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Sep. 12th, 2006 09:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ten_of_swordsHe had thought to let Moon retrieve her.
Just meet them at the castle--
(castle... what respectable anthropomorphic personification lives in a damn castle with battlements? None, that's what I say...)
but Moon had given him a Look before she went off to prepare things at home. Choice would be doing the actual deed. Only the Major Arcana could, and Choice made sense. Hell, Choice always made sense.
Now, he stood outside M16, wearing loose trousers and a tunic--
(gods of the multiverse, I look like a debauched poet whose been at the absinthe too long, what the hell was Moon thinking -- oh, yeah, that's right, she DOESN'T...)
--hand poised over the door. This wasn't something he'd personally done for centuries. He hadn't even been there when Sorrow or Misery were created. The only card's creation he'd ever bothered to be present at was his own. He was sure Mary Anne was expecting something painful, but Ruin didn't remember pain. All he remembered, really, was the loss of his humanity. Of course, to be what he was, the Ten of Swords, humanity was a hindrance, not an asset. For Mary Anne, just like Sorrow, it would be a positive attribute.
Ruin takes a deep breath and knocks three times, swiftly, schooling his features into an expression of disinterest.
Just meet them at the castle--
(castle... what respectable anthropomorphic personification lives in a damn castle with battlements? None, that's what I say...)
but Moon had given him a Look before she went off to prepare things at home. Choice would be doing the actual deed. Only the Major Arcana could, and Choice made sense. Hell, Choice always made sense.
Now, he stood outside M16, wearing loose trousers and a tunic--
(gods of the multiverse, I look like a debauched poet whose been at the absinthe too long, what the hell was Moon thinking -- oh, yeah, that's right, she DOESN'T...)
--hand poised over the door. This wasn't something he'd personally done for centuries. He hadn't even been there when Sorrow or Misery were created. The only card's creation he'd ever bothered to be present at was his own. He was sure Mary Anne was expecting something painful, but Ruin didn't remember pain. All he remembered, really, was the loss of his humanity. Of course, to be what he was, the Ten of Swords, humanity was a hindrance, not an asset. For Mary Anne, just like Sorrow, it would be a positive attribute.
Ruin takes a deep breath and knocks three times, swiftly, schooling his features into an expression of disinterest.
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Date: 2006-09-14 02:37 am (UTC)What he warned her, about though, now crashes in. The knowledge of millions of various paths -- walked and unwalked -- known from those in her own sphere and known second-hand through the other cards.
She knows what he did to Gorlim, and which parts he enjoyed and which he didn't. She knows what he meant by the pear and the awful night of rape and torment of two lovers holding onto one another desperately in the middle of a hurricane invited.
Mary Anne Knows things. From Sorrow's recent endeavours with a little girl whose father had drown her kitten, to Fortune's elation at bringing some luck to a destitute family in China.
Paths.
Choices.
They are hers now to Know and oversee.