strangetrip | [EP] London Lucida

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[EP] London Lucida - OTA

When the egg meant for Emma had opened to reveal what looked like her entire collection of tarot decks – minus the three she'd chosen to take on her trip to London to visit Sabine, and therefore the only ones she'd had with her at the inn – she'd been tempted to pull them all out at once. But she couldn't use all of them at once, and the anticipation of reconnecting with the various decks was appealing too. So she'd decided to begin each day by pulling one deck from the egg, the one on top or first she touched, as one of her decks for the day. Spread out the enjoyment over the better part of a month, at least. She wasn't sure exactly how many decks she had had. The day she pulled out a Mucha-inspired deck she didn't recognize, and that had a copyright date of 2015, she almost decided not to wait, but really it was more fun knowing there might be surprises still to come.

She couldn't have predicted this surprise. Not without a tarot vision giving her a clue.

Today's deck had still been in its original box with associated book. That was rare. Boxes tended to get crumpled or misplaced, and it was simply easier getting to individual cards when the deck was in a pocket or pouch. And when she'd looked to see what deck it was, it wasn't one she knew. London Lucida, it said on the box, along with artwork that felt familiar but wasn't anything she had seen before. It was the name at the bottom of the box that made her really pause, but she had breakfasts to cook, including her own, so exploring the deck had to wait.

It was afternoon before she took the time. She'd found an empty table in the cafe, had a mug of cafe au lait in reach, and now she sat crosslegged in the booth, the entire deck laid out over the table in order. She wasn't trying to See anything, focusing instead on the cards' art, as she picked up one card at a time, studying it in detail. Some of the paintings were obvious London landmarks: the Eye, the Shard, the Tower Bridge. Others were less obvious locations and people, that could possibly have been from any city with some history, but there was still a very English feel to them.

"I can't..." she trailed off shaking her head, not knowing how to finish the sentence. She couldn't believe it, except it was here, proof. The London Lucida Tarot, by Marie-Ange Colbert.

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"If we're getting really technical, I'm a mutant who projects psionic energy into tangible, three-dimensional constructs i can manipulate, using the imagery of tarot cards. More generally, my mind isn't like most people's, and projecting stuff is just something I can do." It wasn't a magical illusion, although her projections had a lot in common with some of Lillith's spells. The difference was harder to make when most people here weren't from world's where mutants with the x-gene were known and understood.

Corbie actually bounced once in her chair, so delighted she couldn't keep still. She'd heard mutant from Kitty and Illyana--even if she still didn't understand how it was different from having magic--and she didn't really know what psionic meant, but she rolled with it. "That is so fucking cool."

"It really is." That could sound close to boasting, and Emma hoped Corbie didn't hear it that way, but she was proud of being a mutant and what she could do because of it. Pyro had taught her that; he'd thought they were pretty awesome when she was struggling to project much of anything.

She let go of the projection, the knight fading from view. "And yeah, having a knight who'll fight for me, and a flying horse when I need to get somewhere else? Literally saved my life before."

"Yeah, I bet," Corbie laughed, delighted and surprised. "So it's the projections you use the cards for, mostly?"

Emma shook her head. "I'd been telling fortunes for years before I ever learned I could do that, and how to. That's the other part of my gift. Seeing the future. Or the past. I can't really do it without the cards, but I'm not sure I'd want to." The cards provided structure and control, and a possible defense against madness.

Corbie considered that, pressing her lips together in thought. But considering her own thoughts on the matter just seemed to go around in obsessive little circles, why the hell not? "Could you maybe do a reading for me?"

"If you want. Sure." Emma had this gift for a reason. She liked using it, especially when it meant she was helping people.

"Just... when I read the tarot, it's not just making up stories to go with the meanings of the cards, or reading the person instead of the cards. If I see something, it's... true. I might misinterpret things sometimes, but that doesn't change what I see. So I try to warn people, to um, if you go looking for answers, make sure you're ready to get them. And don't mind me seeing what I might see."

She laughed, awkwardly, at herself. "When I was with the carnival, my warning was more 'this is just for fun, entertainment'. That's one thing that's changed. At least I get to be honest about it now."

"That's fine," Corbie said at once. "I mean... I think it's prolly okay, I dunno yet. The thing I got in my egg, I just got a lot of questions about it and if I should even have it and... well. I ain't answering those questions myself and I don't really know how else to get any information."

Things people had found in their eggs could have that effect. Emma's thoughts went back to the deck she'd been examining just today. Her deck, that wasn't hers. She had so many questions.

This wasn't about her, though.

"I should be able to help. At least give you some guidance, more context, that kind of thing."

Stick with the Robin Wood, she decided. It was a very Corbie sort of deck, far more than the London one, which Emma wasn't used to yet anyway. In fact, Corbie almost looked like she could have stepped out of one of Robin Wood's images, all pretty, blonde, and bright.

Corbie perked and sat up straighter, eager. She and Felix had talked about the Sibylline, but he had never done a reading for her. But she did know something. "D'you need it in order to do the reading, or will it be enough if I focus while shuffling?"

Corbie had picked up some from her teacher, if she was asking a question like that. "Focusing on what you want to know while you shuffle is enough. If you wanted to have it with you to help you focus, you could, but it doesn't seem to make a difference for me directly. So, it's up to you."

There was one reason it might be helpful for Corbie, though. "The more specific the question or more focused on it you are, the clearer my visions are. Usually. But that's because most people's minds tend to wander if they aren't careful, or used to clearing their heads of everything else."

"I can do it," Corbie said, entirely certain as she gathered up the cards she'd been laying out so she could examine them. Especially since she'd been laying them out in order, she would have to shuffle them thoroughly.

Corbie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the image of the box and the rings that fit her so well they could only have been made exactly for her hands. She thought of the perfect slide of the silver over her skin, the way the blue stones felt under her fingertips.

Where did they come from?

She shuffled until she was sure that the cards were well mixed and she had focused properly on the image of them. It was like the egg-hatching exercise Felix had taught her.

Corbie opened her eyes and passed the deck back.

Emma's eyes went unfocused as the first card – The Magician – triggered her vision. She continued to lay out eight more cards, starting above and working counter-clockwise, twice around.

The redhead wasn't Mildmay, although an artist's eye and psi's attention to patterns saw some similarities to him. "Do you know a man, tall, with long red hair, lots of rings, and elaborate tattoos?" She trailed one hand over the other, indicating the man's, the Magician's, ink. There was more, but he was at the heart of Corbie's answer, so Emma began there.

Corbie may not know much about how divination worked, but she did understand a fair amount about cold reading. Maybe not by that name, but it was a skill she recognized. This, a single question with multiple details, rather than multiple questions with a scant, unspecific detail each, was not the same thing.

Dumbfounded, she merely nodded.

A nod in return. "Your rings are different from his. That's what you got in your egg. A set of rings, lapis set in silver."

In her vision, the redhead gave the rings to Corbie. To a Corbie who felt older than the one sitting in front of Emma, not a lot, but older. "He has them made for you."

Tears welled up in Corbie's eyes as the pit of missing opened up in her stomach. Most days she ignored it. Some days she even ignored it well. But not right then. "Why?"

Emma reached out, wanting to comfort Corbie's obvious pain, but holding back, instead touching the Three of Pentacles. "Because you earn them, and he wants to acknowledge all your hard work and how it's paying off. Because he believes in how much more you'll be capable of doing."

Trying to think of analogies could be more difficult when someone was from a world or time very different from Emma's. There wasn't the same shared cultural understandings. "This is the master craftsman card, at least that's what the image usually evokes." It was really more about another's investment in that craftsman, which fit with giving Corbie rings, if they were important somehow. "So maybe the end of an apprenticeship? If that makes sense?"

Corbie nodded, except... "But we never finished my apprenticeship," she said softly.

Frowning, mostly because she wanted to be able to tell Corbie more, help her understand, but Emma wasn't sure she had enough context to interpret what she was seeing.

"The rings are for you," she insisted, and, "Talk to Regina. She knows... something, I don't know what, but it may help."

Regina. Regina had known her--or a version of her, because of course that made all the sense in the world--in another reality. One Corbie had tidily put away in the back of her mind because it was too confusing to think about. The understanding hit Corbie visibly.

She nodded. "All right."

"I'm sorry I wasn't more help." Sometime the tarot could be so clear, too clear even. But usually there were gaps, in what was shown, or what Emma knew to make sense of the images. And she hated not knowing. Especially when it felt important.

Corbie shook her head. "Don't be sorry. It's more than I had before. Thank you."

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[EP] London Lucida - OTA

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