(no subject)
So
I'm guessing one of my friends finally got sick of me having lots of plans and ideas and never following through on any of them.
About a month ago I found a parcel outside my glass sliding door, which is behind a padlocked gate I might add. On top of it was an gorgeous, slightly thorny perfect white rose, and a business card.
If I ever get around to buying a camera I'll post up a picture of the card, but for now I'm waiting til I travel overseas so I can get one duty free. The card says "Prince Charming Intervention Services" on the front, and on the back reads "When you finish your Quest, we have a job for you".
Intriguing ambiguousness. My favourite way to start a morning.
So I opened the package, while ticky bug went toddling around the courtyard and thankfully did not try to pick up and eat my thorny rose. Inside it was a set of Tarot cards, or half a set really. Just the Major Arcana, which are the 22 cards that have really symbolic archetypal images on them of Hermits and Magicians and Emperors. They're numbered in order from one to twenty-one, with an extra card called The Fool which has no number at all.
I used to read Tarot cards for fun back in highschool, about the same time I learned to read palms and write swirly calligraphy. (They were very teenagey years. I give thanks that I can look back on pseudo-Witchcraft rather than Emo Vampires).
There is actually a Quest of sorts in them, although not a very specific one. You follow the cards in order and learn the lessons each card is meant to signify. Presumably when you've learned a lesson sufficiently you can move onto the next card. What I'm actually meant to *do* to accomplish these lessons has been left up to my imagination, apparently, because I scoured the package and didn't find anything. Possibly there is some sort of clue written in lemon juice on the Intervention Services card but it's too late at night to be finding something flammable.
Anyway, I have so far failed to find out who sent it (I did accuse my most likely suspect, who claimed innocence but thought it was a brilliant idea and said if it DID actually get me to shift off my lazy ass she would buy whoever did it a drink).
So in the absence of further direction, I have been contemplating it for a while now and am ready to meander off on my Heroes Quest.
Presuming I am meant to be a Hero. Given the subtext I may be expected to be Cinderella. Or possibly a Fairy Godmother. (Or a pumpkin. If it turns out to be pumpkin, I will let you know).
The first card I pulled out was The World. I look forward to keeping y'all informed of how my efforts to become a real-life crazy person on a quest goes. And if the person who sent me these cards is reading this, be aware that I have eagle eyes and will be scouring the neighbourhood looking for telltale rosebushes and when I find you I will embark on a scheme so ridiculously convoluted and devious, so gloriously machiavellian and magnificent, so utterly insidious that you will never ever guess it was me who prodded it all, because payback is a bitch.
(Unless you happened to read this. In which case, I am lying. I am an innocent fluffy duckling incapable of plotting the ploofiest plot. It was somebody else. Probably the mailman.)
I'm guessing one of my friends finally got sick of me having lots of plans and ideas and never following through on any of them.
About a month ago I found a parcel outside my glass sliding door, which is behind a padlocked gate I might add. On top of it was an gorgeous, slightly thorny perfect white rose, and a business card.
If I ever get around to buying a camera I'll post up a picture of the card, but for now I'm waiting til I travel overseas so I can get one duty free. The card says "Prince Charming Intervention Services" on the front, and on the back reads "When you finish your Quest, we have a job for you".
Intriguing ambiguousness. My favourite way to start a morning.
So I opened the package, while ticky bug went toddling around the courtyard and thankfully did not try to pick up and eat my thorny rose. Inside it was a set of Tarot cards, or half a set really. Just the Major Arcana, which are the 22 cards that have really symbolic archetypal images on them of Hermits and Magicians and Emperors. They're numbered in order from one to twenty-one, with an extra card called The Fool which has no number at all.
I used to read Tarot cards for fun back in highschool, about the same time I learned to read palms and write swirly calligraphy. (They were very teenagey years. I give thanks that I can look back on pseudo-Witchcraft rather than Emo Vampires).
There is actually a Quest of sorts in them, although not a very specific one. You follow the cards in order and learn the lessons each card is meant to signify. Presumably when you've learned a lesson sufficiently you can move onto the next card. What I'm actually meant to *do* to accomplish these lessons has been left up to my imagination, apparently, because I scoured the package and didn't find anything. Possibly there is some sort of clue written in lemon juice on the Intervention Services card but it's too late at night to be finding something flammable.
Anyway, I have so far failed to find out who sent it (I did accuse my most likely suspect, who claimed innocence but thought it was a brilliant idea and said if it DID actually get me to shift off my lazy ass she would buy whoever did it a drink).
So in the absence of further direction, I have been contemplating it for a while now and am ready to meander off on my Heroes Quest.
Presuming I am meant to be a Hero. Given the subtext I may be expected to be Cinderella. Or possibly a Fairy Godmother. (Or a pumpkin. If it turns out to be pumpkin, I will let you know).
The first card I pulled out was The World. I look forward to keeping y'all informed of how my efforts to become a real-life crazy person on a quest goes. And if the person who sent me these cards is reading this, be aware that I have eagle eyes and will be scouring the neighbourhood looking for telltale rosebushes and when I find you I will embark on a scheme so ridiculously convoluted and devious, so gloriously machiavellian and magnificent, so utterly insidious that you will never ever guess it was me who prodded it all, because payback is a bitch.
(Unless you happened to read this. In which case, I am lying. I am an innocent fluffy duckling incapable of plotting the ploofiest plot. It was somebody else. Probably the mailman.)