when he was bout knee-high to a grasshopper. His red gaze tunes into the world around him as he comes back into the present. He sees the deck of cards at the same time the sound hits his ears.
Tarot. Now, there's a hint of divine that he could use right about now. Gambit lets a charming smile smooth over his features as he approaches the woman, thankful that he left his armor back at his hotel. Under his leather duster are a simple black t-shirt and jeans.
"Bonjou," he greets the woman, voice slow and warm like spring in Louisiana. "Don't suppose you do readins, cher?"
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 2:48:41 GMT
Theresa pauses in her shuffling as she is addressed, glancing up at the man with the creole accent. She smiles a little. Louisiana Creole is so far away from home. Or is it Haitian? She isn't one to judge based on the speaker- she knows the languages, too.
"Bonjou," she says, perfectly pronouncing as if she had grown up with the language on her tongue. "Yes, in fact, I do," Theresa answers him, her accent now posh British. Her affect is flat, almost statuesque. Everything she says has so little emotional inflection, and her face is a wall of cold guile. She is the complete opposite of Remy, in so many ways.
Theresa motions to the seat across from her, allowing him to sit. "Do you have a question? Or is this more... letting the cards tell you what they need to say? I can do many readings- many indeed."
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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 3:12:03 GMT
His brows rise in pleasant surprise and his smile turns a shade more natural at her pronunciation. That surprise goes up another notch as she drops into what he would reckon is the most British accent he's ever heard.
"Tha's a bit of luck I've been needin, ya?" Remy pulls out the chair that she motions towards, dropping into it with confidence and ease. He watches her hands and her cards, curious about this strange woman he's approached.
He tucks his tongue into his cheek for a moment, considering his options with the natural slowness one only finds in the deep south. Remy lets the sound of the city fill in the silence before he nods to himself, feeling his question with his heart.
"What is Remy supposed ta do?"
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 3:31:58 GMT
Theresa is used to the reactions Remy has- she just ignores them. It is information, things she already knew would happen. Why linger? "Luck is a fickle mistress. You say you been needin her-" she starts, almost matching his dialect. She shakes her head, letting it go. "But I am afraid she does not need you. What she has to give, she gives. Do you still want answers?" she says, still emotionless in her mannerisms.
Des places the deck on the table sliding it to him. "Cut it, if you like. I can answer your question. But you may not like it."
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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 3:42:28 GMT
He swallows down the ache in his throat as he listens to her. Remy knows that she's right. Lady Luck ain't ever needed him, but he sure has needed her more than he cares to admit. She's come through when things were at their darkest, not always, but she has.
His hand is steady as he reaches for the deck of tarot cards, treating them as delicately as he would Rogue's a lover's hand. He focuses his heart and mind on his question, trying to dismiss the part of him that is begging for her to tell him to go home. To go back. To take his heart into his arms and beg for her forgiveness.
"'M sure, yes. I know tha her answer might not be to my likin, mais I neva let that stop me." Remy's voice calm as he cuts the deck before putting it back down on the table between them. "Askin, 'What am I supposed ta do?'"
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 14:02:01 GMT
Theresa watches Remy impassively, though inwardly her heart goes out to him. He seems lonely, someone left out in the rain waiting one too many times. She knows that feeling. It made her who she is.
When he touches the cards, he can feel a touch of the magic. This suddenly feels... important. If he had thought her anything but the real deal... it is quickly banished. Theresa takes the cards, deftly and with grace much like he would. She places them in front of him once more, and says, "Shuffle them to your liking. Think about your question. Pour it into the cards."
When he has done so, she spreads the cards out in front of him, a smooth motion making two arches of cards. The back face him, each one a mystery.
"Choose ten," Theresa instructs. "Don't overthink it. Let them call out to you."
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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 14:44:16 GMT
There's that spark of magic as he touches the cards and suddenly Remy feels like he's just walked into a shop full of charms and tailsmans and he's the unlucky tourist who ignored the 'Do Not Touch' sign.
He takes a measured breath when his companion offers the cards, telling him to shuffle them. Remy tries to focus on that magic, the pull of something he hopes is divine, as he tucks the cards into each other, shuffling them like they are his own.
'What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?'
His hands pause mid-shuffle, feeling like this is it. This is right. Careful so as not to disturb their order, he stacks the cards and puts them on the table for the woman. The chair under him squeaks in protest as he sits up a little straighter. If it wasn't obvious before just how seriously he's taking the reading, it would be now with the flat line of his mouth. Any southern charm has scattered like the ashes of a late-night bonfire in the bayou.
"Alright, cher."
Mindlessly, his fingers reach out and touch the backs of 10 separate cards. There's no hesitation as he does so. Just body following a feeling.
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 15:21:27 GMT
Theresa follows him along, taking the cards and setting them aside. Once he has chosen all ten, she places the remaining cards in a pile off to the side. Her fingers flutter over them, then she lets them go.
"The first card is the heart of the matter," Theresa begins, about to place the card, then she hesitates. "Do not be afraid, no matter what you see," she murmurs, flipping the card over for him to see.
It is he and Rogue, arms lined together as they each hold a chalice. Their foreheads almost touch, and they are very much in love. "The two of cups. This card is emblematic of the love two people have for one another. It is about deep connections, partnerships, compassion, and unconditional love. A strong pair is indicated here, the joy of two becoming one. It is something you want, something you crave. The heart of your question... is your heart," Theresa begins, then reaches for the next card. She places it horizontally over the first, making a cross.
"The opposition. Seven of Wands, reversed," Theresa intones. The image this time is of Remy, his staff in hand as he fights relentlessly. He looks tired, and six other staffs are in the image, he trying to stave them off. "You are overwhelmed by all the challenges that you are facing. You doubt yourself and whether everything is worth it. To make matters worse, you are feeling that you have to compete and compare yourself to other people, which leaves you feeling vulnerable and inadequate. It may seem as if you are under constant opposition. At first, you could hold firm, but after a relentless battle, you are now exhausted and ready to give up altogether. This card is a reminder- even if you are weary, this card urges you to keep fighting for what you believe in."
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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 15:50:41 GMT
At any other time, he's sure there is a quip he could have made about the first card being the heart of the matter. More so since he so often thinks of her as his heart- as his compass- in this often difficult and wild life. His gaze flickers up to hers when she tells him to not be afraid and her words chime like warning bells.
His breath catches in his chest, lungs seizing mid-intake. His eyes trace the curve of his heart's jaw, the way her arms are lined with his, and those beautiful hands holding up a chalice. Remy hears the words the reader is speaking and there is the tiniest ease in his shoulders. His eyes are soft and fond, head nodding once in understanding.
He never needed a deck of cards to tell him that he wanted to be with his love. He's known since the day his eyes were graced with her visage. God, he misses her.
"Opposition," Remy murmurs as she flips over a new card, going over it in detail. He struggles not to acknowledge that little kernel of truth that slips through, the one that he shoves down when he still has the strength to do so. Right now? Now, he can't even try to deny it all.
"'M so tired, cher. How am I supposed to keep goin when it all just-" his tone carries the weariness he keeps at bay at all times, and he gestures with his hand as if the motion can finish his sentence.
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 18:40:31 GMT
Theresa, while she does not emote this, feels deep sympathy for Remy. To love so completely, and to have such troubles...
"The root cause. She cut you off," Theresa continues, flipping over a card and placing it below the cross. "Temperance, reversed," she murmurs. The image on the card is of Rogue, a halo of light behind her head and wings on her back. She pours water from one cup into another. "You cannot touch her. Or she cannot touch you?" she asks, trying to sift through the visions she is seeing. "You got too close. It was too much for her. It was not enough. She stopped it before she, or your, got hurt."
Another complicated situation. Her heart bleeds for him. The way she speaks is so even, it is almost lulling him into a state of relaxation.
"Your past... ah," Theresa says, and inwardly she chuckles. It is a younger Gambit, in full armor, sitting on a horse, hand reaching down with a flower to one of many, many women. "The Knight of Cups. The classic romantic. You know who you are, you know who you want, and it attracts many others. You're loving, kind, compassionate... All Knights are on a mission, and yours is humanitarianism, romance, altruism, compassion, and beauty. You have a vision of harmony and are ready to bring it into reality. You are lead by your heart and want to see peace for everyone involved.
"But you are ruled by your emotions and his heart. You are making decisions based on how you feel about a situation rather than what you think," Theresa concludes, placing this care to the left of the cross.
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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 20:22:07 GMT
"She did," he agrees quietly. "There's no stoppin her once she gets an idea in her head." Rogue looks so angelic, so damn beautiful on the card. It is so close and yet so far from what she looks like in real life. There is just something about being in her presence that the card can't capture. His fingers flex as if to reach for the cards before he catches them and pulls them into a loose fist.
Why can't you just let me stay near?
"Always said I didn't use my head enough," Remy says, tilting his head to look at the four cards so far. They're telling a story that is so real. It is his reality as he knows it and he wonders just how much is about to be revealed. He tucks that thought under a nest of pleasant ones involving Rogue. Maybe the cards would tell him to go home.
He wants to go home so damn badly.
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 20:45:27 GMT
Theresa places the next card above the cross, and it is a chalice overflowing with golden liquid. She almost smiles, thinking of the last time she drew this card. Strange. The Sanctum. A home. A possible family. So many things, tied into a card. But... that's for her. Not the man in front of her.
"This is your goal, the Ace of Cups. It is... love. A new beginning, or a new phase. You want the next step with this woman, truly and lasting. You want to drown in it, revel in it, drink her love to the last drop and offer your own in return. You want to have it, give it, receive it, be it," Theresa says, something somewhat longing in her tone, if he can notice it. She places the next card, on the right of the cross. "Three of wands, Reversed. This is your future," she says, and the image is that of Remy, his back turned to them, three of his staffs standing upright, his head hanging low.
"If you continue on your path now... Growth and expansion are available to you, but you are choosing to play it safe and stay within your comfort zone. As a result, you are closing yourself off from new opportunity and limiting your potential," she says, shaking her head. "Running from your problems does not solve them- but it can grant perspective."
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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 21:59:14 GMT
"Cher, tha's one way to say it." Remy sounds equal parts impressed and surprised. He has so many words and has waxed so much poetry to his heart that he never thought there could be new ways to phrase it. He wants her so damn badly and this distance, though not that far, is so close to too far and he feels the loss of her heavy in his chest.
Those red eyes gaze down at the Remy on the three of wands. It's a version of himself that he knows well enough. How many times has he run from his problems? How few of them has that ever solved? The shame of knowing that he's not doing enough sits on his shoulders both on the card and where he sits across from his companion.
I've made a mistake.
"Tha's six now."
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 22:12:27 GMT
Theresa nods to his counting of the cards, and pulls the seventh. It is the X Mansion, burning and crumbling. "The Tower, Reversed," she says, a gush of air as a sigh from her. "This one is you, here and now. You are undergoing a significant personal transformation and upheaval. This is not external, not something force on you, but... you are instigating the change and calling into question your fundamental belief systems, values, purpose, and meaning," she says, looking down at the card, and he could almost swear there is pity in her eyes. A hard card.
"You are resisting change, Remy. Destruction and upheaval are inevitable... and sometimes needed. As much as you don’t want to, you need to go through this difficult time to learn a valuable lesson and make progress in your life. If you continue to resist... Fate has a way of forcing it. Have heart- you will grow. It will hurt, but... you will grow. No amount of hiding or denying will make it go away, and it will only get worse," Theresa says,, then pulls the next card.
"These are your external forces- the Four of Cups, reversed..." she murmurs... seemingly a bit confused for a moment. The image on the card is of him, refusing four chalices of wine. "You are taking what you have for granted. You have discontent in this world, greed for something that is not yet yours. Embrace new ideas, new people and new places; because you never know where these adventures can take you. Many may miss these chances because they are too confined in their own beliefs and ambitions."
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