3 Jan 2025, 12:44
Tarot Cards—Phoney or Not?
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————————————————— ཐི༏ཋྀ —————————————————JANUARY 11TH • 00:28 • TRANSFIGURATION COURTYARD, GROUNDS
INTERACTING WITH: @Sandy Thompson
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| xxxxxx | It stopped snowing once the clock hands struck noon. The Clock Tower ring its bell every noon to indicate that it's lunchtime. After eating her lunch, Aurelia Valentine exited the Entrance Hall with a purpose. Glad that it stopped snowing, she approached the water fountain that is located in the middle of Transfiguration Courtyard. Winter boots crunched the snow beneath her feet as the courtyard looked pristine white as they come in winter. Setting her leather satchel down, Aurelia settled down in front of the base of the water fountain, crouching. Fumbling inside her coat pockets, she took out a fancy case. Fancy case of tarot cards she bought from the black market of the school (in an incredulously high price, as fancy as its case). Aurelia doesn't believe in these things. However, she remembered Professor Starwise’s words in their first lesson that it became a rule during Astronomy class. Respect sensitive subjects. As Astronomy also branched towards Divination, then the subject might not be phoney after all. Summoning her open-mindedness, the young badger went out to buy tarot cards and study them. First of all, this is such a pretty case. There's an emerald in the middle of the case, and it is recommended to cleanse the stone so the tarot cards will be cleansed themselves. Sounds rubbish, but that's how the seller had instructed. She didn't even know what that meant. Is it meant to be washed? Do tarot cards need to be dirty to conduct accurate predictions? When in doubt, consult the library. Time and time again, Aurelia will always complain about how a library, as massive as the Hogwarts Library, is not exactly catalogued. What did they expect, one will browse through thousands and thousands of rows of bookshelves to be able to answer some questions? Rubbish. Not everyone has the time for that. Searching for Magical Creatures and Beasts sections of the library had been a feat and it took her 30 minutes to find it, what more with Divination sections? Classes had already started and academic work is piling up, that's why W.H.I.P. has come to a halt for the meantime.
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xxxxxx |
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[ the golden girl; the harshness of such warm light ]
[ aurelia valentine, the golden girl ] † [ lucien de montfort, the deranged artist ]
Visit Lourine's SMITTEN shop for handmade pfps with DISCOUNT—FREE for AI pfp users.
[ aurelia valentine, the golden girl ] † [ lucien de montfort, the deranged artist ]
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24 Jan 2025, 04:17
Tarot Cards—Phoney or Not?
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⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ | Sorry for the wait :< | ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
1:24 ───────────────────────●────────────────────────── -2:56
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
In every timeline, whatever alternate dimensions and lives she has, Sandy is one hundred percent certain she slips on snow-covered ice and cracks her ass in each.
For majority of her day, it had been relatively peaceful. The occasional run in with a friend or two, taking in mind-numbingly boring material that she was bound to fall asleep over, and fussing over her appearance more than once. Nothing had ever been particularly out of place, tousled to hell and back, but there was this constant nagging that throughout all the near slips and very common trips of palms against ground everything had gotten messed up. Aside from her glasses, the left lens cracked to absurd lengths and yet kept in place by clear tape that hindered her vision more than it repaired it, everything was perfect.
She was lying, of course. Sandy always lied about how she looked. There was no way her hair wasn't at least a bit unkempt from the almost constant sheets of ice below snow. Most times, the snow of all things was the problem! It was insane, infuriating to no lengths, and yet there was no amount of cursing the ground that would bring back feeling to her ass.
With hands tightly shoved in the pockets of her jacket - a rather oversized, rundown thing with various pink patches on the sleeves to contrast the black of it - Sandy trudges around. There's nothing quite particular for her to do, and as a herding dog without a proper job would do, she finds herself scouting out for anything to shoehorn herself into. Someone to spot, really, a familiar face.
Sandy doesn't find a familiar face, though. Instead, she finds a stranger, and a very focused one at that. Every direction of corpse-walking runs dry quickly after, resuming new purpose with the intention of making new friends. She had already embarrassed herself more than ever with quite literally everyone else, so pushing through the dread of social interaction to appear an average person is the right direction.
Steps heavy, crunching against newly fallen snow, she internally debates an interaction. Hi, I know you look like superrr busy, but maybe I can be of assistance? No, too stuck up. Sorry to interrupt, you just-
No, no, no! Horrible, all horrible. With hardly even ten steps away from this stranger, Sandy had met a dead end in human communication. Even entirely present in the moment, mind working overdrive, it felt like her body was in full control. It was like bullriding, trying to direct an obviously deadset animal into a calmer territory, preferably one that didn't include making a fool of herself because she hadn't planned an introduction nor starter point of a conversation in time. Still, her body lurched to a stop about two-ish steps away, leaning over momentarily to squint at the cards.
As though a message sent from the Gods, something to revamp her prey animal instincts and rejuvenate her attempt at communication, a strike of knowledge forced through to the front of her brain. Nothing but silence moves past her lips as she runs her tongue along the back of her teeth, skimming the display.
"Tarot." She mumbles, head tilted to the side, "My brother talks a lot about this stuff. One- One of my uncles likes to say it's a sham, but they can have some... Pretty good insight. In my opinion." Sandy ends her quiet comment, one hand outstretching from the former confines of a warm pocket to pick up a card. She holds it carefully between her index and her thumb, humming. Four cups, the four of cups, obviously.
The silence returns with a vengeance, teeth lightly gnawing at the inside of her lip. Discontent, greed. Ignoring an offer, closed off to the growth and gifts around. It's awfully ironic, given what she believed was entirely a false accusation towards herself. Sandy was not closed off, about as closed as a mesh door to a knife, and yet these cards had the audacity to make a mockery of her in front of a new person. No wonder Frazier liked them so much, they certainly had a knack for making her overthink and displace any confidence she had.
"...Four of cups. This one means... Well, a lot of things. Um, but the figure is like, disconnected. Taking things for granted I guess, not really realizing the offers and things around? It... Usually means that you need to, um, not do what this card is doing. It's like, basically telling you to figure your stuff out." Sandy's words are slow, fingers rubbing the card for comfort. From how uncertain the girl looked, it was almost impossible to be true. The cards weren't cleansed, they didn't have positive energy directed. It was like telling a demon to do something good and expecting only that.
She then pointed down at the stranger's card, shaky hands making a prominent appearance, "This one means impulsiveness, kinda. It's mostly up to interpretation of the reader. Do you have a goal in mind? Something that you're like, really looking forward to? That might be the reference. You might be trying to rush into something that you're not entirely prepared for. Like, a knight rushing in to battle."
2:50 ────────────────────────────────────────────────●─ -2:56
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
INTERACTING: @Aurelia Valentine
10 Feb 2025, 23:18
Tarot Cards—Phoney or Not?
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ISSUE №. 002 |
?????????????????? | 𝔇𝔄ℑ𝔏𝔜????? 𝔑𝔈𝔚𝔖 |
????????? | FIVE KNUTS DAILY EDITION |
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JANUARY 11TH, SATURDAY |
12:34 |
TRANSFIGURATION COURTYARD, HOGWARTS GROUNDS |
@Sandy Thompson |
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HEADLINES:
SANDY THOMPSON IS A VAGUE INTERPRETER
SANDY THOMPSON IS A VAGUE INTERPRETER
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| ?????? |
Lips pursed, Aurelia tilted her head slightly in utter confusion, her long, messy curls cascading unceremoniously down her back. No, it must be more profound than the silliness she just conjured from the confines of her brilliant mind. Going to a war? They are not in the middle of trying times—or how old historians adored to depict such wars that have happened all throughout the times—a devastating, darkest time in history that is recorded. Her deep brown eyes scoured the tarot cards laid on the stone base of the fountain, her fingers pushing other cards to make it appear more spread out before bringing her index fingers to both of her temples; her gaze might as well be burning the said cards, as though expecting the items to transport their meaning into her brain. This is such a stupid endeavour, if Aurelia could say so herself. As an anxious person herself, predicting the future is such a promising offer. The young badger despised uncertainty so much, which led to her planning everything almost all of her life. Down to her small tasks to her long-term plans, it is all written down. Unforeseeable circumstances had been her strongest enemy, which caused her to cower and isolate sometimes. She is not looking forward to such uncertainties, and if she could, she would have placed multiple locks on her world and immediately swallowed the keys. This is how she would have liked to repel sudden change or dubiety. Apparently, it is such a deep hate that she is willing to resort to studying tarot cards. Which is proving to be such a fraud. The young Hufflepuff witch turned her head slightly as the crunch of snow behind her, evidently a pair of winter boots coming her way, did not go unnoticed. A bespectacled girl appeared beside her, with silky blonde hair and currently sporting a ridiculously looking black jacket, which had numerous pink patches all over its sleeve. Aurelia's delicate face immediately crumpled, as compared to her being clothed with a green knitted bonnet, which was pinned with several dark green dazzling barrettes; layered thrifted and knitted sweaters underneath her winter cloak; and her winter boots completely damped, one would think that this girl standing before her is severely underdressed for the current snowy weather. However, of course, she could not judge. Aurelia specifically had low tolerance for the cold weather, so even if London had been warmer compared to this beloved Scottish Highlands, she would still feel extremely cold. Her wardrobe proves that, as she wears nothing more than layered sweaters and turtleneck sweaters in all different colours. It must be warmer for everyone else. The young badger quirked an eyebrow at her before turning to her tarot cards again, as she supposed right there that the girl must be passing by. Of course, crossing the courtyard is more practical than rounding the marbled corridors. She couldn't be more wrong, though, as the badger almost jumped from astonishment when the girl spoke, wholeheartedly sharing her personal information at Aurelia's expense. Inherently nonplussed by her otherwise completely unsolicited telling of her short backstory, Aurelia lifted an eyebrow. She did not recognise the girl at all; she had never seen her around the castle. It is somewhat commendable, as clearly, she doesn't know when to approach someone who clearly is in their own world and is therefore wanting to remain undisturbed. However, the girl knows something about these fraudulent cards. Her deep brown eyes scanned the cards again before letting her spill her spiel. Her face immediately contorted into a deep scowl when the girl reached out to pick up one of her cards, namely Four of Cups, just to prove a point. She continued to explain what the card meant, to no avail. The girl looked more befuddled by her own explanation than Aurelia had ever been by her explanation. Her explanation for Knight of Swords had been somewhat graspable... Quite understandable to her opinion. That pick is also accurate to her current situation; however, everyone has a goal in mind already, and it couldn't be called a coincidence. People will always conjure something from the top of their head in order to link themselves into such predictions. Aurelia collected her set of tarot cards, tilting her head slightly as she observed the girl. Her eyeglasses are broken. Turning to her, the young badger immediately spoke. “You're a terrible interpreter. You explain things vaguely and incomprehensibly. I advise not to go towards the path of being a professor; you'd be abysmal at that job.” It might have sounded like she was insulting the girl, but the tone of her voice is calm and inherently void of any trace of judgement. Aurelia put her set on the girl's hands before stepping away. “Make a prediction for me. Convince me that this is not at all trying to deceive people who are currently studying Divinations. Hmm, otherwise you could just explain to me the basics,” she nodded her head slightly before pointing at the girl's eyeglasses. “And I can fix your eyeglasses for you if you'd like. I've learnt a charm in the History of Magic; I could help. Unless that kind of aesthetic is your style,” the young badger offered, her face crumpling again, as the aspect of broken eyeglasses as a form of style is something she wouldn't quite pass on to people her age, who, in her opinion, chooses some questionable styles. |
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EDITOR'S NOTE:
I apologise for the TERRIBLY long wait!
memento mori; memento vivere
[ the golden girl; the harshness of such warm light ]
[ aurelia valentine, the golden girl ] † [ lucien de montfort, the deranged artist ]
Visit Lourine's SMITTEN shop for handmade pfps with DISCOUNT—FREE for AI pfp users.
[ aurelia valentine, the golden girl ] † [ lucien de montfort, the deranged artist ]
Visit Lourine's SMITTEN shop for handmade pfps with DISCOUNT—FREE for AI pfp users.
18 Mar 2025, 05:36
Tarot Cards—Phoney or Not?
0:24 ─●───────────────────────────────────────────── -2:56
“You're a terrible interpreter."
Sandy could envision many things in that moment, false confidence immediately curveballed into the gutter. The most prominent idea, though, was her running away out of sheer embarrassment and hopefully not eating shit on her escape route. Talking was already hard enough, conversation, and the fact that she had been shot down so quickly didn't quite help. Rather than allowing this to stray her away, Sandy kept a small smile on her face, albeit anxious and wobbly from the shaky breathing and the restriction of her throat. She was fine, this was fine, people were allowed to make comments and she was allowed to be bad at things.
No she wasn't, but she was always bad at things, so she could maybe just be a rulebreaker in that sense? She had already punched someone, so who was saying she couldn't just be a little bit worse? Eugh, no. Just the idea of being worse than that made her feel icky. Internally, she noted that maybe just being bad at things wasn't punishable through detention, nor punishable by death like she made it seem in her head.
Rocking on her heels, Sandy chewed the inside of her cheek, "Wwwell... Good thing I'm not, uh, trying to go into something like that, yeah? Kids scare me, even as one. Imagine trying to teach a whole crowd of them? Vicious little things..." Feigning a dramatized response, one with a large exhale of air, she resumed casualty with the newfound movement. In her hands, though an foreign topic, was now a role assigned to her. It was like a teacher asking for kids to collect chairs at the end of the day, an unspoken competition of getting the respect of another. Who was she if not someone who always strived to win? Well, certainly not someone who did win, but that didn't matter. She had the drive, she had everything she needed.
"P-predictions aren't, uhm, something you just- throw out, y'know? With, uh, with tarot especially, you have to have some meaning behind them? It's like, do you know what a magic eight ball is? Not, uh, sure if you do... You channel a question into it, and it responds based on that. That's like what tarot is - you channel a response, could even be yes or no, a-and it'll respond? Now, I don't know if this deck is, um... Cleansed... Which, do you know what that does too? Uh, probably not. It, like, gets rid of all that bad mojo, yaknow? Hocus pocus? Oh, I love that movie..."
Her mumbling becomes incoherent for a moment, spoken under her breath as she taps a thumb against the deck. How could she possibly try and explain this? A personal reading with her own question? She didn't really want that bad energy potentially following her, and she had already gotten more than enough of it earlier on this year, but it seemed the only plausible way to give confirmation. Just for now.
"...Thank you for offering to fix my glasses, but I think I'll be fine. Uh, it was... Super duper sweet of you. Kinda started out like you hated my guts there for a second, but, uh... Don't think that's how you are. Hahah..." Sandy's voice comes back, just for a moment. Her hands shake as they examine the brunt of the deck, stiff from the cold and yet active with anxiety. The first few attempts at shuffling are slow, almost pitifully, as she allows the cards to slide down against her left. Front to back, back to front, the cards drop down by their own volition. She repeats the process a few times more, silent, before pausing. She shimmies a bit closer to the stone of the fountain, placing the deck back-side up, all designs enclosed to the darkness of other cards or stone.
Clearing her throat, she gestures to the deck, "Let's say... Okay, maybe I really wanna find out like, why I've pulled absolutely nobody. Hear me out, good question, trust." Sandy giggles, empty hand to her chest as though she's an absolute comedic genius, before using her left to pluck out some cards. One, two, three, all sat from left to right of eachother, "Uh, 'kay. So, left to right. Usually, for a three card spread - which, note, is a three card spread cause there's... Three cards... - It goes past, present and future. Since the general like, idea, of the question is why I'm not getting into any little smooch-fests with people, it'd kinda be like... Why I wasn't getting any before, why I ain't gettin' any now, and the direction of how my life is going and what I should be moving towards to uh, get my plan of... I dunno, apparently dating people. Don't get me wrong, romance is cute, but I don't think I can handle that right now..."
Sandy pauses her awkward rambles just long enough to hunch herself over in the slightest, blowing a small puff of hot breath against her hand to warm it up before flipping the card closest to the left. Past, the fool. She squints at the card for a moment, voice heavy in her throat. Major arcana, major events. The fool, uncalculated decisions, freedom to do what is desired.
"Uh... This is major arcana, so like... In normal card decks, there's like... Kings, queens, jacks... That's like major arcana. They have a bigger impact, uhm, on your question or life as a whole. Uh, apparently in my past I- Really enjoyed doing whatever the hell I wanted, haha. I mean, it makes sense, I'm a kid. Just... It- it's kinda silly? I dunno. The fool kinda represents... Unhindered freedom? Like, look at that guy, he's all happy and jolly. He- he ain't got much in his mind, and that's kinda... What the card is telling you. A-apparently, I... Was a bit too jolly, or reckless with my decisions, and... It kinda resulted in me not getting... The love I want? I-I don't know, I mean, I still have a boyfriend, so..."
There's a drift of her voice, scratching the side of her nose beneath her glasses. She spares a small glance over to her companion, fumbling for a reaction for a few seconds though ultimately returning to her duty. Y'know, with this level of effort, she could be a knight. Sir Sandy? No, it'd be Dame Sandy, wouldn't it? She wasn't sure, she was going off of the vague information her uncle Hector gave her. Hands flip the next card over, present. Five of cups, majority loss, three out of five. Defeat.
"Oh, okay. Really, uh, starting off aggressive. Alright, lesson two... So, cards... Uh, really, they're easy to decipher if you just take a general gander at 'em. See, this one... He ain't all too jolly looking, not like the fool. His cups are down, but he still has two upright, and it's like... Meant to describe moving forward after a bad event, taking your upright cups and leaving the ones you knocked down. I guess, uh, I fucked something up...? Unsure when, unsure how." The shake of her hand returned with a vengeance not long after her words. Big events, disaster. Sandy knew more than enough of that, if you counted being isolated from your peers for majority of your time prior to some fancy little magic school! It was almost ironic. Oh yeah, just share her life story to a stranger through cards with vague ideas, so fun.
Finally, the last card, and a pitiful sigh as she flipped it. Three of swords, through a heart. Was this some cruel joke? Maybe there really was some horrible energy associated with this deck, and she was getting the stabby-pokey end. Oh god, was this karma for making fun of Frazier and his tarot? Surely not. Surely... No matter her self-soothing, Sandy's voice still held a hint of waver as she began once again.
"...Three of swords. Uh, cut things loose. I think this is basically just telling me to break up with him. Y'know, these cards can be really harsh. Everything is so harsh."
2:50 ─────────────────────────────────────────────●─ -2:56
INTERACTING: @Aurelia Valentine