#anyway I pulled some tarot cards for a sort of new years spread

[fairwellersmustache]

I stand here on the second day of 2023 having finally finished Terrace House: Boys and Girls in the City (2016) and finally able to listen to the 2016 Rose Buddies episode about it, which I started in 2019.

[sailoryooons]

i’m salivating over my first ever haliween ahhhhhhhggggjtjekwldlcjwkwnf. anyways, i trust you implicitly, so i’m gonna do the random thing:

milky way + princess peach + the craft 👁️👄👁️

(ily 🦐)

❀ Pairing: Witch!Yoongi x witch!f. reader

❀ Summary: When the red string of fate appears around your ankle, you have twelve days to find your fated partner or die. That’s how the spell works - that’s how fate has always run Her business. There is one, very inconvenient witch who keeps getting in your way, though, and you might just kill each other before your mark does. 

❀ Word Count: 4,421

❀ Genre: Magical AU, Fate AU, a bit of angst, a bit of crack

❀ Rating: SWF

❀ Warnings: Talk of death!!! Reader thinks that she is going to die this entire fic, so she thinks about dying/makes jokes about dying a lot. At the end of the story, there are moments where she is sad and there are hints of depression because she is dying, but it’s not super intense and heavy. Language, Yoongi, and reader are both very stupid, the communication skills in this friend group are at ZERO. 

❀ Published: Tuesday, October 3

❀ A/N: This is my first request filled for Haliween and I am so excited! This was so much fun to write and honestly, I was super inspired by Jade's ability to infuse humor in writing, so this is absolutely an ode to Jade. Inside my Halloween bag for you is… Yoongi, witches, and fate! This actually might be one of my favorite drabbles I’ve written all year if not all the time and I sort of wish this was a full one-shot with angst but I think it works sooo well this way. UNEDITED.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Haliween Requests |

It’s raining the day that the red string of fate scorches your ankle. The pain is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, sending you to your knees as you scream. At first, Jimin thinks you’re dying. He drops his mug of tea, rushing over to you as the porcelain shatters, dropping to the ground to pull you up by the shoulders.

You’re prone for a moment, eyes rolled back, voice straining as your entire body tenses, hellfire licking through you. 

Then it’s gone. Like it never happened. 

The mark leaves you panting in Jimin’s arms, whimpering lightly as you pull the leg of your jeans up with trembling hands to reveal a singular scarlet circle around your ankle. The mark tingles, leaving behind the memory of sudden pain, now cool to the touch. 

“Holy shit,” Jimin whispers, staring at the mark. His eyes are wide when he looks down at you, lips trembling. “Twelve days.”

Twelve days. Twelve entire days to untangle you’re new fate and follow it to the witch meant for you, your other half. Twelve days to find them and meet your magical half. To be whole again.

Because in the world of witches, there are some of you born not complete. Some of you have another soul out there, burning with some of your magic. And when that magic is ready to become one, it tries to kill you.

Twelve days to reunite it.

Or, twelve days until you die. 

DAY ONE

The day is a waste. Impeding doom does not inspire confidence in the probability of finding the witch who is supposed to be your other half. Hoseok offers a tarot spread, flipping cards and trying to untangle the path that will lead to your savior. 

He frowns as he looks at his deck. The images and text on them are nearly faded entirely, a heirloom of his coven passed down through generations of family members. Hoseok knows them by touch, feel, and energy alone. Could read them in the dark, if he wanted to.

Hoseok glances up where you’re curled on the couch in a blanket, doing little spell work to figure out where your mystery half is. “Perhaps you should have Namjoon read tea leaves instead,” he offers. Hoseok shuffles the deck and puts it back in a wooden box. “The cards want you to figure it out yourself. Tea is less judgmental, perhaps.”

DAY TWO

Tea is not less judgmental. You stamp out of the tea shop, feeling stormy, energy crackling like lightning. Namjoon, unable to help, mentioned that perhaps you should seek help from Jungkook, who often sees the future in his drawings. It’s what led him to Jimin, after all. 

Someone crashes into you, knocking you off balance. You yell as you go, too lost in thought to catch yourself with magic before you’re topping into the street and a puddle. Cursing, you look up at the stranger who has knocked you into a dirty hole filled with water.

“Are you serious?” you demand, gesturing to your legs as water seeps in. “Watch where you’re going!” 

The man in front of you is covered in coffee. He looks up at you dripping in dark liquid, the front of his white shirt ruined and sticking to his chest. If you weren’t so impossibly angry, you might think he was cute. Long, black hair tucked behind his ears, keen feline eyes, a rosy mouth in a natural pout. 

But you don’t think it’s cute. Especially when he says, “Me? You’re on the wrong side of the sidewalk!”

“There are no sides to the sidewalk!”

“Of course there is! If you’re walking north you should walk on the inside of the sidewalk, if you’re walking south, you should walk on the outside!”

“That makes no fucking sense!”

“Says the girl still sitting in a puddle instead of getting up and drying herself off!”

You make an angry sound, shoving yourself up from the puddle, sopping wet. “Have the day you deserve,” you snarl at him. 

“Have fun with your wet pants.”

DAY THREE

Day three is spent at the library looking up ways to break the red string of fate around your ankle. There are tombs and tombs of ancient texts on the various iterations of the spell through different cultures and religions, but so far you have nothing to show for it. 

Huffing and tossing another useless book onto your useless pile, you walk back to the dark stacks of the magical section of the library reserved for members of the covens in the city. It smells musty and dusty in the back, the air dank with the promise of rot. You make a mental note to tell Jisung at the front to please use an air freshening spell. 

As you turn the corner of the shelves, someone makes you pull up short. The man from the day before is in front of you, flipping through a book. You blink in surprise. A witch. It shouldn’t surprise you - most of the townsfolk here are magic in one way or another. But it makes less sense that he was so angry about spilling his coffee when he could just whisk his fingers in the air and put it back in the cup. 

You’re angry all over again, balling your fists in the aisle. You have half a mind to flick your fingers and through a book from the shelf at him, but the tome in his hands makes you pause. It’s the book you’re looking for. 

The man snaps it shut and tucks it under his arm, continuing to look through the shelves.

“Um, where are you taking that?” 

He turns with a soft expression, eyes wide. Then he sees you and immediately scowls, nose scrunching. “Oh. You. If you came here for new pants, the Target is across the street.” 

“I’m looking for that book.” 

“Well, this book is coming with me.” 

“What do you need it for, huh?”

His face is impassive as he blinks twice. “For a bonfire, thank you.”

With that, he spins on his heel and walks down the aisle. You step after him, but he snaps and you feel a sharp tug in your stomach, like a pull in another direction. You blink and suddenly find yourself several aisles over, making you scream in anger.

“Did you just teleport me?!”

DAY FOUR

Spent listening to Hey Jude on repeat. And dumplings. So many dumplings that you may not make it to day twelve. 

DAY FIVE 

What a good day. You’ve made no progress, but you head home with a smile on your face nonetheless. Even though you will surely expire when the red string of fate eats you from the ankle up in seven days, you have at least one good memory before your untimely demise. 

Autumn hangs cooly in the air. Your scarf is wrapped snuggly around your neck as you skip home, fresh on the memory of the Puddle Pusher’s face when you bought the last of the black flame candles at Shadow’s earlier that day. 

Give me at least one, he’d said to you. You don’t need five.

Well, what if I mess up? You’d asked.

Then you’re a shitty witch.

Well, that had offended you, so you bought the white flame candles too, just in case. Bags full of candles for your little ritual, you skip home to try another trick in breaking the scarlet mark around your ankle. You’re not hopeful but you are happy to rub the salt in with the Puddle Pusher before your sweet farewell to the world.

Even if he did look very cute today. 

DAY SIX

Morale is low. The ritual from the night before utterly failed and set off your sprinkler system in your apartment. As you spend the morning blasting hot gusts of wind from your hands and levitating several items throughout the home to air dry, you wonder what it will be like at the end. 

The red string of fate is such a rare thing. When you were little, you may have thought it was romantic. Knowing there was someone out there for you that was your twin flame, your other half. A person connects to you by the cosmic power of the universe. Whose spellwork with your own could make you unstoppable. 

Now you think it’s stupid. You don’t need anyone else to make you complete. You’ve learned that over several failed relationships and the lackluster dating life of this town. There’s no reason for you to need to follow this stupid mark to find the one person you can no longer live without. 

Love is not worth dying for. If it is even love. You cannot imagine that the magic that flows through the world unseen but felt is so all-seeing and powerful that it knows who you should be with. That it can tell you what to do. 

Day six sucks. And you spend it crying. Alone and forgotten, without your other half. 

DAY SEVEN

Jungkook sifts through his drawings, chewing his lip. The hum of tattoo guns buzzes like a hive of angry bees behind you. You ignore the awful music blaring through the speakers and the man screaming behind the piercing curtain getting his nipples pierced.

“Don’t you have something for that?” you ask, jerking your thumb at the sniveling. “The man sounds like you’re castrating him.”

“Oh, that? Some people like the pain. However, it is Jin so he is actually hating every second of it.” You make a face but Jungkook doesn’t notice, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, dude. I don’t see or feel anything in any of these recent drawings of mine. I wish I could be of better assistance. There’s this guy who might be able to help, though. Taehyung?”

“Tae-who?”

“Here.” Jungkook scribbles an address in truly illegible handwriting. “Visit him on the full moon in..” He looks at his phone and makes a face with yikes written all over it. “Five days.”

“Jungkook, in five days I will be hours away from-” You make a choking sound and roll your eyes back into your head. When you look back at Jungkook, he’s not amused. “Death. Dead. Está muerto.” 

“Yeah, I got that. Not funny.” He shoves the paper in your hand. “Look, he’s a really powerful seer. Just go.”

“Think he can tell me what to wear as I croak?”

Jungkook is still not amused by your jokes. He looks around you as the shop door chimes, lifting a hand. “Hey, Yoongi. Be with you in a second.” He looks back at you. “Have you considered asking around for anyone who has had one show up recently? It might help, you know?” 

“No thanks. Don’t need any weirdos trying to get into my skivvies by lying about it. Thanks, though. I’ll look into this.” You lift the paper. 

Turning around to leave, you stop dead in your tracks. Yoongi is standing near the front entrance of the door. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a flannel shirt, his hair tucked under a beanie. He looks soft, especially when his attention isn’t on you and glowering. 

For a moment, you’re not mad at him and you don’t hate him on principle. You just admire the way his nose is a little bit red from the cold outside, and his general sense of wonder is… innocent. Gentle. Kind. 

When he turns to look at you, as though he feels your staring, his face morphs from cherubic to devilish, curling his lip up at you. Your momentary lapse of judgment vanishes. “Here to get a tattoo of Number One Puddle Pusher?”

“I didn’t push you.”

“Who's to say you didn’t? Do you have CCTV evidence?”

Yoongi scoffs. “I should be checking CCTV to see if you’re stalking me.”

“Me? Stalking you? I got here first.” 

“Do you have CCTV evidence?” he mocks, making a face. 

With a huff, you blow by him, turning to Jungkook who looks between the two of you with wide eyes and a dubious expression. “Make his tattoo ugly.”

DAY EIGHT

Yoongi as it turns out is new in town. Instead of spending day eight doing like Jungkook suggested and putting out an APB on Facebook Marketplaces and Craigs List, you spend it looking up your mysterious mortal enemy only to find that… he’s entirely normal. 

Most of the covens in town have a long history of ancestry connected to the town’s creation. Yoongi seems to have no such thing, having only moved there a year ago. You’ve never come across him, though it seems you have plenty of friends in common.

From his social media, you can tell only two things about him: he likes cats and takes the worst dad pictures. By worst, you mean silly little photographs of things you can only see a father taking. Somehow the angle is always just wrong or the captions are so simple that you find yourself smiling.

And then you remember whose photos you’re looking at and you fix your face with a scowl. 

Tossing your phone onto the couch, you curse Yoongi. The Puddle Pusher. 

DAY NINE

Spent crying. 

DAY TEN

Spent crying even harder. And spent looking at Yoongi’s cat on social media, only to accidentally double tap and scream as you unlike the photo, and throw your phone across the apartment in terror. 

You cry more after. And add buy a new phone on your to-do list. 

DAY ELEVEN

You’re going to die. It’s inevitable. You spend the evening watching the stars with Jimin. You let Jungkook tattoo a smiley face on your foot. You drink lots of hard cider, and you fall asleep in a bed that feels too empty and the knowledge that you’ll no longer have to worry about filling it. 

DAY TWELVE

Taehyung lives in the middle of Fuck All Nowhere. While you might not find that exactly on the map, it is only somewhat easy to find his creepy, draconic estate outside of town. Getting out of your car, you look up at the spiring mansion, sure that you’re going to see bats flying out of the top like an episode of Scooby Doo.

Alas, there are no bats there to greet you in your final few hours. "Where are the bats, dude?" you ask, walking up the lawn.

The house is something out of a creepy cartoon. Old, wooden stairs creek under your feet as you climb them. The front porch has a severe lean, making you take a precarious step toward the massive front door. 

A knocker in the shape of a snarling gargoyle greets you. Tentatively, you reach your hand toward it. Just before your fingers brush the knocker, the door swings inward, creaking and shuttering as it does. You snatch your hand back and take a step away from it, heart racing. 

No one is in the entryway. You stick your head inside, looking at the maximalist disaster that is the interior. There are gauche tapestries all over the walls and exotic, loud wallpaper. Statues, busts, and other carvings cover every surface, and the faint smell of cardamom hangs in the air. 

“Hello?” you call. Your voice seems to echo in the house. 

You hear footsteps. Your heart rate picks up, hoping to see the infamous Taehyung you’ve come for. Except you don’t, feeling confusion first followed by irritation. Of course Yoongi is standing in this strange home that’s full of popping energy and static.

“What are you doing here?” you demand. 

Yoongi frowns. “You’re not Taehyung, right?” 

“No! Do I look like him?”

“I don’t know what he looks like.”

“Well. I’m not.”

Both of you have a silent standoff, staring at the other. Yoongi looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair a little greasy. You feel a momentary pang of sympathy for him, feeling the same sort of restlessness and weariness tugging at your edges. 

“What are you here for, then?” you ask if only to fill the silence stretching between you. “And why are you inside?”

“It’s cold outside. And the house felt like it wanted me to wait inside.”

“Okay. Well.”

He crosses his arms. “I’m here because I’m… looking for something.” 

“Something that requires black flame candles?” 

“No.” He looks you up and down. “What are you here for.”

“Trying to break something.” 

He hums. 

Eventually, you both sit down in the sitting room. Neither of you say anything to the other, sitting in… almost comfortable silence. You sit and stare at the clock on the wall, watching your time slip away. 

Your knee starts pouncing. You take out your phone, spamming Jungkook. Trying to get him to call Taehyung, perhaps. He doesn’t answer, your nerves unsettling your stomach. Eating away at you. 

An hour slips by. Then another. 

Sweat starts to collect on the back of your neck. Each moment the minute hand tick tick ticks, you lose another minute. Another five. Another ten. 

You don’t feel sick or deteriorating, but you know that as it reaches ten at night, you only have two hours left. A collection of 120 minutes for the rest of your life. Barely enough to drive back into town and say goodbye to your friends. To anyone who cares. 

Overwhelmed with the impending sense of doom, you suddenly stand up, wiping your hands on your jeans. Inside feels insufferable, so full of tension. You need to breathe, to maybe look at the moon for a little. To… feel the wind for the last moment, now that it’s here.

“Where are you going?”

“Outside. I - um. I don’t think he’s coming and I… want to be outside.” 

Yoongi nods. “Mind if I join you?” 

The question is gentle. Soft. Like that time you saw him in Jungkook’s shop, face so gentle and kind, round and soft with wonder and something like hope. It urges you to nod, reserved to not spend the next two hours hating this man who has made the last twelve days of your life annoying.

Instead, you’ll spend it with this man who doesn’t know you, but who has colored the pages of your life for the last two weeks. 

It’s strange. Before that day outside of Namjoon’s shop, you didn’t know who this person was. Now, you know a little bit. Not a lot, but enough. 

There’s a hill behind Taehyung’s house that you walk out to. You both sit on it quietly, looking out at the world. This far out in the country, the stars blanket the sky in a thrilling map of constellations and sparkling lights. It’s beautiful. Nice. 

A general melancholy seems to hang around Yoongi. You don’t know what it is he is looking for, but you sort of hope he finds it in the way that you’ve been unable to. If you have to lose tonight, you think that someone ought to win. 

“What was your favorite moment of your life?” Yoongi asks out of nowhere. You glance at him to see him staring out at the sky, eyes unseeing. His fingers pull at the grass by his shoe, uprooting them absently. “Or something that you just remember being a really good memory?”

You pull your knees to your chest and set your chin atop them, thinking. You’ve had so much time to think this week about your favorite moments or the best parts of your life before it’s gone, and yet, you hadn’t thought too much about it.

“Maybe…” you grin, eyes unfocusing. “The first time I ever listened to Hey Jude. I had never listened to the Beatles and Jimin had it on vinyl and it was one of the last days of summer when we were younger and he put it on… we danced to it and had the coldest lemonade and those red white and blue popsicles. It was right after a breakup and… it was the first time I felt unfettered, reckless joy.” 

You can remember the sweetness of the lemonade, the sticky fingers from the popsicle. The sound of the record, the way it hissed into silence at the end of the track, just the crackling vinyl chasing you out of the end of summer.

Turning to look at Yoongi, you ask, “What about you?” 

“The first time I heard a piano. I was on vacation with my parents but I got lost at the hotel and I found this piano in the lobby. This guy was playing it so I just sat down next to him and listened. It was… I wasn’t afraid anymore, and I just waited there until the front desk told my parents they found me.”

You grin, feeling a sweet curl of joy spreading through you. “Do you play now?” 

“Mhmm. I wish I had played more in the last few weeks. I was … busy.” 

“Hmm. I wish I had done a lot of things recently. Instead, I fixated on something unchangeable.”

Silence falls between you. You check your phone for the time. You realize that there are only fifteen minutes left, your heart clenching painfully. You place the phone face down in the grass, sucking in a deep, shaking breath. 

“You should go,” you murmur gently. He looks up at you, brows raised. “I uh - need to do something that I think should be done alone.” 

He nods. “Me too.” Gets up slowly, dusting off his pants. Yoongi starts to turn away and hesitates, looking down at you. You look up and think that Yoongi might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Soft face against the cosmos, dark eyes that are swirling and unreadable. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He lifts a shoulder. “For being a surprise in my life, I suppose. A change of pace.”

“You too.”

With a little wave of his hand, Yoongi walks down the hill back toward the house. You watch him go until he vanishes around the front and you are left alone, the sound of the crickets around you. 

Turning back to the empty hills, you exhale. In a way, you’re okay. You think that maybe Yoongi is right - he was an unexpected and at times vexing surprise in your life, but it was fun. A least a little. 

Gently, you lay back in the grass. You don’t know if it’s going to hurt when you go, but you want to be lying down just in case. Your hands tremble in the grass and you feel your throat constrict with the urge to cry. Not because you’re alone, not because you’re afraid, but because you think maybe… you should have just enjoyed life a little more than trying to defeat it the last two weeks. 

A lifetime of forcing things into submission and for once, you couldn’t do it. 

The minutes tick by. You try to calm your breathing. There’s no escaping the red string of fate now. Without your other half, you will cease to exist. There is no more road for you.

You think of the sweet taste of lemonade. The chorus of Hey Jude. The breeze coming in through the open door and the scent of the honeysuckle climbing the awning. You smile, feeling a tear slide down your face.

Shutting your eyes, you breathe in deep. You are ready.

DAY THIRTEEN

You frown. You keep breathing. You take in another deep breath, thinking that maybe you just… timed it wrong. Settling in, you keep yourself calm, fingers drumming on the floor. Any second now you’re going to die. The life force will flee your body. You will perish. Ashes and dust and all of that. 

It doesn’t come. You crack an eye open, looking at the starry sky. The stars are still hanging and the moon is still shining. Suddenly you wonder if you’ve already died and this is the afterlife. Would you even know if you were dead?

Sitting up, you grab your phone and look at it. If there are phones in the afterlife, yours shows that it’s past midnight. 

“Huh?” you whisper, tapping the screen. It looks real. Feels real. “Why am I not dead?”

Footsteps behind you make you look over your shoulder. Yoongi is storming up the hill, a look on his face like wonder and fury or something weirdly in between. 

“What were you doing at Namjoon’s shop that day we ran into one another?”

“What?” 

“The shop!” he yells, throwing his hands up, panting as he crests the hill. “What were you doing there?”

“Getting… a fortune read. Sort of.”

“And the library?”

“Researching how to break spells.”

“And Jungkook?” Yoongi’s voice trembles. You don’t follow, but you shrug a shoulder. “Same thing as when I went to Namjoon’s. Trying to use the future to help me find something.”

Yoongi crouches down and reaches for your ankle. You pull it back, yelling, “Hey, hands off, weirdo! I’m not into foot stuff!”

He grabs your jeans and pulls the hem up, despite your kicking. When he reveals the red mark around your ankle, he abruptly sits down and stares at you. You yank your foot from his grip, ripping your jeans back down and glaring. “What gives? Yeah, I have a red string of fate, whatever.” 

Mutely, Yoongi sticks his foot toward you. He has on dirty Converse with gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, and jeans on. “I’m more of a Hubba Bubba myself,” you note, eyeing his foot. “But thanks?”

“My ankle.” 

You sit up straight, heart racing. Yoongi had been going to Namjoon that day. And then at the library. Even visiting Jungkook. And buying items for… breaking a spell at the magic shop. Now, he’s here, for a reason unbeknownst to you. 

And you’re not dead.

You’re not dead. 

Slowly, you reach over Yoongi’s foot. Your fingers are trembling as you grab the soft material of his jeans, fingers weak. Steeling yourself, you pull gently to reveal Yoongi’s ankle. You expect to see creamy, smooth skin, unmarked and well… ordinary. 

Instead, you see a single red ring scarring his skin. A perfect red string of fate marking his skin forever, telling him that he belongs to someone. That someone equally belongs to him. That there is someone out there in the world just as stubborn to accept fate, just as cranky when inconvenienced, and who loves music just as much as you do.

You’re not dead, and Yoongi is looking at you with a smile that holds the world.

You’re not dead, and you share loud, joyful laughter with your red string of fate partner for the first time. 

DAY 20

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, leaning back and self-satisfied. “I saw them finding each other at my house so I just left. Let fate do its thing, ya know?”

You roll your eyes. “Your house is fucking creepy but not in a cool way.”

Yoongi laces his fingers with yours. “Yeah man, where are the damn bats?” 

[illfoandillfie]

Anyone who has been following me for a while has probably seen me talk about a project I’ve been hoping to get started - creating a Queen themed tarot deck. Well, good news, I’ve finished basic planning stuff and I’m ready to start actually making the cards!

BUT I am definitely not up to creating 78 individual artworks, so that’s where this post comes in. 

I’m looking for artists who would like to create a piece or two which will be used in this tarot deck. I’ve organised general ideas of what each card will feature so that we get a good range of images and theres a connection to the meanings of each card.

For the moment I’m going to focus on the Major Arcana of which there are 22. So, if you are an artist in the Queen fandom and would be interested in participating please follow the link below to a short survey I’ve created where you’ll be asked to rank the cards in order of which you’d be most interested in creating art for. 

LINK

Below the cut I have included the list of cards and the prompts for each one, as well as some other info about the project. If you have any questions that weren’t covered below please send me a message (via ask box or dm)! 

If you see this and aren’t artistically inclined please give it a reblog. I’d love this post to reach as many artists as possible and I can’t rely on tumblr to show it in the tags or anything so I would love some extra help spreading the world. 

Why A Tarot Deck?

I’m honestly not even sure where exactly this idea came from. All I remember is that one day I thought it would be a fun idea and then I started thinking about it more and realised just how much work it would be. In an effort to learn about the meanings of the tarot cards I started learning to read tarot (something I’ve been curious about for many years now anyway) and it all sort of snowballed from there. 

Why Multiple Artists? 

Because I’m not confident or capable enough of pulling this off on my own lmao. I enjoy making art but I struggle big time with drawing people and faces and I know I would give up after a handful of cards if I was doing this on my own. But multi-artist decks are very much a thing in the tarot community and theres some really cool ones out there. 

What Sort of Art?

Anything. Whatever medium you enjoy using - digital, watercolour, acrylics, charcoal, etc - and whatever your style is! As long as you can send me a clean copy that can fit into the card template, then you can do what you like. The prompts I’ve chosen for each card are also fairly loose because I didn’t want to limit anyone’s creativity. Part of the joy of a collaborative deck is everyone’s individual interpretations of the cards and the imagery on them. 

The only times I may say you can’t depict a particular outfit or moment is if I’ve already planned it to be on one of the minor arcana cards but otherwise you’ll have free reign. 

 I Don’t Know Anything About Tarot, Does That Matter?

NOPE! After the survey responses have been collected I will deal out the cards to everyone (hopefully in a way where everyone gets to work on something they really want to 🤞) and part of that will include a PDF with some information about the card - keywords associated with it, examples of other decks, why that prompt was chosen for it, etc - to help you get started if you need it. I am also always available to ask questions or bounce ideas off of. 

Distribution?

This is the part I’m still looking into. I am wary of putting these up for sale anywhere because obviously there are copyright things and using people’s likenesses and all of that and the last thing I want is for my favourite band to take me to court lmao. Currently I am investigating a site called Make Playing Cards which basically lets you design your own card decks (one of the specific options being tarot cards) and print them off without having to bulk order anything. I’m just not entirely sure if they let you upload and share a design for free or if you have to put them up for sale. I’ll also create a PDF version that people can print themselves at home if they like. If anyone has any other suggestions for this I am all ears! 

Of course something like Kickstarter is also an option I guess but, again, I’m still looking into all of this. 

Time frame?

I definitely do not want to rush this. The loose timeline I’ve been working off of gives you three or four months to create your card after which time I can start finding people for the minor arcana cards. But, this can be adjusted depending on how many people sign up and y’know if everyone submits their pieces earlier than that then we can bump the next stage up. But I want to give everyone ample time to create something they are proud of. And I am very aware that the current global situation is affecting people’s creative energies and on top of that some of you may be participating in Inktober or similar things around this time of year, so I am also happy to extend the timeline.

What Happens If Not Enough People Sign Up?

Look, I guess it depends on how few artists are interested. Ideally I’d get enough people to do the major arcana but I’m not getting my hopes up. There is a question in the survey asking if you’d be willing to create multiple pieces so if there are left over cards I can hand them out to anyone who says they want them. I can also do a couple myself I just can’t do all 78 cards on my own. 

What Happens If Too Many People Sign Up?

I am surprisingly prepared for this scenario. Firstly there were a few ideas I was throwing around that didn’t end up being used in the final list so potentially we can create some alternate cards. 

Secondly, there is still the minor arcana to do as well. The minors will work a bit differently though. The minor arcana is similar to a deck of playing cards with four suits (wands, cups, pentacles, swords) and the numbers ace through ten plus four court cards (king, queen, knight, page). I was thinking the same artist could pick a number or court position and create the four cards for it so that they all match, if that makes sense. That way all of the Fours will look the similar and all of the kings will look similar etc. SO if anyone doesn’t get to do a major arcana I’ll check if they’d be interested in tacking a minor instead. 

You Said There Would Be A List Where’s The List?

The Fool/s - Smile

The Magician/s - Queen

The High Priestess - Freddie in The Great Pretender

The Empress - Roger in The Great Pretender

The Emperor - Miami

The Hierophant - The Prophets Song

The Lovers - Freddie and Jim

The Chariot - Tour Bus

Justice - Present Day Bri

The Hermit - Older John

Wheel of Fortune - A Night At The Opera/Bohemian Rhapsody record

Strength - Ben Hardy

The Hanged Man - Highlander (or any of the queen songs featured in it)

Death - Bri in the Hard Life video

Temperance - Naked bicycle race

The Devil - Death on Two Legs

The Tower - Frank from News of the World

The Star - Rami Malek

The Moon - Gwilym Lee

The Sun - Joe Mazzello

Judgement - Adam Lambert/Q+AL?

The World - Made In Heaven/Tribute Concert

As you can see there’s a mix of Queen themselves, other people associated with them, objects associated with the band, and songs. I know some of these are sightly out there or unusual but please have a think about them and see if any spark your interest or get the creative juices flowing. I am also open to discussing potential other images to use instead if you’ve got an idea. As long as they can be tied to the meaning of the cards. 

[artificialqueens]

The Goode Case, 8/14 (Jaida/Jan) - Juno

Chapter Summary: Jaida, Brita and Jackie, with a little help from Dahlia, separate to look into the history of the guest house, and rendez-vous to discuss the plan to reach Gigi. Jaida is surprised by who else she sees that evening …

(A/N: As ever I’ve been really over the moon to receive such lovely supportive comments! Thank you to everyone!! I hope you enjoy part eight.)

2.50PM

Jaida led Aiden to the lobby to meet Crystal, who was sitting with Jackie, a box of tissues clutched in her lap. Aiden’s stoic expression softened at her friend’s tears, and she rubbed Crystal’s shoulder, while Crystal stood and pulled her into a hug.

Back in the meeting room, once the two students had left, Jackie could barely contain herself.

“Crystal saw that same woman that you described,” Jackie blurted out, as soon as the door was closed. “She gave the exact same description you gave us. And she saw Gigi too, in the same room you did.”

“Did Crystal mention anything about the day they found the anklet?” Jaida pulled out the chair next to Brita and sat down. “I wondered if a statement Aiden gave me corroborated with that.”

Jackie pulled out another chair opposite and sat down too, grabbing the jug of water from the centre of the table. “Yeah, she mentioned it. She said when they found the anklet, a woman appeared to her, and took her hand and started singing her some sort of lullaby. She suddenly realised she’d walked to the top of the stairs, and they both left. Well, ‘ran away’, Crystal said.”

“Who was the woman?”

Jackie looked grave. “She could just remember black hair. You were right, it’s the same woman that keeps coming up.”

“Any clues who she was?” Jaida asked, folding her arms.

Brita pushed the file she’d found to Jaida, who took a look at the yellowing paper and the name typed using an old label printer. “VISAGE, T. & M.”

Jaida opened the first page, and gasped at the picture.

“That’s her, I’m sure.” The woman had wavy black hair in a thick mane around her face, with sculpted cheeks and bright blue eyes. She checked the name in the ID details. Michelle Visage (née Goode).

“Records indicate the Visages bought the guest house in 1972. The wife had a reputation, the sort of thing you’d expect in some bad romance novel – seducing customers, you know – got her in a bit of trouble forty years ago,” Brita explained. “But the whole guest house had things happening. Have a look at the papers. Take one case in 1976. A fire broke out in the kitchen, and the only person to die was her sister-in-law. All the kitchen staff escaped, but her sister-in-law didn’t. And later on in 1978, well, read it for yourself.”

Jaida turned the pages, her eyes falling on another photo, this time of a man, a white shirt and large collar, open at the neck, hair long and swept over his forehead. He looked like –

“Girl, this is getting too strange now, this is the guy who I saw on the stairs!” Jaida pointed. She carried on reading the report, her hand going to her mouth as she did.

“He didn’t have a very happy ending, as you see. They found him hanged from the top of the stairs. It was ruled suicide, but it was suspect at the time, because there was a life insurance policy which had been taken out shortly before his death.” Brita craned her neck. “Have you seen the name?”

Jaida glanced at it. Thomas Visage. “Husband?”

“You got it. And of course there’s the link to the Goodes. We thought Gigi was making it up to impress her friend, but you can see the ID. It looks like she was right. And if both you and Crystal have both seen Michelle and Gigi together …”

“I don’t want to think about that until we find a body,” Jackie shuddered. “There’s still a chance. Just because Jaida saw Gigi, it doesn’t mean she’s dead. She saw you, didn’t she? Last night.”

“Anyway, what happened to this Visage woman?” Jaida asked, trying to keep them on track, leafing through the last few papers.

“Well, the hotel was in decline following Thomas’ death, and it seemed like the money from the life insurance couldn’t make Michelle happy,” Brita sighed. “She died in 1983. Overdose. Barbiturates and lots of vodka. The hotel was closed later that year, and it’s been closed ever since.”

Brita straightened up, adjusting her shirt. “Chief wants the whole street searched again. I’ve sent forensics already, sniffer dogs too, to see what they come up with.”

“Okay, good.” Jaida nodded.

“For the house, I think we need to get Dahlia in again. If Gigi is being sighted there, and as there are no other leads really, there must be some link. But we need a detailed plan this time. Anything can go wrong, especially as I for one don’t quite know how to control … this.” Brita motioned to herself.

“Not only that, I think we need some history of past paranormal investigations at this place,” Jaida suggested. “Dahl said she knew a psychic that won’t go near the place, so there must have been other investigations. Brita, I’d like to go talk to her at the shop this afternoon, if that’s alright?”

“Nice one, Jai, we need all the information we can get.”

Jackie clicked her ballpoint pen on and off. “If we’re going to get the truth about what happened to Gigi from these spirits, we need to use all resources. Including maybe Crystal, if she’ll come.”

“You can start on a plan, while Jaida is at Dahlia’s shop. I need to be available on call for forensics if they do find anything on Westfield. We can meet up from six and discuss the plan. Ideally, we’d need Dahlia to agree to come in tomorrow, preferably during the day.”

“I’ll ask, but she might not get time away from the shop. If her mom can get away from her shift early, then maybe. Where do you want to meet at six then?”

“How about … Vanjie’s? With a wine?” Brita suggested, as casually as she could muster.

Jaida looked at Jackie.

“I don’t even need to read your mind. Have you arranged to meet someone else there?” Jaida raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe, maybe not.” A grin spread across Brita’s face.

3.39PM

By the time Jaida got off the bus, the grey clouds had turned to a thick sheet of rain. Great. The wind hadn’t settled from yesterday either, so she had to jog the two blocks from the bus stop to Syn City, to avoid getting swept away by the New York autumn.

The “Open to demons customers” sign was on the door, which meant either Dahlia or her mom would be around. Jaida pushed the door, and the bell above it tinkled, letting them know someone was entering in case they were in one of the back rooms.

The shop was so narrow that there was barely room to walk past the bookshelves and esoteric wares, but once past them, the space was a little more open, with the checkout on the side and two rooms further back for personal readings. Dahlia had learned Tarot from her mom, which was her main trade, but she was also learning other divination methods, as well as her own studies. One of the rooms was Dahlia’s for reading appointments, along with Shuga and her crystal ball, and now Rock, who had replaced Lady Lemon who’d left for Canada earlier in the year.

Dahlia poked her head out of her room, and smirked when she saw it was Jaida. She leapt the three steps to the room and approached Jaida, slapping her hard on the arm.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Girl, why didn’t you tell me you were a medium? I’ve known you for, like, two years, and you never thought you’d tell me you can see spirits?” Dahlia put her hands on her hips.

“I – I don’t know!” Jaida cried, a little exasperated. “You never asked!”

“I shouldn’t have to ask! You were seeing spirits at that house all this time, and I had to find that out from Rock!

“From Rock?”

“Yeah, she’s got this thing where if she touches someone, she knows what they’re thinking.” Dahlia rolled her eyes. “I know, that’s crazy, but it’s true.”

“Child,” Jaida muttered. “And let me guess. You can – I don’t know, you can fly or some shit.”

“Girl, I wish,” Dahlia snorted, “I can do cards, boards, but I can’t do anything naturally, like what you can.”

“I wanted to talk to you about last night, anyway,” Jaida whispered, looked around. “You got ten minutes?”

Dahlia led Jaida to her own room at the back of the shop, a tiny alcove just big enough for two people, and perched in one of the chairs, offering the other to Jaida.

“Thanks. I wanted to find out what you knew about the guest house.”

“Don’t you have the stories on files?” Dahlia cocked an eyebrow.

“Well sure, but we don’t log anything, y’know, paranormal or whatever.” Jaida used her fingers to draw quotation marks.

“I know what I’ve read, and it might not be the whole truth, but if that’s what you want to know?”

“Whatever you can give me would be a help.”

“Alright.” Dahlia grabbed her tablet from her bag under the folding table, and tapped into the screen, finally turning it to show Jaida.

“What’s that?”

“Paranormal Database on New York. Paradata, for short. It’s run by some lady in Queens. It’s like,” Dahlia ran a hand through her wavy brown hair, searching for the right words, “it’s kind of like Tripadvisor for the paranormal. People can go on there and report what they’ve done to investigate, and what’s happened.”

“And this website is in public domain?”

“Yeah, but it’s not really well-known outside the community. Keeps things a bit safer. And not everyone can register.” Dahlia shook her head. “You have to be invited by an existing member. I’ll invite you, if you want.”

“Sure, thanks.”

Dahlia found the house on the map, and clicked the link. She gave a low whistle. “Bitch, I’ve never seen this many reviews for somewhere that hasn’t been visited by, like the Ghost Hunters crew or something. There’s so many.”

She turned the tablet towards Jaida, who scanned through the reviews people had left on there, her breath catching in her throat.

“… domineering, territorial female presence, screaming at us to get out …”

“… my boyfriend saw a lady in the kitchen and won’t stop having nightmares …”

“ … tabletop session saw one woman possessed and a man incapacitated in a trance …”

“ … spirit drawing of a woman aged 37, died in a fire, year approx 1970 …”

One of them caught Jaida’s eye, from last year:

“Avoid the upstairs!!! DANGEROUS THREAT TO LIFE. Ghost tried to pull psychic off the stairs!! DO NOT GO HERE”

“Some of them can be a bit dramatic,” Dahlia interrupted Jaida’s reading, “but do any of them sound familiar?”

Jaida nodded. “Definitely some of them.”

“You want me to go back again, don’t you?” Dahlia asked cautiously. “I don’t even need to ask.”

“Would you consider it?”

Dahlia’s hands were trembling, Jaida noticed, but she moved them under the table to hide them.

“I mean, of course it pays well, but, like, I’m scared. And not just for me. For Rock, too. And for you. And for – actually, for all of us. All seven of us who were there last night, none of us came out the same. And Rock said –“ Dahlia gasped, raising a hand to her mouth. “I forgot to tell you! Rock said you saw Brita astrally project?”

“Yeah. But I didn’t know she was going to until she did it.”

With that, Dahlia leapt from her seat and grabbed Jaida’s hand, tugging her down the three steps and to the bookcases.

“She needs to read … this, before she does it again.” Dahlia pulled a paperback off the shelf. “Tell her she owes me fifteen dollars.”

“Dahl, I’ll just – settle that …” Jaida took her card from her purse. She turned the book over. Astral Projection For Beginners: A Complete Guide. “I’m sure she’ll put this on top of her pile.” Jaida rolled her eyes.

“I’m not joking, Jai. Being able to project naturally is really fucking unusual. Most people learn it. So if she can do it without even trying, she needs to know the risks. Like, now. Especially if she can’t control it.”

“Risks?” Jaida flicked through the book. “What sorts of things?”

“Mainly just other spirits wanting a free ride, or a free body to hop into.” Dahlia shuddered. “Not everyone you meet on the astral planes will be friendly.”

“Have you ever projected?”

“I’ve tried, but not so far.” Dahlia shook her head. “It’s really hard to master.”

The door tinkled, and Dahlia leapt from her seat, Jaida following her, but it was only Rock, her blue hair soaking wet with the rain which was still coming down in a sheet. She held two Starbucks takeouts in cardboard cup holders.

“Oh, hi again,” she waved to Jaida with her free hand. “I’d have bought you a mocha as well, if I’d known you were coming.”

“Thanks, baby,” Dahlia took her cup from Rock and planted a kiss on her lips. “You know just what I need on a Monday afternoon. And I was telling Jai about the projection book you recommended.”

“Yeah, you need to make sure your friend reads it straight away,” Rock’s expression turned grave again. “And tell her to train herself to control it.”

6.05PM

Jackie had met Jaida outside Vanjie’s, telling her that Brita had been called away by forensics to a potential lead on Northfield at about four thirty and hadn’t come back. Jaida had felt her heart sink a little, hoping it was not bad news, but Brita had stumbled in only five minutes after they had arrived.

“Was it serious?” Jaida asked quietly.

“Oh, no, it turned out to be a false alarm,” Brita laughed her infectious laugh, waving her hand. “Everything is fine. Wine?”

A glass of wine later, this time the three of them squeezed together on one side of the six-seater booth, somehow feeling much more comfortable and cosy than they had at any time previous. Jaida was on the end, always preferring an escape route, with Jackie sandwiched in the middle and Brita at the window, looking down at her phone and sometimes glancing outside at the street around them.

They’d forgotten it was student night when they had arrived, expecting it to be quiet like most places on Mondays, but the bar was getting busier and busier, and they had one of the last free booths. Lots of the students elected to stand, leaning on the bars and tables, and there was enough chatter in the air to drown out most of the music.

“What have you got so far, Jackie?” Jaida asked.

“The only person we’ve seen so far who’d led us to Gigi is … well, Thomas. And the only one of us who’s seen him is … well, you, Jai.” Jackie clicked her pen on and off, before Brita irritably snatched it from her hand. “Ow! Anyway, could he be responsible?”

“But he wanted to show me that Gigi was there,” Jaida said, the realisation dawning on her as she said the words. “Wait, why didn’t I get that before? He was trying to help us. Maybe he wanted to show -”

“I don’t think that’s right,” Brita interrupted suddenly. “He would have helped you get to Gigi, if that was the case. You said he just stood there.”

“That’s true,” murmured Jackie.

“Well, we’ve established that Gigi is stuck on the same plane that Thomas is on,” Jaida said, swirling her glass. “Can’t I just – link with him again? Persuade him to help? Maybe you two can connect too?”

“But we can’t see him,” Jackie whispered. She drummed on the notebook with her fingers. “Can we just link physically with you?”

“That won’t work, because it should have worked today if it did!”

“Maybe if Brita can project –“

“I don’t think that will work,” Brita interrupted again, wine obviously going straight to her head, “because I can’t control this fucking thing! There’s no point trying.”

“Can Dahlia come in the daytime tomorrow at all?” Jackie asked. “That would be the ideal, rather than waiting until the evening. And it depends on Crystal being free, too, but it’s been four days since anyone saw Gigi,” she added.  

“I’ll ask Dahlia, but she works days in her shop.” Jaida pulled out her phone.

Jaida:Dahl, can u do tomorrow at all? Day time possible? X

Dahlia:girl u know I cant just close the shop! If I can get mom to watch it then yeh x

Jaida:Cool cool let me know x

“I’ll see if I can call Crystal,” Jackie said, and Jaida let her step out of the booth and walk to the door for better signal. Jaida’s phone buzzed in her hand as she left.

Heidi: Jai!! im french kissin in the USA lol xx

Jaida: LOL!! Are u with Nicky?? Xx

Heidi:yeah her student cancelled so we havin a night in xx

Heidi:her housemate has a big Farsi dictionary

Heidi: and a french one too

Heidi:Jai do u wanna know the french word for bitch?? Xx

Jaida laughed at the selfie Heidi sent over, in the apartment she recognised as Jackie’s. Wait until she mentioned to Jackie that her housemate was Heidi’s date.

“Left her a voicemail. Also, when this case is over, I’m not drinking for a month,” Jackie declared, coming back over. “I swear we’ve been out to a bar all week. Saturday, Sunday, and now today. I don’t wanna be drinking on weeknights!”

“Speaking of which, it’s your round Jai,” Brita sang, nudging her empty glass towards Jaida and pointing to the bar at Vanjie’s. It was still quiet, but people were starting to filter in and it wouldn’t be long until they were engulfed in people, queueing at the bar.

Jaida got up and grabbed the tray, going to the bar to order. Vanessa was way at the other end of the bar with someone else, and Brooke was nowhere to be seen, so Jaida was all alone, with her thoughts.

“Well, hey there!”

Jaida spun round at the voice, and the familiar peach shampoo, to the radiance that was Jan. Her brown eyes were crinkled as she smiled, her blonde hair slightly damp from the rain. Jaida felt her heart jump at the sight of her, the very last person she’d been expecting to see.

“Hey, Jan.” Jaida wasn’t sure what else to say, but she smiled widely, and turned to look for Vanessa, who was still on the other side of the bar. It wasn’t like Jaida to feel tongue-tied, but she couldn’t find any clever words to say for once.

“I uh, will try not to spill stuff on your shirt today, looks too smart to ruin!” Jan laughed at her own comment.

“Your shirt is nice too,” Jaida said, taking in Jan’s lavender blouse and the black knee-length skirt. Jaida silently admired how the material fell.

“Thanks! I had an audition this afternoon. Another ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you’ moment!” Jan laughed again, this time a little bitter. “Getting a break is hard anywhere, but here in NYC? It’s impossible. I was just on my way back, and a little birdie told me you’d be here.”

“Which little birdie might that be?” Jaida chuckled, looking over at Brita and Jackie, who went from watching them to snapping their necks the other direction, in the blink of an eye. “Or do I need to ask?”

“I don’t think you do!” Jan sniggered.

“So,” Jaida rested her arm on the bar, “you sing?”

“Sure!”

“What’s your favourite song to sing? Because I can’t sing a note!” Jaida cringed at her awful conversational skills. When did she become this corny?

“That’s just modest! I bet you can sing Christina with me.”

Jaida’s jaw fell wide open in shock. “The Christina? I’m not even sure I can sing one octave, let alone five!”

“I’ll teach you,” Jan winked, “just follow my lead.”

She tossed her hair, rolled her shoulders back, and opened her mouth.

I am beautiful, no matter what they say / Words can’t bring me down!

Jaida listened to the slow, emphatic lyrics, the perfect pitch that came from that throat, the way Jan’s face twisted with the emotion, and Jaida’s whole body tingled for a couple of seconds, feeling a spread of goose pimples down her arms.

“Now you try,” Jan took one of Jaida’s hands, her shoulders twitching with excitement. “Just relax, look at me, take a deep breath …”

The peach shampoo swirled round them both, and Jaida started to feel like she was in some sort of dream, and not wanting to wake up; as she took a sharp breath in to knock Jan flat with her dreadful voice …

You are beautiful, in every single way / Words can’t bring you down / So don’t you bring me down today!

Jaida realised that she wasn’t singing the words; it was Jan’s voice, while Jaida just mouthed the lyrics along, the glorious sound filling up every pore of her skin, every empty space in her mind. Jan’s thumb was rubbing her palm, and Jaida found she could focus on nothing else but the slight pressure, feeling herself being pulled slowly into Jan’s eyes as they came closer to her …

“WAIT, who’s singing? Does this bar say KARAOKE on the sign? Monday nights are for SINGING are they?” Vanessa had come out of nowhere, breaking the spell, Jaida dropping Jan’s hand and turning to face Vanessa.

“Sorry, V!”

But Vanessa was smirking, raising her eyebrows knowingly at the pair of them, before disappearing to the other end of the bar. Jan waited until Vanessa was busying herself serving before resting a hand on Jaida’s forearm.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again,” she said, her eyes darting around Jaida’s face. “My shift starts at seven, I have to get back. See you soon.”

Jaida was hit with a little bit of courage. She put her hand on Jan’s, holding her to her forearm. “Jan, give me your phone number. And on Friday, get the night off your shift.”

“What?” Jan looked stunned.

“Well … if you want, we can go somewhere nice. Quiet. Have a coffee or something. If you want, that is? I clock off at four thirty if I can get round Brita.”

Jan was silent for a second, blinking. Then she leaned in towards Jaida, and kissed her on the cheek, right next to her lips. Jaida momentarily lost herself in the heady scent of Jan’s perfume, the tender  sensation of Jan’s lips against her skin, and as Jan reclined, smiling gently, Jaida had to blink to get her eyes to focus again.

“That sounds perfect.”

She was gone before Jaida could even think, a whoosh of blonde hair, closing the door of the bar and putting up her hood before walking off into the evening. Jaida exhaled slowly, not realising she’d been holding her breath.

Jaida glanced at her own booth, where Brita and Jackie hurriedly turned away from her again, like nothing had just happened.

“Child,” Jaida muttered to herself as she came back with the tray and three wines on it. Jackie looked at Jaida through her eyelashes, while Brita smirked triumphantly.

“You weren’t actually messaging Aiden, were you?” Jaida realised, tilting her head at Brita.

“Maybe I was and maybe I wasn’t,” Brita teased.

“Maybe you had a message from Jan, asking you to get me here tonight so she could drop in before her shift!”

Brita looked far too pleased with herself. She picked up her wine from the tray and chuckled.

“Have you got any more single friends?” Jackie asked Brita with a laugh.

Jaida ignored them both for a few minutes, busying herself with her phone, sending another urgent message.

Jaida: Heidi Almighty x

Jaida:My lovely ride or die

Jaida: The Bonnie to my Clyde xx

Heidi: Jai how many times have I told u, I got no bail money xx

Jaida: I got a fashion emergency, need date outfit help for Friday night! Xx

Heidi: oh really, where have I heard that before lol x

Jaida: Please!!!!!! :(

Heidi:ok hang on

[Heidi has added Nicky to the chat]

Nicky: bonsoir

Heidi:Jaida needs ur help with fashion cherie xx

Nicky: bien sûr

Jaida: LOL have you been teaching Heidi french? X

Heidi: merde!!

Nicky:that one was from my housemate’s dictionary……

[ifeveristoday]

well, that escalated quickly

The first card of the Major Arcana, The Fool is generally a positive card indicating new beginnings. If it appears in your readings it could mean that you are on the verge of an exciting, unexpected new adventure. Your new adventure will bring you along a path which may require you to make a leap of faith but you will grow as a result of this new experience. This new adventure could be a literal new adventure, like travelling to a place you’ve never been before. The change this card can bring will usually be a welcome one. While the Fool is generally a positive card, its appearance in a reading can also indicate that you need to take the time to look before you leap. [x]

Even when reversed, the Fool is an indicator of newness; as well as the purity and open-hearted energy of a child. This is generally considered a positive card, with the caveat that it's important to take time to be sure that you are "looking where you're going." In reversal, The Fool can show that there is a need for a new beginning, but that there is some hesitancy about making it happen. [x] 

When the Fool card is reversed, you are encountering an unfinished side of yourself, a part still caught in the shadows of ignorance or immaturity. An emotional reflex or psychological attitude could be holding you back from responding authentically and naturally.

Release yourself from any dogmas or taboos so your natural truthfulness and instinct for right action can be restored. [x]

Light some incense and find a crushed velvet vest and let’s get to issue 16 of Buffy.

Spoilers, as always underneath the cut. Also long and semi-rambly so if you’re new to this tumblr...yeah. 

Short version: There’s a thing I’m not sure I like yet, the usual layer cake of THEMES and how it all ties together, and good character stuff.

Wow. So they’re really going there with Buffy and Evil! Xander. But it’s not like the comic hasn’t left crumbs of a potential -- something happening between them. Vamp! Xander’s first confrontation with Buffy was a crude sexual come-on, which she rebuffed very quickly, and then when he had his soul, there was an ambiguous hug between them in Hellmouth. Xander’s feelings about Buffy have always been pretty clear. 

And while I’m not thrilled that in the year 2020 we still can’t have a platonic relationship between Buffy and Xander (like, I joke about this being a Point to the reboot that Joss insisted on, but of course that’s just speculation. But come on. He totally would), it’s not like the comic was not giving clues, clunky though some of them may be. Buffy’s Slayer dream of Vamp! Xander and Vamp! Her, Robin’s oddly insistent interrogation of Buffy’s feelings for Xander, the dinosaur gift of Zeppo, and Buffy’s own ambivalence toward Robin as a real potential boyfriend. 

Issue 14 (which I still haven’t written a thorough post about) showcases (not explicitly written as such, but the characteristics are there) a PTSD-afflicted Buffy, who has lost both of her best friends in a matter of weeks. She’s not on good terms with her mother, Giles is still weird after his descent into magically induced MRA-ness and not exactly comforting her, and having to accept the reality of Kendra being a Slayer as well. There’s a lot of anxiety, jealousy, and survivor’s guilt thrown in there as well, and we all know Buffy’s favorite thing to do when she’s going through a lot of pain: ISOLATE HERSELF. 

And then here’s Robin, telling her he’s on her side and is a friendly face and Buffy seizes that emotional life line and decides, well if I can’t like myself (this is referenced in Issue 15), Robin will do it for me. It’s a lonely, but understandable grasp at something normal and not...the reality of her present life.

Except Robin realizes he can’t be Buffy’s emotional support almost-boyfriend, and that Buffy has a martyr complex where she can’t be just the hero but also the villain in her own story - she takes on all of the fault but none of the help and love that does exist in her life.

He tells her that one of her problems is that she just doesn’t like herself.

And it’s a hard truth for Buffy to bear but she admits it.

Issue 16 dips into Buffy’s mixed up feelings re: love and connection and the thread that ties it together is the tarot card Jenny pulls from her spread to read to Dolly, her cat.

Best reveal of the reboot so far, no I won’t take any objections. Her cat! Is named Dolly! Possibly after Dolly Parton, stealth producer of BtVS!

Jenny, lone human adult voice of Reason, pulls the upside down Fool and I’ve included three meanings of it up above. The reason why I think it’s a common thread for this issue is because in Buffy’s slayer dream where she’s riding Zeppo the Symbolism? What Symbolism Dinosaur with Xander (with some terrible punning), Buffy says that they can’t let Zeppo drive, he’s too young and doesn’t know how to get to where they’re going. Xander replies, “Do you even remember where we’re going?”

And prior to this Buffy worries that they’re going too fast and to slow down. 

This could signify a number of things - definitely new beginnings with Evil! Xander and the changed nature of his relationship to Buffy, Buffy’s personal fear that she doesn’t know what’s happening, only that it is too fast, and the fact they’re both so young. And for the moment, Xander will forever be this young. And with his reputation as being the ‘funny’ one, Xander could also be considered a Fool. 

He’s in a state of being unfinished - he’s never going to experience the trials of regular adulthood, the personal milestones a human being has. And Buffy is unfinished in that she’s not done growing up, but she is also the Slayer, which requires a level of sacrifice that other girls her age wouldn’t experience.

Jenny pulling this card - well, there’s the unfinished nature of her relationship with Giles, they’re broken up but still pining over each other, and the fact that she doesn’t seem to have stayed in touch with anyone in the Scoobies? And her only confidante seems to be her cat. Which, no judgement, cats are good listeners.

Dolly is also a good detector of Ye Olde Supernatural Bullshit, as she senses something bad behind Jenny’s all of a sudden visitor, and Hulk! Giles a few issues back.

It is of course, Xander, who is gleefully pleased that it was that easy to trick Jenny into inviting him in.

Fade into black- sort of, as the next step is Xander playing mind games via text.

Right after Buffy has her weird dinosaur dream, she tries to google meanings of it, as well as sending Willow texts in a long chain of non replied thread, updating her about what’s been happening in Sunnydale in her absence. I noticed she used a similar - “I’ll be here for you” in her message to Rose, and I think that’s Buffy’s way of changing. She wants to be there for her people, instead of avoiding them.

And she gets a text (Miss me?) from Xander, which prompts her to run to Giles and Kendra. 

This is a neat(?) reference to how Xander got catfished by Drusilla when she texted him from Buffy’s phone. God, the way this sentence sounds out of context to an TV canon fan.

ANYWAY.

Buffy states that Xander died the night the Hellmouth closed, and they had a candlelight vigil and his parents barely leave the house - which makes me think while Hank Summers is a bastard in every ‘verse, Boom! has a good dad for Robin, Joyce and Eric for Buffy, and apparently good parents for Willow and Xander as well. Yay.

Kendra, who is more objective than Buffy and Giles can be regarding Xander, theorizes that Xander’s disappearance might not be death in a final sense, but rather his soul disappearing. Which causes the question, where has his body been this whole time? Also, I see that I Robot, You Jane easter egg, Jordie.

Setting Jenny’s house on fire, that’s what. Giles gets a similarly upsetting text on his phone, and they run to her house. Buffy and Kendra immediately throw themselves into save the cat (and Jenny!) mode and run into Evil! Xander. Quite literally - Xander grabs Kendra by the neck and throws her out of the window from the second floor - don’t worry, she survives.

We can’t be fridging the POC this early, after all.

Then it’s Xander and Buffy’s first glimpse of each other since Hellmouth, and standard enemy banter ensues - Xander says it’s just them and Buffy snaps that it’s only in his dreams. Then the staircase starts cracking due to the fire’s heat and Buffy’s thisclose to falling off when Xander grabs her, and in his human mask tells her that it could just be them together, if she wants it. Buffy takes Kendra’s advice to stop feeling and just think, and kicks Xander in a jump with both her feet aimed at his chest. Also she says she’d rather die than let that happen, which...I really hope aren’t famous last words.

The fool card flutters down and lands on Buffy’s forehead, reminding her that she’s on a rescue mission for Jenny. Who is nowhere to be found, but Dolly leaps into Buffy’s arms, and she carries her out.

Giles, Kendra and Buffy reconvene at Giles’s and try to figure out why Xander targeted Jenny. 

Giles, who started the issue being a concerned mentor has grown smaller and less confident toward the end as he asks Buffy and Kendra to find Jenny. Buffy vows that they’re going to make Xander pay. Giles sadly agrees and then leaves to show Dolly the garden.

Let me pause a moment to cry about the fact that Giles is showing Jenny’s cat the garden.

Kendra and Buffy bond, sincerely, for the first time since Kendra made her appearance. Sister slayers, fuck yeah! Also, I love Kendra’s characterization and I hope she stays for a long time. And not die.

There’s a thawing there as each switch positions - Kendra tells Buffy it’s okay that she feels the way she feels, as Buffy tells her, no, she’s right, Xander isn’t the boy she knew, and to treat him like he’s just a regular vampire.

Then she admits she’s not sure if she misses Xander, or if it’s something else, to which Kendra replies, “I think when you know, you know.”

And Buffy asks her like her and Rose - and Kendra confirms it.

Just as Kendra’s words end the issue, Willow - who could be OG timeline Willow, or an Alternate Verse Willow, comes into the light and holds Rose’s hand.

DRAAAAMA.

So. Xander and Buffy heading toward something, Kendra/Rose confirmed, Giles has now adopted Dolly, Jenny’s status: Currently Unknown.

And Willow?

Though with the Fool, there’s that meaning of new adventures and travelling to a place you’ve never been before. That sums up Willow’s current journey so far.

[jojosbizarreblog]

Let Down Your Crystal Walls

2 //3// 4

Chapter 3: Tongue Tower Twister

Well, being on a plane was certainly a lot more lackluster than she realized. After the tense car ride and ticket-checking, the group settled themself comfortably on the plane. Kyogen had managed to snag a window seat next to Avdol and was staring out the said window at the clouds passing by. Jotaro and Joseph were napping in the seats behind her and Kakyoin behind them. Avdol was reading a book and Kyogen lamented not bringing any with her. 

Avdol piped up, not turning from his book. “You have a very unique Stand, Wind-san.”

Kyogen glanced at him. “So do you, Avdol-sama.” 

The male closed his book and retrieved something from his pocket “You don’t have to be so formal, Avdol is fine. But as for appearances, Stands come in all sorts of different shapes and sizes. I’ve never seen two alike Stands before.”

Kyogen hummed thoughtfully and started comparing her Stand’s feature to the others that she glimpsed. Sharpnote seemed to be the only one with extremely simplified facial features, its eyes being upright rectangles and mouth being a simple triangle, incapable of displaying any facial movements. Compared to Star Platinum who looked like a human, minus the flowing hair, purple body, and the chiseled muscles of a Greek god. “Yesterday was my first time seeing any Stands besides Sharpnote.” 

“That’s interesting... Stand users are attracted to each other, and Sharpnote is pretty friendly too.”

Kyogen shrugged. “That’s just the way he always is.”

“Hm. While Stands are influenced by your fighting spirit, they also act out based on your innermost emotions.”

Kyogen glanced at him. What was the man trying to get at? “And?”

“Nothing, it’s just you’re very different from your Stand.”

She frowned and stared at the airplane seat in front of her. “Some scars run deep.”

“I see. You are a girl of mystery, Wind. If you would indulge me for a moment, I would like to try and read your fortune.” He presented the pack of Tarot cards to Kyogen.

Kyogen huffed but reached for it. Just as she was about to pull out a card, the plane rumbled and she looked up. A buzzing was heard echoing throughout the cabin. She paused and handed the cards back to Avdol as a huge beetle drifted into the aisle she and the group were at. Jotaro was the first to get out of his seat, being the closest to the bug.

“Be careful,” Avdol warned Jotaro as the teen got ready to catch it. “I’ve heard there is a user of a bug Stand that likes to rip out the tongues of its victims.”

The teen didn’t reply. “Star Platinum!” Jotaro called, the spirit manifesting and taking a swipe at the bug, who dodged.

“I-I can’t believe it!” Avdol exclaimed. “It’s faster than Star Platinum, whose speed and precision are such that it can grasp bullets!”

That put Kyogen on high alert as she stood up from her seat. This was not good.

“It has to be a stand,” Kakyoin muttered. “That bug is a stand! Where is he? Where is he hiding?”

Kyogen scanned the plane warily. She wished she had her knives with her, but they were packed away in the bag under the chair.

The bug hovered above them and began to foam green froth at the mouth. “It’s attacking!” Kakyoin yelled.

A slimy needle erupted out of its mouth and hit Star Platinum’s hand. It drew blood and the protrusion retreated back. Kujo had a wound on his hand mirroring his Stand.

The protrusion launched forward again.

“Jotaro!”

“Jojo!”

A crackle filled the air. The needle was hovering three inches from Star Platinum's open mouth. A wall of crystal held it back, shielding Jotaro and his stand from more damage. Sharpnote revealed itself from behind the wall and Kyogen twitched. She barely knew these people, and yet...

Joseph said, “Sharpnote was able to stop it from hitting Star Platinum’s mouth but…”

“Since it tried to bite off Jotaro’s Stand’s tongue…” Avdol murmured. “It must be him! The Tower Card of the Tarot… The one that depicts a Stand suggesting destruction, calamity, the end of a journey, Tower of Gray!”

What?

“The Tower of Gray commits mass murders, making them look like accidents,” the fortune-teller said, placing the heel of his palm over his forehead. “The airplane crash that happened last year in England, causing 300 deaths, is thought to have been its work. I had heard rumors, but it seems he’s working with Dio!”

Star Platinum reared back and soared over Sharpnote’s wall, unleashing a barrage of punches and screaming ‘ora’ as it aimed for the beetle. Or, where the beetle was, as its mouth needle broke free off the crystals just in time to dodge the attacks.

“I-It’s so fast!” Avdol stuttered. “It dodged all of that, not only the single hand but the two-fisted rush of blows!” 

Kyogen heard laughter as she called Sharpnote back, the wall of crystals shrinking as the Stand disappeared. “Even if you were to have ten guns shoot bullets from one centimeter away, they would not be able to touch my Stand!” The mysterious user said. “And you couldn’t kill my Stand with a bullet anyway.” A new needle emerged from the beetle’s mouth. 

Strangely, Kyogen noted that all the other passengers were still asleep despite the racket they were making. She couldn’t find a single soul who was awake. The beetle disappeared and reappeared behind a man, laughter emitting from it as it slowly dropped behind him. Kyogen let out a hoarse cry as it erupted from his jaw and plowed through the other passengers in front.

Blood spurted from them and Kyogen flinched when some splattered near her, thankfully stopped by the wall of crystals and her Stand. She stared in shock at the scene in front of her. The beetle had all the corpses’ tongues on its mouth needle. Bile rose up from her throat and Kyogen clasped a hand to her mouth. She could still see it when she shut her eyes, dark, crimson blood, and limp, bloodied flesh.

The voice cackled. “Bingo!” He cheered. “Got their tongues! And my objective…” The beetle flew to the wall and began writing on it with the blood. “Massacre!”

Kyogen had to squeeze her eyes shut to prevent another bout of nausea, trying to preserve the remnants of her composure. She was beginning to hate planes as well and it seemed like Sharpnote shared her sentiment, shifting back and forth tensely next to her.

From beside her, Avdol yelled, “I will burn it to death! Magician’s Red!” 

A flaming, bird-headed behemoth emerged from Avdol, ready to fight. They were held back by Kakyoin. “Wait!” He called. “Wait a moment, Avdol!”

The heat died down as Avdol paused and the Stand was brought back to him. A rickety old man straightened from his chair, rubbing his eyes. “It’s so noisy,” he grumbled. “I wonder what all the ruckus is.”

Kyogen and the group tensed as the beetle floated closer to him. “Sir,” she began cautiously. “Please do not move out of your seat.”

The old man didn’t seem to be paying attention to her and stood up. “I guess I’ll go to the bathroom…” he said. He paused and Kyogen grimaced as he swiped at the blood on the wall. “What’s with this slimy stuff? M…A…” The rest was cut off by a scream as he began backing away from the wall. “I-Is it blood?!? Blood!”

Kakyoin moved as the man got closer to him. “Atemi,” the male said as he struck the man in the back of his head. Said man promptly collapsed. Sharpnote moved beside him and carefully dragged the old man away from the aisle. “We have to defeat it before the other passengers panic. But, Avdol, an active Stand like your Magician’s Red could make the plane explode. And Jojo, if your power were to put a hole in the fuselage, it’d be a catastrophe. My quiet Stand,” Kakyoin whirled to face the beetle behind him, “Hierophant Green is most suited to defeating it.”

“Heh, heh, heh. Kakyoin Noriaki, eh? I’ve heard all about you from Lord Dio. Stop. If you know that your Stand is quiet, there’s no point in challenging me. You cannot catch me with your speed.”

“You think so?” Kakyoin asked. His Stand appeared next to him with its hands facing each other, one upright and one pointing down. “Emerald Splash!” Kakyoin called. Green liquid burst forth and exploded from the Stand. Kyogen’s eyes widened when she saw the glimmering emeralds in it. Sharpnote had an attack very similar to Hierophant Green’s Emerald Splash, although it had some changes. 

The beetle had no trouble dodging it, so Kakyoin yelled for Emerald Splash a second time. He would need help. Sharpnote clunked his way in front of her and tilted his head back, waiting for instruction. Kyogen nodded and whispered, “Diamond Rain.”

The Stand nodded and turned back. Sharpnote inhaled. A burst glittering crystals exploded from the Stand’s mouth, spreading across the area where the beetle was. It wasn’t prepared for the sudden attack from a different angle and got nicked a few times. However, the insect righted itself and continued dodging. “Fools!” It cried. “You seem to think you can hit me if you fire enough shots, but you’ve barely hit me at all!” 

“This isn’t good! Even with Wind’s help, it’s still dodging with speed!” Avdol cried. 

The needle protrusion shot from its mouth and cracked open Hierophant’s mouthpiece, blood emerging from both the Stand and Kakyoin himself. 

“Kakyoin!”

Said boy fell to his knees with his Stand and Kyogen dove to prevent him from hitting the floor. She grunted as most of his bulk rested on her and thanked the fact that his stand was incorporeal at the moment. Kakyoin propped himself up with her and Sharpnote’s help.

“My speed is on an entirely different level!” The beetle buzzed above them. “You’re way too slow to get a bingo! And Kakyoin…” It zoomed closer and foam began to froth at the corner of its mouth. “With my next attack, I’ll stab your Stand’s tongue with this Tower Needle and rip it out! And then I’ll rip out the stupid girl’s tongue!”

No, Kyogen gritted her teeth. She wasn’t going to allow it to touch Kakyoin nor his Stand. “Diamond Rain,” she muttered. Sharpnote inhaled and launched the attack again, chunks of crystals shooting at the beetle. 

“Don’t you get it??? Once this rips your tongue out, you’ll go mad from the pain!” It dove at them.

Kyogen let loose a low growl and tried to drag Kakyoin back, but paused when she saw his stand. Hierophant’s feet were spread out on the ground, worming its way underneath chairs. She was confused about what was going on as Kakyoin said, “What? If its tongue is ripped out, it’ll go mad from the pain?” He straightened, taking his weight off Kyogen. “My Hierophant Green?” 

The needle from the beetle shot at them and two things happened at once. Sharpnote shifted to cover them as green tendrils shot from the surrounding areas and speared through the beetle. “What?!” 

“If it rips you apart, it’ll go mad alright… from joy!”

Pained sounds escaped the beetle as it trembled in its suspended state. One wrong move would mean the end. Now that the bug was immobilized, it was safe for Kyogen to pull herself up as Kakyoin did the same. She dusted her school uniform off, thankful that it was still clean. Kakyoin's plan became clear and she cursed at herself for not realizing it sooner. “Hierophant’s appendages had already slipped beneath the sheets. Didn’t you realize I was trapping you there with the Emerald Splash?” 

The bug twitched and got pulled into bits as the appendages yanked it apart. The old man that Sharpnote had moved to a chair jerked up, screaming. A dark imprint of a beetle began to appear on his tongue as it blackened and split apart. Kyogen looked away as blood spurted from his head and he went limp. She didn’t know how to feel. Relieved that the danger was over, conflicted that she’d sent Sharpnote to aid this man, nauseated by the things the man did.

“So that old geezer was the Stand user?” Kakyoin asked. He took out a handkerchief and wiped at the blood running down his chin. “A repulsive Stand usually has a repulsive user.”

The group gathered around the dead man’s body, although Kyogen went back to her chair and collapsed in it. She was mentally exhausted from the event and wanted to find some semblance of peace in the form of sleep. Hopefully without nightmares. 

Kakyoin stared at the man and messed with the end of his hair strand. “It doesn’t appear that he has Dio’s flesh bud in his forehead…” Kakyoin mused. 

Avdol sat back down next to her after draping a sheet over the body. The other three chose to stand in the aisle. “From the start, Tower of Gray was an evil Stand that killed tourists, making it look like an accident only in return for payment. I’m sure Dio was able to use him because he was easily bought, and blinded by greed.” 

Kyogen was slipping in and out of sleep until her body tilted and hit the wall. She straightened up and groaned inwardly. Sleep would be so nice right now.

“Something’s wrong,” Joseph said. Kyogen growled underneath her breath. “I could be imagining it, but it seems like the plane is flying crooked.”

“It is crooked, Joestar-sama,” Kyogen mumbled. 

The older man jolted. “I-It can’t be!” He began to make his way to the front of the plane. 

The rest of the males shared a look and Kyogen screamed silently as they began following Joseph. The girl plodded along after them, her blank face a little more dead-looking than before, and her ponytail mussed up from sleep. She couldn’t quite see what was happening as they reached the door to the cockpit because of how absurdly tall everyone was. Sticking her head out from behind Avdol, she saw Kakyoin with two attendant ladies in his arms. He seemed to be murmuring comforts to them and Kyogen raised an eyebrow.

Kakyoin gently pushed them aside to make way. The cockpit door was wide open as she stepped in after Avdol and bore witness to the scene before her. The bodies of the pilot were all slumped over, their tongues missing from their mouth. 

Joseph went up to the controls and bent down, looking at them “It’s falling,” he said. “And the autopilot’s been destroyed as well. We’re going to crash!”

Kyogen decided at that moment that she really hated planes as well. There was a loud splat behind her and ugly laughter. Kyogen whipped around, face twisted into a scowl when she saw the old man. 

He was somehow alive and walking, although he looked worse for wear. “I am the Stand that holds The Tower card which suggests accidents at the end of a journey,” he declared, pointing a finger at the group. “You will not reach Lord Dio! Even if you survive this crash, you are 6,213 miles from Egypt! Those who swore loyalty to Dio will pursue you every hour of the day! There are Stands in this world that you can’t even imagine. Lord Dio is the master of Stands! He has the power to reign over them, you bastards will never reach Egypt!”

Kyogen turned away from him as he fell down into a pool of his own blood. The attendant ladies gasped in fear as they saw the old man’s body.

“You’re definitely professionals,” Jotaro said, settling himself onto the pilot seat next to Joseph. “It’s a good thing you didn’t scream, that would have been annoying. Now, I have a request. This old man is going to emergency land this plane on the water. Go put life jackets and seat belts on all of the other passengers. “

“G-Got it!” They both bolted away.

Jotaro turned to Joseph. “Old man,” he said to Joseph, silently asking the question they all had on their minds.

“Well… I have experience with propeller planes. But Jotaro… this is my third time. Have you ever heard of someone being in a crashing plane three times?”

Kyogen’s legs got weak as she sighed forcefully through her nose. Planes, national public enemy number two on her list.

“I’m never going to ride on a plane with you again,” Jotaro said. “You three, grab our belongings and get buckled up. It’s going to be a rough ride.”

Kyogen didn’t wait to hear it a second time and gingerly stepped around the bloodied body in the hallway. “Come on, Kakyoin, Avdol. We need to grab our stuff from the overhead baggage and get ready to land.”

The other two followed her and they passed the attendant ladies frantically handing out live vests. Kyogen snagged three and passed the other two to Avdol and Kakyoin. They reached their seats and Kyogen waited for Kakyoin to pass down the baggage, being too short to reach the overhead compartment herself.

“I’ll take either Mr. Joestar’s or Kujo’s bag,” Kyogen said. “I have the least baggage to carry.”

“Are you, sure?” Kakyoin asked. “Avdol and I can carry them.” “Yes.”

Kakyoin passed a black duffle bag to her and Kyogen sat down with it. She pulled hers from the under-seat compartment and settled down. Her hands trembled as she buckled the seatbelt and Kyogen’s heart was pounding. She squeezed her eyes closed. Jeez, she just faced off against an assassin but she was more terrified of an airplane crashing? 

A warm hand settled on her shoulder and Kyogen snapped her head to face the person. “It’s okay, Wind.” He soothed. “The plane has safety precautions which will make a water landing much smoother.”

Kyogen gave him a stiff nod. 

All she could do now is to wait.

[akindoftarot]

ATTENTION QUEEN FANDOM ARTISTS

I’m organising a fandom wide collaborative art project - creating a Queen themed tarot deck! I’ve organised general ideas of what each card will feature so that we get a good range of images and theres a connection to the meanings of each card but I can’t create all 78 art pieces on my own.

For the moment I’m going to focus on the Major Arcana of which there are 22. So, if you are an artist in the Queen fandom and would be interested in participating please follow the link below to a short survey I’ve created where you’ll be asked to rank the cards in order of which you’d be most interested in creating art for.

LINK

Below the cut I have included the list of cards and the prompts for each one, as well as some other info about the project. If you have any questions that weren’t covered below please send me a message (via ask box or dm)!

If you see this and aren’t artistically inclined please give it a reblog or share it with any artists you know. I’d love this post to reach as many artists as possible and I can’t rely on tumblr to show it in the tags or anything so I would love some extra help spreading the world.

Why A Tarot Deck?

I’m honestly not even sure where exactly this idea came from. All I remember is that one day I thought it would be a fun idea and then I started thinking about it more and realised just how much work it would be. In an effort to learn about the meanings of the tarot cards I started learning to read tarot (something I’ve been curious about for many years now anyway) and it all sort of snowballed from there.

Why Multiple Artists?

Because I’m not confident or capable enough of pulling this off on my own lmao. I enjoy making art but I struggle big time with drawing people and faces and I know I would give up after a handful of cards if I was doing this on my own. But multi-artist decks are very much a thing in the tarot community and theres some really cool ones out there.

What Sort of Art?

Anything. Whatever medium you enjoy using - digital, watercolour, acrylics, charcoal, etc - and whatever your style is! As long as you can send me a clean copy that can fit into the card template, then you can do what you like. The prompts I’ve chosen for each card are also fairly loose because I didn’t want to limit anyone’s creativity. Part of the joy of a collaborative deck is everyone’s individual interpretations of the cards and the imagery on them.

The only times I may say you can’t depict a particular outfit or moment is if I’ve already planned it to be on one of the minor arcana cards but otherwise you’ll have free reign.

I Don’t Know Anything About Tarot, Does That Matter?

NOPE! After the survey responses have been collected I will deal out the cards to everyone (hopefully in a way where everyone gets to work on something they really want to 🤞) and part of that will include a PDF with some information about the card - keywords associated with it, examples of other decks, why that prompt was chosen for it, etc - to help you get started if you need it. I am also always available to ask questions or bounce ideas off of.

Distribution?

This is the part I’m still looking into. I am wary of putting these up for sale anywhere because obviously there are copyright things and using people’s likenesses and all of that and the last thing I want is for my favourite band to take me to court lmao. Currently I am investigating a site called Make Playing Cards which basically lets you design your own card decks (one of the specific options being tarot cards) and print them off without having to bulk order anything. I’m just not entirely sure if they let you upload and share a design for free or if you have to put them up for sale. I’ll also create a PDF version that people can print themselves at home if they like. If anyone has any other suggestions for this I am all ears!

Of course something like Kickstarter is also an option I guess but, again, I’m still looking into all of this.

Time frame?

I definitely do not want to rush this. The loose timeline I’ve been working off of gives you three or four months to create your card after which time I can start finding people for the minor arcana cards. But, this can be adjusted depending on how many people sign up and y’know if everyone submits their pieces earlier than that then we can bump the next stage up. But I want to give everyone ample time to create something they are proud of. And I am very aware that the current global situation is affecting people’s creative energies and on top of that some of you may be participating in Inktober or similar things around this time of year, so I am also happy to extend the timeline.

What Happens If Not Enough People Sign Up?

Look, I guess it depends on how few artists are interested. Ideally I’d get enough people to do the major arcana but I’m not getting my hopes up. There is a question in the survey asking if you’d be willing to create multiple pieces so if there are left over cards I can hand them out to anyone who says they want them. I can also do a couple myself I just can’t do all 78 cards on my own.

What Happens If Too Many People Sign Up?

I am surprisingly prepared for this scenario. Firstly there were a few ideas I was throwing around that didn’t end up being used in the final list so potentially we can create some alternate cards.

Secondly, there is still the minor arcana to do as well. The minors will work a bit differently though. The minor arcana is similar to a deck of playing cards with four suits (wands, cups, pentacles, swords) and the numbers ace through ten plus four court cards (king, queen, knight, page). I was thinking the same artist could pick a number or court position and create the four cards for it so that they all match, if that makes sense. That way all of the Fours will look the similar and all of the kings will look similar etc. SO if anyone doesn’t get to do a major arcana I’ll check if they’d be interested in tacking a minor instead.

You Said There Would Be A List Where’s The List?

The Fool/s - Smile

The Magician/s - Queen

The High Priestess - Freddie in The Great Pretender

The Empress - Roger in The Great Pretender

The Emperor - Miami

The Hierophant - The Prophets Song

The Lovers - Freddie and Jim

The Chariot - Tour Bus

Justice - Present Day Bri

The Hermit - Older John

Wheel of Fortune - A Night At The Opera/Bohemian Rhapsody record

Strength - Ben Hardy

The Hanged Man - Highlander (or any of the queen songs featured in it)

Death - Bri in the Hard Life video

Temperance - Naked bicycle race

The Devil - Death on Two Legs

The Tower - Frank from News of the World

The Star - Rami Malek

The Moon - Gwilym Lee

The Sun - Joe Mazzello

Judgement - Adam Lambert/Q+AL?

The World - Made In Heaven/Tribute Concert

As you can see there’s a mix of Queen themselves, other people associated with them, objects associated with the band, and songs. I know some of these are sightly out there or unusual but please have a think about them and see if any spark your interest or get the creative juices flowing. I am also open to discussing potential other images to use instead if you’ve got an idea. As long as they can be tied to the meaning of the cards.

[worryingthing]

Illuminati Hotties - Frequent Letdown

I was thinking of a little project, to maybe help pull me up, or maybe center me, stear me a bit off of the course of nihilist depression I’ve been on. A meditation of sorts, through the Tarot, if and when I feel like it. Writing helps me sort my thoughts, usually? It’s the start of Leo season and I feel squirmy about that because I feel the opposite of my worth and the complete void of confidence lately. It’s almost August and I’ve been to the beach one time!! and even then it felt like risking our lives potentially? to be nourished, by the sea, the thing I extremely desperately need to wash away all the crowding stray thoughts and sneaky trauma that has settled in comfortably during this time of quarantine. I haven’t been on the Subway since March 13th. I’m unemployed, not playing music at all, and struggling not to be disappointed when I wake up dreading every day. So, a little exercise I guess? The song is there because I like it and that’s how I feel. I listened to it while I shuffled and drew my card. For the curious I am using the classic Smith-Waite tarot deck, I like the clarity of traditional decks’ imagery. It tells a story well. 

For this first entry I pulled the Ace of Pentacles. It looks like a hand from a Monty Python illustration is floating out of a cloud and holding a big coin, which has a star in the center.  Pen-TA-CULLS . I know this suit represents the earth signs, money and all, right? I’m a Taurus sun and rising and no one is surprised. Anyway this card has the floating hand and it’s coin and it also has a garden underneath, and the garden has what look like tall lilies blooming, and then there is a hedge with an archway, and the hedge has red flowers or leaves, and the archway gives way to a view of a pale blue mountain. There is a little worn path that leads to and through the arch. There is grass and growth and lusciousness and what I sense from this card is its statement of possibility. Let’s check Biddy Tarot though:

No matter the occasion, the Ace of Pentacles heralds a sense of prosperity and abundance in the material or financial areas of your life. It undoubtedly comes as a welcome invitation – but it is not a free ride. As with all Aces in the Tarot deck, this card illustrates the possibility of a new endeavor but does not guarantee its manifestation or success. That piece is up to you.

Ok, so full disclosure, a while ago my friend and I talked about illustrating a tarot deck where cards would be paired with songs. We began outlining the project but then, of course, life happened. So forgive me if this exercise constantly brings me back to song, but that is the realm of my old self that my present self just sort of woefully drags around like a deflated homunculus. Anyway this reminds me of (course!) of Springsteen. In truly the most devastating call out I’ve ever felt encountered in lyric form:

You can hide 'neath your covers And study your pain Make crosses from your lovers Throw roses in the rain Waste your summer praying in vain

Ok, so Biddy Tarot also says this: See the Ace of Pentacles as your ‘green light’. It marks the initial stages of manifesting your goals and assures you that you can truly achieve what you have set your mind to do. The world is your oyster and, through careful planning and determined effort, you can manifest your goals and desires. Your ideas are ready to turn into something tangible and real! This card encourages you to map out how you will achieve your ambitions, create targeted plans and get those actions underway. Keep your eyes open for chances to manifest your goals and realise your inner potential.

To be quite honest I wasn’t expecting this much of a doozy with my first pull for this weird, blog accountability thing I made up. But then the next verse of the song goes on to say: Well I got this guitar, and I learned how to make it talk.

Which is of course, abstractly, a goal of mine. I’d love to get good enough to pen a few jangly tunes. I know I could do it? but also I’ve no idea how to continue with music after everything, but I do miss it, and lately I’ve been lusting after a reasonably priced mini amp. I also need actual life direction, which is a huge bummer, and frankly too much to consider in the midst of a pandemic where everyone I know is lucky to even be employed, or alive, at best. D also wants to get out of this country, and who can blame him? It’s so hard to think about now though, what would I be losing? the friends I can’t see, the trains I can’t take, the live music scene I’m unsure will ever recover? 34 is an odd weird year to lose to nothingness this way. Everyone just wants me to have a baby. and i want a single fucking hour of peace and alone time, and to learn all of my favorite guitar riffs without being absolutely overcome by grief of missing the music community I formerly took part in (That’s not all I want, obviously, but I could really use everyone else getting a grip about telling me I need to procreate!!!). ANYWAY the tarot further says: 

This Ace signifies abundance in all areas of your life. Enjoy it! Feel blessed and deserving of everything that comes your way. If you wish to amplify this feeling of prosperity, live by the Law of Attraction and send your positive energy and intent into the Universe so you will receive more in return.

I am pretty sure I can do that. I sent a friend chocolate this week. I have donated variously when I can to places in support of protests and bail funds. I did some yoga today and then did an online figure drawing session, which was me directly trying to make time for myself. I made bread last night and then baked it this afternoon and ate some for dinner as a broccoli melt.  and now I am doing this. I made space for myself and made myself be thankful. I am taking myself by the scruff and forcing my face into the food bowl of existence and making myself appreciate it, even when it has felt excruciating. I’m treading water when I want to be laying down under the waves and merging with the silt. I don’t know. Maybe this will help or maybe I’ll abandon it. It probably would have been smarter to do a spread and not just one card? But a new season? and whether mockingly or not this card seems to feel I have an opportunity to rise to and meet? 

[shapeshifting-wildcard]

It was a lazy summer afternoon. Joker was helping out behind the counter today, but he had time to spare for a new friend. Especially one who was going to teach him a new skill he could use as a Phantom Thief. At first glance, learning how to divine through tarot cards didn't seem like a particularly useful skill. But the point was to hone his supernatural abilities through a known occult focus. Besides, Arisato was a more experienced Persona-user, and a fellow wildcard on top of it. She was bound to have some sort of useful experience to pass along to a young up-and-coming thief like him, right?

The deck she slid over to him looked rather pretty, he had to admit. The backs were a purple, starry field. In the center was a stylized sun, surrounded by a ring of heavily stylized animals. He could recognize a bird and a turtle, and the third looked vaguely like a dragon? Much more of a western-style dragon than an eastern one. Were they meant to represent the four heavenly beasts? Because the fourth one looked more like a fox than a tiger.

He picked up the deck and flipped it over, revealing the front of the cards. He thumbed through it, admiring the vibrant colors and the ethereal, watercolor-y feel of the images. Each image had this flow to it, drawing the eye exactly where it needed to go. Or, at least, that's how Joker felt.

A particular image caught his eye as he flipped through them. An individual in a pointed, birdlike mask, sporting black wings and a bestial lower half and carrying a sword. Crows circled around them, and a big white swan stood above, wings spread wide and its back facing the figure crouched on the ground.

"They're really pretty, aren't they?" the girl sitting at the counter commented. She leaned forward a bit to see which card he was lingering on, and let out a soft laugh. "Seven of Swords, huh? Well, the booklet does compare that one to a thief. So it'd make sense that you'd find it interesting."

She flashed him a cheeky grin as he huffed at her. The only reason you're getting away with that is because there's no one else around. He's supposed to be sneaky. It's hard to do that when everyone keeps outing your status as a Phantom Thief. He frowned as he kept flipping through the cards, mostly as an excuse to ignore her giggling. He stopped again on another card. Five of Pentacles. A figure sat hunched over in a corner, curled in on themself. Their face was hidden from view, their only companions a butterfly floating in front of them and a vaguely attentive lizard on another platform. The image gave off an uncomfortable feeling of loneliness, of isolation. Of losing something you can never truly get back.

He saw her lean forward to see what caught his attention this time. Before she could get a good look, he stacked the deck back together and slid it over to her, leaning over the counter and pulling up his phone. She couldn't speak sign, unfortunately, so he'd have to make due with note-passing.

"So, where do we start?" She glanced at the phone and smiled, picking up the deck and tapping it on the counter.

"Well, obviously, the first thing you do is shuffle all the cards." She slid the deck back towards him. "It's better if you have the person asking the question shuffle the cards. I guess it gives them a feel for the question-asker or something?"

Joker shrugged and picked up the deck again. He split the deck and tried to do that trick where you leaf the cards together. If you do it right, you should release the cards one at a time in turn, one from each side of the deck. Unfortunately for Joker, it did not turn out quite so neatly. It was more like a few chunks of cards came out at a time, smacking against the counter rather ungracefully. Arisato offered him a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, I'm still not the greatest at shuffling them, either. But it's okay, just give it a couple tries to make sure it's shuffled enough for you."

His other attempts were not much more successful, but at least he was fairly sure the cards were properly mixed up at this point. He slid the deck back over to her. "Now what?"

"Now, there's a lot of different kinds of spreads you can use, depending on the question and what you want to know. Let's start with a really, really simple one: the single-card spread. You ask a question, then draw a card and see what turns up. It can be any question! Like... 'will I do well on the next exam,' or 'what should I do with my time today,' or 'what should I get my friend for their birthday?'"

Joker hummed thoughtfully, leaning his elbows against the counter as he stared at the deck. Any question, huh? Well... there were a million serious questions he could ask. The exam question was certainly very tempting, but he had a feeling that would be an obvious answer. "Study hard or perish."

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as a cheeky question flitted across his mind. He picked up his phone and typed it in. "Will I find love?"

Arisato smiled and gave him a nod. "Okay, that works! Now, since this one is easy enough, why don't you draw the card and set it down right here?"

She pointed next to the deck, so Joker dutifully drew a card from the top of the deck and laid it out on the counter in front of him.

And blinked.

It was the Lovers.

Arisato took one look at the card and burst out laughing. "Well, if that isn't the most succinct 'yes' I've ever seen!"

Joker's face felt hot as he sank against the counter. He wasn't expecting such a straightforward response. Honestly he'd been expecting something random, like that five of pentacles. Arisato continued to giggle at his expense for a moment. Once she regained some composure, she reached over and gently tapped the card.

"To be fair, the Lovers card represents more than just, well, lovers," she explained. "It represents a union—of hearts, minds, passions, stuff like that—but it also represents a choice. Pursuing a career versus pursuing love, something old versus something new, excitement versus routine, stuff like that." She flipped the card around towards herself, pursing her lips as she studied it. "It won't be an easy choice. You'll question your values and what you hold most dear. But in the end, you'll come to an understanding—of yourself or the other person, or maybe both. But it'll be an understanding nonetheless."

Joker watched her for a moment, noticing the distant, thoughtful look in her eye. For a moment, he forgot she was only a year older than him. He reached for his bangs and twirled a lock of hair between his fingers, pondering what to say next.

"You sound like you have some experience."

He slid the phone closer to her, sneaking it into her view to catch her attention. She jumped and blinked at the screen, before letting out a self-conscious chuckle.

"You could say that," she said. She glanced back at the card for a moment, sighed, and turned it back to face him. "Ann's the Lovers for you, isn't she? So you've probably already seen a little of it for yourself."

Joker grunted and played with his bangs again. True, he had spent some time getting to know Ann. And spending time with her did seem to involve her having to make some big choices. But... maybe it's just how Ann was, but the choices she made never really seemed too difficult for her. The decision to strengthen her heart never seemed to give her much trouble outside of practical concerns. It didn't seem like any sort of ethical dilemma, or something that made her question everything she thought she knew.

Then again, Ann never struck him as the type for long-winded introspection. Her intuition always seemed to serve as her guide, leading seamlessly from one idea to the next even as she jumped around between them. It was interesting to watch her thought process sometimes.

"So, what did you think of that?" Arisato's question brought him out of his thoughts. He tilted his head and gave her a curious look. "Of the reading, I mean. It was a really basic reading, but does how it works make sense?"

Joker nodded, leaning against the counter again and pulling the phone back towards him. "It seems straightforward enough."

"The larger spreads get more complicated and require a bit more thinking. The one and three card spreads are the easiest and most straightforward. Though most answers probably aren't going to be as blatant as that!"

Joker chuckled. "I wasn't expecting it to be, in all honesty. At least it wasn't something ominous, like Death."

Arisato hummed thoughtfully. "Well, Death in that context might be a little ominous, but not because it means someone is fated to die or something." Joker gave her another curious look and she continued. "Death isn't about dying, it's about transitions and change. While it signifies the end of one thing, it also signifies the beginning of something else. So, in the context of your question..." She trailed off as she thought, idly tapping the deck. "It might mean whatever relationship you're currently in is going to end, but it'll open you up to a new one. Or, you'll only find love after something else in your life ends. Like, maybe you'll have to wait until the end of the year, or until you graduate high school."

Joker sighed dramatically. "But I hate waiting!"

Arisato laughed. "So I've noticed." She shot a meaningful glance towards his bandaged neck. "I guess it's a good thing you didn't end up with the Death card then, huh?"

"Lovers sounds much more hopeful, anyway," Joker typed.

"It does." She gathered up her cards and shuffled the Lovers card back into the deck. "You can keep playing around with them if you want."

Joker shook his head. "I should get back to work. A customer could come in any moment, you know."

"That's true. I won't bother you, then. If you want another lesson, though, just give me a shout!"

Joker nodded, typing a quick thank you before he busied himself with cleaning out the coffee machines. That one lesson did give him a lot to think about, at the very least.

At the back of his mind, a voice whispered the formation of a new bond: an alternate Death arcana. Oh, this should prove to be very interesting indeed.

[lesbianarcana]

Luceo non Uro - Chapter 1

Concilio et Labore (by Wisdom and Effort)

Relationships: Asra/Apprentice

Rating: Mature

| Read on Ao3 |

~

The crowds were rarely avoidable in Vesuvia during the day, especially in the central district, but they were particularly bad at this time of year. Even after sunset when the night market opened to the crowds of the Masquerade, the bustle was almost overwhelming.

Daya ducked and weaved through the throng of people, hopping to and fro across the boards placed above the canal. Her purchase she cradled close to her chest, and the smell of the hot, fresh bread made her stomach rumble. It was her luck that the market was open almost constantly during the days of the Masquerade, if only because it gave her something to do at night. The vendors always made a killing when the Count’s birthday celebrations rolled around, after all. Artisan bakers made cheaper versions of the delicacies served at the palace, tailors sold costumes of chiffon and cheap gold leaf, and winemakers offered tastings of rare imports from Atapra and Milova. A sea of fluttering costumes, glittering baubles and painted masks surrounded her, dazzling her with the colours and patterns of a hundred people. It was enough to be overwhelming. The palace had to be worse, surely…

For a moment Daya glanced wistfully at the stone stairs that wound out of sight, all the way up to the palace. What would it be like to wander the gardens in an elegant costume, she thought, perhaps dancing in a glittering ballroom and eating tiny sandwiches.

“Keep dreaming,” she said out loud, and blushed at the odd look a passing reveler threw her. As if she would ever be invited to the Masquerade--as if she would ever have enough money for fancy dress! And who cared about tiny sandwiches, anyway?

If she dawdled any more the bread would get cold, and the fortune-teller might disappear into the night--not to be seen for another year, maybe more.

The shop was open late for once, the lantern still lit with an iridescent blue flame, and when Daya glanced at the side window she could see the faint, blurred outline of her aunt striding past. But it wasn’t time to go inside. Not yet. She slipped past, shoes padding silently on the cobblestones, and around the back of the building.

To her relief the booth was still there, a hastily constructed thing of a few upturned barrels and a tent poles draped with blue and purple cloths. She’d seen him setting up just after dawn, though the window’s frosted glass turned him into little more than a sunlight-dappled figure. When she’d gone to run errands later that day there had been a line; old men and mothers and a few street urchins shoving and pushing each other. Even though it was after dark the streets were still full of people, but...nobody lingered at the tent now, and the flap was still fastened to allow entry. Daya hesitated a moment, brushed away the shyness that clutched at her chest, and ducked inside.

There was barely any room inside the tent and yet, all she could see of its occupant was a pair of shoulders and a head of fluffy white curls, both illuminated by a central light that hovered above them. Then the drapes fell back with a rustle, throwing the space into darker shadows, and the fortune-teller straightened up. She caught and held his gaze; eyes of purple with delicate white eyelashes.

God, he was young. Barely into adolescence, she realised, about the same age as she. His gaze dropped to the bread in her hands, and Daya blushed.

“Here,” she said, and hastily shoved the bundle at him. “You’ve been working here all day, and I thought you might be--this is from my favourite baker.”

He looked so surprised it was almost comical, and for a moment he just stared down at the wrapped bundle.

“It’s pumpkin bread,” Daya added. “The best in the city. Well, I think so, anyway.”

The fortune-teller unwrapped the linen cautiously. His fingers dug into the loaf, pulling it apart, and the scent of warm spices filled the tent. He closed his eyes, inhaling. A dimple flashed in his cheek.

“It smells amazing,” he said, when he opened his eyes again. “You didn’t have to do that. Thanks.”

“Nonsense,” Daya said, and sat herself on the nearest barrel. “Everyone deserves to eat. Besides, you’ve been bringing customers to the shop. My aunt should be thanking you.”

He placed the bread on the makeshift table between them and began to tear it into smaller pieces. Half of the pieces he wrapped up and tucked away into his bag. He offered her a piece from the remaining half, and began to eat the rest enthusiastically.

“This shop is your aunt’s?” he asked between bites. The bread disappeared at an alarming rate, confirming her suspicion that he hadn’t eaten all day.

Daya shook her head at another proffered piece and swung her legs idly, then started as the barrel wobbled.

“Magic ingredients, potions, spells, and divination,” she said. “She’s been teaching me a few things.”

Her lessons were supposed to have begun an hour ago, but he didn’t need to know that.

The fortune-teller looked at her curiously. “You can do magic?”

“Ah, sort of. I’m still learning.” She watched him pick crumbs off the table, and something like pity stirred in her chest. “What’s your name?”

The flash of a dimple again. “Asra. And yours?”

“Dayana. But you can call me Daya, if you want.”

“Daya,” Asra said, almost to himself.

The scarf at his shoulder rose upwards, and moments later a serpent’s head peeked out. Its tongue flicked, tasting the air, and it looked around with red eyes. Asra appeared completely unsurprised, glancing down and smiling.

“Who’s this?”

Asra lifted one finger to stroke under the snake’s chin. “This is Faust. She’s my familiar.”

“Oh,” Daya sighed, somewhat enviously. “I wish I had a familiar. She’s beautiful.”

Faust yawned widely, slithered down Asra’s shoulder and deposited herself on the table. He looked cautious for a split second as the snake brushed over Daya’s arm, cool and smooth...then visibly relaxed.

“I’m glad you’re not afraid of snakes,” he said by way of explanation. “Some people are. You said you don’t have a familiar?”

“Not yet. I wish.”

“Not every magician finds their familiar right away, but it’ll be worth it once you do.”

Asra brushed the remaining crumbs off the table, then opened his hands. A deck of cards splayed out between his fingers.

“Let me read the cards for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Daya began, pulling the barrel closer, “but if you’re offering, I’ll say yes.”

He smiled. “It’s the least I can do. Do you have a question you want answered?”

Daya shook her head and leaned forward eagerly, hands clasped on the table. She’d seen her aunt read the cards for customers before, and some of her spreads were far more complex than she could hope to create. Most people who came for fortunes, however, preferred the simple three card spreads: past, present, future.

Asra shuffled and cut the deck with practiced ease. Daya watched avidly as he laid out the cards facedown; four in a square and one in the centre.

“An archetype reading,” she noted. “The five aspects of the self. The persona, the shadow, the opposite energies, the heart’s desire.”

“That’s right.” He smiled at her, and flipped the first card. An image of a snake curled around a polished wooden stick. It reminded her of his familiar.

“The Queen of Wands.”

“Yes. A person of focus and passion, drawing others into her orbit.” He smiled. “Or their orbit, if you prefer.”

Daya shrugged. “I don’t care which.”

Asra flipped the second card.

“The Seven of Swords, reversed. The second card, the shadow. A secret shame, or a refusal to acknowledge a situation or a truth. This can represent...running away from a difficulty instead of facing it.” Asra gave her a sly look. “An example would be avoiding magic lessons and having your fortune told instead.”

There was a split second in which they looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

“You got me,” Daya said, grinning widely. “I’m avoiding my aunt right now. I should have known I couldn’t hide from the cards.”

“Not these ones, at any rate.” Asra flipped the third card. “The World. Opportunity, success, and a journey. But in this specific context…” he paused for a moment, hand hovering over the illustration. “A suggestion, to be proud of all you have accomplished thus far.”

Their eyes locked again, and Daya felt a shiver run down her spine.

She wasn’t new to the reading of the cards. Tarot and other divination techniques were part of her lessons: she read runes, bones and tea leaves also. And from time to time, Daya had spent her spare coin on happiness or success readings at some of the other fortune-teller booths found at the central market. Those were for idle curiosity, and the vendors little more than snake oil salesmen. She knew how to spot genuine skill, and Asra had it. Her eyes dropped to the fourth card, and she watched in anticipation as he turned it over.

“The Eight of Pentacles, reversed.” This time he looked up, a mischievous glint in his eye. “A struggle to maintain focus. Do you think the cards are trying to tell you something?”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” she retorted, and he laughed. Deftly he flipped the fifth card...then sat back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“The Fool,” he said after a moment.

"Wow. Rude.”

Asra glanced up at her uncertainly, his white eyebrows quirking. He relaxed when he saw her grin. “You scared me for a second.”

“I’m learning the cards, remember? I know what the Fool means. A cliff’s edge, with limitless potential for the future, if I only make the leap. Am I right?”

“Yes. You have all you need to move forward.”

Daya sat back, mirroring his pose, and watched as he gathered up the cards.

“May I?” she asked into the silence.

Asra paused in the middle of shuffling the deck, and his gaze fell upon her outstretched hand. For a second she thought he would refuse. It was somewhat of an audacious request, if she knew anything about magicians and tarot. But then he smiled and passed the deck over.

“Are you going to practice on me, Daya?” he asked, teasing.

She laughed. “I can try.”

Her fingers closed over the cards-- then a sudden rush of wind extinguished the lantern, throwing the booth into darkness.

It was magic, she realised. Pushing and pulling within her like a tide; rolling over her in a heady rush, tingling and warming under her palms. She gasped involuntarily, squeezing her eyes shut

The light returned moments later, throwing wild, swinging shadows over the booth. Daya drew in quick, ragged breaths.

“Mmhm,” Asra said. He had an air of smug satisfaction about him, as he leaned his chin on one hand. “I thought so.”

She threw him a quizzical look but he said nothing further, so with a shrug she began to shuffle.

“Past, present and future,” she said, and let the cards flow through her hands. She could almost hear her aunt’s voice.

Relax. Empty your mind and let the cards speak to you in the silence.

She’d had trouble reading the cards most days, but this deck...this deck was special. How else could it have reacted to her magic?

Daya drew three cards, face down, and chose the far left. The Five of Cups.

“You had a great loss, many years ago,” she said tentatively.

A flicker of pale eyelashes; otherwise no reaction from him.

“Someone who was important, and sometimes, it seems as if pain is all you will ever know or feel.” The words came unbidden, drawn from her mouth in a whisper. “Sometimes...it’s easier to keep hurting, because hurting is infinitely less terrifying than feeling nothing at all. Hurting means the loss meant something. It made them real, and it keeps them alive, in a way.”

Asra said nothing. Embarrassed, Daya swiped at her eyes and let go of the card. “I’m sorry. That was totally inappropriate. Um...should I continue?”

A soft, tentative reply. “Please.”

Turning the second card took more courage than she cared to admit. The Magician stared up at her in the form of a fox, a small smile playing around its mouth.

“The Magician,” she said, and Asra’s eyebrows rose. “For your present.” Daya tapped her chin with one finger and closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. “You’re...performing an act of creation, shaping something from nothing. A place of pure magic, created from and shaped by your willpower.”

Asra’s eyes widened. “Huh.”

“I know...I’m not making much sense, I’m sorry. I still have trouble with my focus, as the cards pointed out.” She turned over the third card. “The Hermit, reversed.”

This time the words were easier to hold on to.

“The Hermit implies solitude, even when upright...reversed, it represents a deliberate isolation. A withdrawal from the world.” Frowning, she glanced up at him. “If you aren’t careful, you could lose your connections to this world...or fail to form new ones.”

Asra was silent for a long moment, staring thoughtfully at the cards laid out before him. Then he smiled. There was no hint of mischief in his expression, only interest.

“I thought you might have the skill for tarot,” he said, “and I was right. You’re the real deal.”

Daya opened her mouth to reply--then the slap of feet on cobblestones made her pause. More and more footsteps; some hurried and some leisurely. The sound of flutes floated from around the corner, clear and high and melodic. Voices growing louder.

Curiosity drew her up, and she peeked outside. Asra had picked a good spot for fortune-telling, that was for sure--the booth opened up to the wider part of the street, giving them a good view of the marketplace. Her skin prickled as she felt Asra’s presence at her shoulder.

“Look,” he said, pointing. She followed his gaze to a glittering carriage making its way past, headed for the town square.

“Fancy,” Daya mused. “Do you think it’s the Count? I’ve never seen him before.”

“The Count?” Asra said. “I don’t think so..”

There was a strange note in his voice she couldn’t quite pick out, but then he brushed past her and she promptly forgot in her curiosity. She followed him out into the street and joined the crowd gathering to watch.

The carriage was close now; close enough to snatch glimpses of its passenger. A cascade of violet curls. Brown skin. A long nose and elegant fingers. Red eyes.

“She looks like a noble,” Daya murmured, and Asra hummed beside her. “I wonder who she is.”

“Dayana!”

The sharp, rich voice rang over the mutter of the crowds. Daya blushed violently as several people turned to look at her, then above--to the woman leaning over the balcony.

“Ah, it seems I’ve been caught.”

Asra laughed.

A little awkwardness settled over them as they turned back to face each other. A few moments of silence, then Daya finally spoke.

“Same time next year?”

Asra laughed again, quieter this time. “Who can say?”

“Even if I don’t see you...” she offered her hand, and he took it. “Thank you, Asra. I’ll take your advice if you do the same for me.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Dayana!”

“Coming!” Daya called, and let go of his hand. An awkward smile, one more glance and he disappeared back inside the tent. The flap unfastened and fell over the entrance, and the light went out.

She went back to the shopfront, extinguished the lantern with a snap of her fingers and turned back to watch the carriage disappear around the corner. The last thought before she crossed the threshold was of purple eyes reflecting the lantern light, and a strange feeling in her chest that could have been intuition.

It wouldn’t be the last time she saw Asra, though--she was certain of that.

[stratosphcre-blog]

By God was it a struggle trying to decide between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. I went with the second option because red hair. Daehyun gives me enough angst, so Jaegeun is here to counteract all that salt with his sugary self ! A brand new muse, so I’m still working out the kinks but ??? He’s inspired by Sybill Trelawney, ,  Xenophilius Lovegood & Rita Skeeter. Mainly good ol’ Syb and Rita. This is why I came so close to putting him in Ravenclaw ??? But I felt like he’d end up turning into such a snake ??? Let me stop. So, I’ve written some info on him down below and so smash that HEART (  ♡  ) if you’d like to plot !!!

☆ﾟ*・ﾟHEY! did JUNG HOSEOK just fall off HIS broomstick?! oh wait, never mind. it’s just JAEGEUN “JASON” SONG… to think i nearly broke a sweat over the 20 year old EIGHTH year GRYFFINDOR. i hear the MALE is quite AFFECTIONATE and ENTHUSIASTIC , but also FOOLHARDY and IMPRESSIONABLE . well, i hope their broom doesn’t throw them off the second time. ( effy, cst, she/her, 23 ) 

BACKSTORY

A pureblood wizard who was raised by two parents who were absolutely astonished by any and all things muggle-related. Needless to say, he was raised by very open parents who could not care less about the blood status and raised him to not judge others by it either. He’s a really good son and person so, of course, he listened intently and really just loves everyone.

Knows a lot about muggle technology because his father brought things home and he was raised in a muggle neighborhoods; his dad really was that shook and amazed by vacuums and bicycles. His mom was less taken by muggle things, but only because using magic is so much easier? Other than that, very delighted. She’s just not going to use a vacuum. And the last time she cooked without magic? Everyone complained so she’s not doing that again either.

Jaegeun has a little sister who is a sixth or seventh year, hmu if you want to fill that connection ???

He’s moved around a couple of times, but his family has always stayed located in Scotland. He belongs to one of those families that likes to move around, which is fine because they are witches and wizards and getting around is quick and easy.

Has attended Hogwarts from his first year and onward. Was sorted into Gryffindor, but the Sorting Hat thought about making him a Hufflepuff.

Was picked on because he dressed weird. Like, really weird. People said mean things about his clothes, but this boy? Probably thought they were compliments and thanked his bullies.

Also believes in a lot of conspiracies and probably thinks some of his friends are part veela/vampire or a werewolf. Often gets in debates with ghosts over stupid things, but it’s whatever. Stupidly brave, wants to meet a giant and thinks merpeople are swell and would like to go swimming them. He can’t even swim.

If he’s dared, he’ll take it and won’t back down.

Loves quidditch. So much. Which is why he joined the team and why he cries when his team loses.

HE HAS A TOAD NAMED DOT. Don’t insult her, he gets super sad when people think toads are lame and cats and owls are better. He really likes his toad and has pride when he shows her off.

Actually a stickler for rules, but easily swayed to break them. “I don’t know if we should be doing this D:” whilst following along anyway. Like, HE’S A GOOD BOY. But he’s excitable and curious and doesn’t like being left out so he kinda has to follow.

People think he’s a dumbass but he’s not. He pulls in really good grades and is only doing poor in a few classes. Unfortunately, he’s not a genius and actually does have to study hard. But he’s okay with that !!!

Okay, but on the real ? Divination is his class. He thinks he’s a Seer ( might be, who knows ) and is probably most famous and popular for his tarot card readings. He’s kind of a go-to when someone’s having relationship problems, but honestly ??? He’s not always right ??? So be CAREFUL. Big into astrology and horoscopes as well, it’s his thing.

. . . Writes for the school newspaper and please if you have an important secret say “off the record” otherwise he thinks it’s free game and will  probably right about it. Without meaning to, he causes a lot of drama. Luckily, most people think he’s weird and dumb and don’t bother to read his sections. It makes him sad !!!

PERSONALITY

An absolute sweetheart. Smiles & laughter & and non-stop talking. Like, this boy can and will talk your ears off if allowed. He cares a lot about others and is a mom-friend who will fuss over others wellbeing and worries a lot. A real bro, will totally take a bullet for a friend.

LOVES PEOPLE. But he’s not a pushover, he’s a Gryffindor for a reason. Buck up to him, try to intimidate him ??? Half the time he’s probably not even aware, too busy looking for snufakisses. The other half ??? He’ll square up. He’ll try to talk the situation down, but he’s not going to just sit there and take it. DON’T BULLY HIS FRIENDS. Will get dirt on your ass and expose you.

ACCIDENTALLY STARTS RUMORS. Swear he doesn’t mean to, but he’s a blabbermouth and he ... kind of really wants to write juicy shit. And if you’re not is friend, he doesn’t see a problem with putting it in papers. Unfortunately, a gossiper. Careful with his close friends, but people are able to coax it out of him. He knows a lot, it’s his job as a “journalist”, so he probably has dirt on a lot of people.

You want that dirt? Get him drunk. Can’t shut up. Knows he should, but just can’t.

BUT HE’S A GOOD FRIEND. Like, he wouldn’t reveal something huge or anything someone is confiding in him. He’s not horrible, it’s just those tiny, juicy tidbits of who can’t stand who or who was making out with who in this or that empty classroom. IT’S EXCITING.

Has a hard time telling people no. Like, if someone asks him out and he doesn’t like them that way ??? He’s going out with them just so he doesn’t hurt their feelings. Probably hurts them in the long run, but he doesn’t want to hurt friends. :c

Ridiculously complimentary and affectionate. Is he flirting? Probably not, he’s just gonna tell you if he thinks you look cute. He’s being nice, but he’s accidentally lead people on before and he feels bad for that, r i p.

CONNECTIONS ???

HIS LITTLE SISTER. That’s a wanted connection.

Friends??? Doesn’t matter the house, if he gets along with you he’s happy!

Exes? Those he dated because he felt bad, those he actually liked ??? Honestly, he has a hard time committing because he’s kind of superficial and it ain’t that deep. So he’s dated a lot, but probably ended with, uh, “we’re better off as friends.” BUT WHEN HE’S IN DEEP, HE’S IN DEEP AND HIS HEART BREAKS. Like, he cries but he hates losing people so if they want to stay friends, he’ll suffer inwardly and be their friend still. Hurts to see them happy with someone else, though. :c

ENEMIES. He’s spread gossip and they’re upset over it ??? They bully him but he doesn’t really get it, still he can tell they’re not nice so he’s just :/ ??? Someone he actually wants to fight how did this happen who knows but it did ???

CRUSHES. Like I said, he’s superficial so he gets crushes easily. Or those crushing on him ??? Bless their souls, he’s clueless and won’t know unless it’s spelled out for him. “JAEGEUN, I LIKE YOU!!!” “Oh my God, I like you too! You’re such a good friend! :D” An intellectual dumbass. Is he getting gifts from someone? “Wow, they’re so nice! This is unexpected and out of the blue! :D

d o n ‘ t flirt with him. he does not get it, will not get it. will just be like, “wow! you think my eyes are nice? that’s so thoughtful to say! :D” “wow! you’re the only ten i see? that’s a great pun! :D”

SQUAD !!! people he’s really close to ??? 

Halloween Event buddies he’s got nothing going on, so if someone needs a costume buddy let me know he’ll dress as something cool, sexy or dumb as fuck. 

[rosaofswords]

Year Ahead Spread Update - July 2018 ft. the Little Monsters

Year Card: The Fool July Card: Ace of Swords/Arrows (Bonus card: Page of Swords/Child of Arrows)

Update is under the cut because it’s long and real personal.

So, I ended June with a comment about cutting my hair in July because of the Ace of Swords... which I did not do. I was all set to get an appointment when reminders of my Grandpa started cropping up everywhere and I always remember him telling me how pretty my hair was the one summer I let it grow out in high school. So. It’s even longer now. Big love Gpa. 

The Little Monsters Tarot was actually only in my rotation for one week in July, but the impact it had on me was pretty extreme. In the deck interview it spoke really clearly about being good for inner child work. (I believe the first card in the spread was the Child of Cups, which literally has inner child stuff mentioned in the book.) Back in June I had actually been nudged towards some inner child exploration by my mental health team, but I was finding it hard to follow through as prescribed... so I took this as a mental nudge to find a method that does work for me. 

Mentor Readings have been as staple of my personal practice since sometime towards the beginning of this blog. Once a week (Monday, usually) I pick a new card that has something to teach me. Each day I shuffle my mentor back into my deck and then find the two cards around them for my message. Generally, these tend to be as the word mentor implies: the card is a teacher, they have something to tell me.

What I did for inner child work was a variation on this theme. I asked my deck to, instead of offering me a guide, give me a card for my inner child. The card that came up was the Child of Arrows and I immediately started crying. (There’s been a lot of crying this month.) The monster on the card looks curious and adorable, but also (to me) hesitant and/or tentative. 

My head went to Anne de Vernase, who was described as “the child of my mind” by her father, in the Collegia Magica series. This is a character that has struck a strong chord with me due to her curiosity, but also her social reluctance and her fear of her own powers. 

The guidebook for this deck doesn’t talk much about reluctance, it talks more about someone who loves knowledge. An insatiable curiosity, someone who sometimes flits between the latest “shiny things” to catch their interest. (Which is also very me.) And while the description was very loving, it had an edge. It was easy to see how this character, this child, could be a nuisance. (The word nuisance was even used to describe them, when unguided and left to their own devices.) It’s easy to see how this sort of child can be shut down by others and their inquisitive nature forced to the background.

The struggle I have been focusing on, which brought me to inner child work, is my voice. I am often told that I am not loud enough, especially in professional settings, and my voice teacher is often letting me know that “there’s still something tight,” physically, despite really good progress. Finding more freedom with my voice means going back to why I pull it back to begin with. So... see above. 

But this is not the Ace of Swords/Arrows-- or is it? Aces and Pages are very similar, I think, they just focus on different aspects. Both are often seen as the beginning of a journey. The Child/Page is the current player on the stage (my inner child, in this case) and the Ace is the action with which to address this journey. 

I associate the Ace of Swords with personal truth. It’s not as exact, nor its reach as broad, as Justice, but it is about parting with the lies. It’s systematically going through the things my inner child soaked in and still holds to and asking “Is this true?” and if it isn’t, “what is the truth?” 

Which, you know, sounds suspiciously like the words I was asked to use in therapy with my inner child to begin with. The cards just gave me a way to frame it so I could work with it more easily. Each day, the Child either brought me something they’d been told about themselves or something they needed to hear. I wrote at least a full page of loving, truthful conversation with them. 

And, when the week was up, I was emotionally exhausted but so much better for it. I went back to my usual mentors with a deck I could just default to Smith-Waite meanings on and finished out the month. But I kept the lessons with me, and next time I need to talk to a part of myself- be it inner child, higher self, or some of my shadows, I have a new mental tool to use. Which, really, isn’t that what a sword is supposed to be in tarot? A mental tool?

Anyways, it’s August now and I am starting my journey with the Two of Wands, which is actually my stalker card from last August. (I went back and checked my journal, just to be sure, and there is literally an index for every time it showed up because it was so frequent.) I’m excited to see where this takes me! 

[inspired-wiccan]

My First Tarot Deck

I was already well aware of the fact that I had absolutely no knowledge of Tarot whatsoever, except that my mother is terrified of them. She always told me that they will attract demons to me, and bad things will happen and it bring nothing but bad luck. 

In my mother’s experience, she knew someone who had worked with and read Tarot cards. Her own mother. My mom told me about her a lot seeing as I never got to meet her. My mother was an orphan by the age of 12 so I obviously never was even a thought by the time they passed. 

Anyways, my mom told me that she read Tarot cards and that she predicted things that actually happened. My mother has 3 sisters and 2 brothers. The three older sisters ended up being all pregnant around the same time. My grandmother predicted that, along with the sex of the babies accurately for her three older daughters. She had also predicted the accident my uncle got in while stationed in Japan during his time in the military. He lived but became paralyzed from the waist-down. She also knew how her husband and herself died. All these things she said would happen, happened. I’m not really convinced she read that in the cards to be honest. I have a feeling she may have had some sort of a gift, and maybe the Tarot cards helped at best. I also wonder if she was also secretly pagan while the rest of the family was catholic. Of course I will never know, and that’s okay. It just a very comforting thought. In her honor I also plan to change my last name to hers. 

So honestly, my thoughts on all of this were conflicting at first. When I grabbed the Tarot book off the shelf in the store, I read about what they really are. I researched online people’s thoughts and opinions, and beginner knowledge and read plenty articles written by people like me. The ones who were once in my shoes. I had heard mixed feelings about buying your own tarot deck. I figured I have nobody in the world that knows me and knows that I have begun this path. I’m unsure if I plan to tell my family or not. So I doubt I was going to be gifted a Tarot deck by anyone. I had no choice but to buy my own. And so far that has worked for me. 

Before I did anything with the cards I read about them. I felt like I read enough to give them a try. So I asked my question. I don’t remember exactly what I asked because I didn’t write it down. But I have a photo of the first cards I got from it. I did a three card spread and got: Princess of Swords, Seven of Wands, and XXI - The World.

I had no idea what to do with these. I read that it helps to study the photo and memorize it to the point you can close your eyes and picture it exactly. And so I did exactly that and it did not help at all. So I went to the book to see its meanings. I interpreted it as my interview would go well and that things are going to get financially better. 

So the next day I went on my interview and it went incredibly well. I was hired on the spot and I would be making my own schedule and have an hourly pay of $4 more than my higher paying job and $5 more than my lower paying job. I am working two jobs and going to school full time. No days off. Ever. But that is all going to change. I will be making more money at a job that suits my lifestyle better. Throughout that day I had received several compliments by people I had near me. People I didn’t know went out of their way to come up to me to tell me how nice my shoes were or they loved my dress. It was a great feeling. Shortly before work I had gone to dunkin donuts to get myself some apple cider. I ordered and paid for a small but they accidentally made me a large instead. What an amazing day I had.

The next day I had told my friend on campus about my adventure into learning to read Tarot. For some reason he had brought it up. Honestly now that I am writing about it I wonder if he saw the book in my backpack. Regardless he asked if I could read them for him. I said sure. I figured I would do what I did for myself. 

That did not work out.

I know some people don’t want other people touching their cards but I feel like the reading would be more accurate if the cards had their own energy. So I had him think about his question and shuffle the cards. Then I laid them out and told him to pick three and put them in order from left to right. I don’t remember which cards he picked because again, I didn’t write it down. I read out loud to him the full description of the meanings of the cards and my answer to him is he will is on the right path for school. Later I felt like it probably wasn’t accurate. I have a feeling I know what his question was though I can’t be certain. And if it was what I thought it was then my answer made absolutely no sense whatsoever. So I messaged him and asked if it made sense to him. Sure enough it did not. I asked him if I could try reading for him again once I have a better idea of what I’m doing and he said absolutely. 

It made me the happiest to find out someone in my actual daily life who would support me and do their best to help me on my journey. It gave me the courage to tell one other person, which was my best friend in the world. She has known me for going on over 10 years already. We’ve been best friends ever since we met. She got a text telling her briefly the new things in my life sine I hadn’t seen her in a little while and her response was nothing short of my expectations. She said of course she would support me and love me and that as long as I’m safe and happy she is too. 

The next person to tell is going to be my boyfriend. I’m unsure of his reaction because he likes to find how how he can prove that things like this are wrong. Not the belief part but the things we do. Reiki is something he doesn’t believe has any sort of healing power and thinks is complete nonsense. Which is fine for him to believe but not okay for him to push onto me. Update on that conversation in the next few days. 

So I know I can’t remember shit so I began to keep a log about the questions I ask and the cards I pull. My first written down experience was wonderful. I got so much more out of the reading. Instead of simply memorizing the look of the card, I looked at the scene before me and wrote down what I see. If I see a man in bed with his head in his hands, it seems like he is conflicted about something or mentally struggling with whatever is going on in his head. And I felt that it fit my situation with the question i had asked. The book seemed to tell me roughly what I had grasped from the image. I felt amazing. I had successfully read my Tarot cards. At this time I have written in my book for it twice. Both times were great. Hopefully soon I can give my friend another attempt at reading. 

So the deck I have are in a purple silk drawstring bag along with some amethyst. The crystal helps with visualization and enhances psychic abilities. I store them in the bag with the cards as a way of protecting the cards from negative energy and cleansing them at the same time.

Blessed be friends, I hope this was helpful. 

[mwtarotscopes]

TAROTSCOPES for the NEW MOON in LEO

WELCOME BACK WANDERERS OF THE ASTRAL PLAIN! Eclipse season has begun! The first one will be a Lunar Eclipse August 7th! Stay tuned!

NEWS

A Tarotscopes horoscope is located on the back of the menu at Dimes in NYC !  It will change monthly so consider making Dimes a regular pit stop for food and fortunes.

As always, please don't hesitate to contact me for an appointment if you have any burning questions, spiritual, metaphysical or metaphorical knots to untangle.  

THANKS TO ALL ALWAYS AND ALL WAYS FOR READING AND SPREADING TAROTSCOPES!!

new moon in the sign of the lion, eggs on concrete frying, sitting and sighing, outloud crying, fear of flying, im buying, no lying, sun mars and moon, see you real soon, sing a new tune, wet fingers prune, high noon, zoom zoom, plenty of room, sweep of the broom, last flower to bloom, fit like a glove, stars above, all my love, 

                                                  --MW

Without further ado! The card for the NEW MOON, pulled from Amy von Harrington’s deck...

 QUEEN OF WANDS

You would think that being a Leo myself would make it somewhat easier to write about this New Moon, also in the sign of Leo. In fact, the opposite is true. It’s kind of like not being able to scratch your own back, you need someone else or a tool to reach the parts of you you can’t. Astrology and tarot can be back-scratchers, hopefully this post will also satisfy an itch. 

The card I’ve pulled for the New Moon in Leo is the Queen of Wands. In the Rider-Waite she is depicted with a black cat, a nod to her witchy ways. She represents someone bold and charismatic, who gets what she wants one way or another (by use of magic?). The Queen of Wands emphasizes the Moon’s conjunction with Mars, part of what kindles her drive (Mars) is the desire to be known and understood (Leo). 

The New Moon, exact at 2:46 Sunday Morning on the west coast, will occur at 0 degrees of Leo. This is the very beginning of the sign, the starting gate, like seeing the first rays of sunlight toasting the horizon knowing the day is about to pop. Leo is also the sign of children and play. It is the age at which you first begin to develop an awareness of self. If you go back and dig up some of your early drawings you might be surprised by how much those images still resonate with who you are today. Most of my childhood drawings and accompanying stories carried some sort of lesson like: There was a haunted house and everyone knew it was haunted, but the family moved in anyway so they all died because of the “evel sprat” (evil spirit). The moral of the story? Just because you don’t believe in it doesn’t mean it can’t kill you and/or don’t disregard your intuition. I’m still interested in the lessons life has to offer and writing about them and I am still someone who believes in the power of intuition- this much hasn’t changed. On a cellular level, however, I am a completely different person and in many other ways I feel very different from the 7 year old who refused to brush her hair. The traits we think of as fundamental to who we are have been proven by researchers to be quite changeable. Environment and circumstance have more to do with the ways in which we express ourselves than what we have been taught. 

When I was 8 there was a shooting at the University in my town. A graduate student of physics and astronomy shot and killed 6 people including himself and permanently injured one. He was an international student from China, studying at the University on a temporary visa. He was upset because he had not received a prestigious award for his dissertation. He thought the award would ensure that he would be able to get a job and stay in the U.S. Recently I was discussing this incident with my dad and he told me that what was interesting to him about this tragedy was the different ways the shooter was portrayed by American and Chinese medias. The American press tended to describe him as someone who was mentally unstable and “a loner,” while the Chinese media chose to focus on his situation- being far from home, isolated from his family and community and under an incredible amount of pressure. Did he commit this atrocity because of “who he was” or was it a result of his environment?

The 23 year old woman, the sole survivor of the incident, who was shot and paralyzed from the neck down continued to be a dedicated activist throughout her life, in some ways in spite of the incident and in other ways as a result of it.  

The New Moon joins Mars in squaring Uranus, highlighting the tensions between the self independent of environment and the self as a direct result of environment, circumstance and incident. The New Moon raises questions such as: Who are we fundamentally and how do we express ourselves? Who are weand how do we express ourselves independent of situation and environment? And who are we and how do we express ourselves as a direct result of circumstance and environment? 

(Planet Caravan- Black Sabbath)