Showing posts with label page of cups. Show all posts
Showing posts with label page of cups. Show all posts

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Good/Bad/Frustrating News

Well, it looks like Smiley stopped killing in Champaign entirely after offing Tara's roommate. That's the good news.

The bad news is, it's on the East Coast. Again. And I'm sill on the West, figuring out how to get across the country.

And now the frustrating news.

Penny and Tara--aka the blind girl and the girl who cannot correctly hold a weapon to save her life--are headed there, rather than waiting for me. She's giving up on her fucking school to do this.

I mean, I expected this sort of bullshit from Penny because as far as I can fucking tell she gets off on infuriating me, but Tara? Okay, yes, I expect this sort of bullshit from Tara because she never fucking believes me when I tell her something is too dangerous or too stupid. The safe option is to let me take care of it. Like I always do.

What the fuck are you going to do, Tara? Study the Smiling Man to death?

Also, Penny said something about her "cards shifting" and the "Cups and Pentacles replacing Swords betwixt the Lovers and the Devil", or whatever the fuck that and all of her other seer bullshit is. The last "reading" she did with major arcana? It turned out to be about the fucking Slender Man. And a fucking crazy ass proxy version of someone we used to know. This one has the Devil? I'll let you do the fucking math, people.

But no, don't wait for the one who can fucking fight. Have the scholar and the blind fucking fortune teller go. That'll turn out really fucking well.

Oh? And extra frustrating? When I leave, Chelsea, as the Page is calling herself (Jesus Christ this is a weird family), wants to come with me. The only tempting part about this is I think this would really piss Penny off.

Back to trying to find affordable trains. You know, before Penny and Tara get themselves Fearmurdered.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

So

It's my birthday apparently.

Woo-fucking-hoo. Nineteen years old.

I feel so fucking special.

Anyway, Page is pretty cool. We've hung out a bit while I'm weighing my options on how to get back to Illinois.

Apparently Penny and Tara are getting along pretty well, too. Turns out she really is CarrionPrincess, so I guess they know each other.

Tara says she isn't but I'm pretty sure she's trying to find Smiley without me. Penny says she isn't either, but I'm pretty sure she goes with Tara. Also, I'm pretty sure Penny's helping her just to enrage me.

So, anyway, happy fucking birthday to me.

Maybe I'll get a laser for it.

Fucking lasers. Jesus Christ.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

I'm Not Sure What Just Happened

Start at the beginning. Right.

Last night I had a really fucking weird dream.

I was in this field of flowers, right? This field of endless flowers, flowers as far as the eye could see, filling the horizon in every fucking direction, and not just one type. Every type, roses, aconite, hydrangea, morning glory, lilacs, lilies, orchids, tulips, poppies, and on and on and on, covering all of the land, every square fucking inch of it. They filled the air, too. Petals floated in the breeze, blocking out the sun, choking out the sky. Every breath was saturated with pollen, almost more pollen than oxygen, choking me, sending me into nigh-fucking-constant sneezing fits. The pollen filled my eyes, too, making them itch and constantly fucking tear up.

And there was another smell, too. Just under the pollen was the potent smell of decay. Of wet rot and putrid flesh, only the overpoweringly sweet smell of flowers keeping that from make me sick too.

But the worst part was the rustling.

All around me was the rustling of leaves, the sounds of something moving through the flowers--every fucking flower--everywhere, all at once, a goddamn motherfucking cacophony of constant, quiet, disorienting noises. Part of me wanted to know what was making the sound...but I never checked.

I stumbled through the field for God knows how fucking long when I found someone else, stumbling in the other direction, her hands oustretched, each step she was taking being exceptionally careful, her eyes glassy and unfocused (and, in retrospect, probably actual glass), and I recognized the slight brunette young woman almost immediately as Miss Punchable, from my other dreams, aka probably Penny Balisong, the Queen of Cups.

I wanted to say something to her, wanted to get her attention, but before I could talk to her/punch her, I felt the sun on the back of my neck, and I turned towards it and saw...

And then I woke up in a bed that wasn't mine.

I'm not entirely sure I was asleep at all, either. My eyes still itch and my nose is stuffed up.

I could dance around the issue, but fuck that:

Penny and I have switched places. Her Page has confirmed this (also, I scared her half to fucking death when I was trying to get my bearings, but she seems...bizarrely cool with all of this). I'm not sure how this happened, but the fact of the matter is I am now in Los Angeles and Penny is in Champaign.

She's asked that I don't use her or her sister's real names. For whatever fucking reason, it doesn't matter. She doesn't know what's going on, either. All she remembers is wandering through somewhere with overpowering sound and smells, and then finding herself in my cot with no idea of how she got there.

Tara and her are going to look into it while I see if I can't find a way to get back to Champaign...or at least see if there's something to do out here while I wait.