(no subject)
It's wrong to do but Daniel's asleep anyway. Besides, where is Orfeo going to find runes of his own at this time of the night?
It's simple getting in. He notes the protection spell, but it's not like it's there to keep him out. The Big Oaf is sleeping upstairs. He might kick him once on his way out. Just because.
Then he moves to the cupboard, helps himself to some cereal and blinks the TV on. Teen Titans probably shouldn't be on at this time of night, but it is. He watches it with less enthusiasm than usual and changes it to the silent film version of The Phantom of the Opera.
Now, for a reading. He grimaces as he feels in the bag for stones. Jade. Great. Just what he needs. Some shit about his love life.
All right, you little fuckers, he thinks to himself. Let's see how things pan out for me according to y'all.
Should I even bother doing anything at all?
Perth. Change and gambling. Gambling away chances. Away family, away children, away everything. Read the dice and weep. Live by the dice, pay the price. Unknown secrets. Enjoyment and wild abandon with mysterious unexpected outcomes. Ha bloody ha. Cannot lose, but can never win.
Othila. Homeland. Home. Inheritance. But here it is reversed. Obstactles that require the end of balance and stability, that require painful truths to be revealed. Problems from origins and family. Problems that will not go away. Problems that won't...
Isa. Ice. Cold, stagnant, frozen, stuck. The end of everything even passion. Slippery slopes. No way to overcome them. It requires courage to overcome, fighting against the cold, against the bitterness of always Winter. The way out is change.
"Figures," he mutters dumping the runes back in the bag. Figures.
He has no taste for cereal suddenly. Now it tastes like sawdust, like worms and he 'ports it out of his sight. The TV's gone wonky, bloody somehow. He wipes at it with a free hand and watches it fade away. He's not losing his mind, nope, just fucking things up.
He walks back to the kitchen. The boy's turning out all right, he thinks to himself with something almost like a fond smile as he looks at his son asleep at the table. "Hm. I do love you, Daniel. I do love Laurel too, but in the end, I'll perish by ice, huh?"
He kisses his son's forehead and pulls a blanket out of thin air and sets it on the young man's shoulders. For a second it looks like Daniel might wake up, but Orfeo gently pushes him back to sleep. Probably unkind to do, but he doesn't think he has it in him to talk to Daniel just now.
It's hard to do though, surprisingly. Damn good protection spell you got there, kiddo, he thinks as he wipes blood from his nose. But now it is time for another midnight confession of sorts. He's missed this. He used to do this much more often when Daniel was little. And sometimes he does think this might have caused Daniel's fear of the dark but more than often he thinks there's other causes for it.
Whispers. "When you were born, your mother wouldn't hold you. I stood there for a moment before taking you into my arms and I felt so guilty. I knew things would be horrible for you, like they were for me. So I saved away some happiness for you. I wanted you to have it. I knew your mother and I wouldn't give you much. The trouble with the shade of happiness I gave you is it hasn't done you much good so far."
He lets himself out the front door and down the steps to the sidewalk, smirking rather cruely at the man taking out his trash.
When I was going up the stairs, I met a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today. I wish, I wish he'd go away.
It's simple getting in. He notes the protection spell, but it's not like it's there to keep him out. The Big Oaf is sleeping upstairs. He might kick him once on his way out. Just because.
Then he moves to the cupboard, helps himself to some cereal and blinks the TV on. Teen Titans probably shouldn't be on at this time of night, but it is. He watches it with less enthusiasm than usual and changes it to the silent film version of The Phantom of the Opera.
Now, for a reading. He grimaces as he feels in the bag for stones. Jade. Great. Just what he needs. Some shit about his love life.
All right, you little fuckers, he thinks to himself. Let's see how things pan out for me according to y'all.
Should I even bother doing anything at all?
Perth. Change and gambling. Gambling away chances. Away family, away children, away everything. Read the dice and weep. Live by the dice, pay the price. Unknown secrets. Enjoyment and wild abandon with mysterious unexpected outcomes. Ha bloody ha. Cannot lose, but can never win.
Othila. Homeland. Home. Inheritance. But here it is reversed. Obstactles that require the end of balance and stability, that require painful truths to be revealed. Problems from origins and family. Problems that will not go away. Problems that won't...
Isa. Ice. Cold, stagnant, frozen, stuck. The end of everything even passion. Slippery slopes. No way to overcome them. It requires courage to overcome, fighting against the cold, against the bitterness of always Winter. The way out is change.
"Figures," he mutters dumping the runes back in the bag. Figures.
He has no taste for cereal suddenly. Now it tastes like sawdust, like worms and he 'ports it out of his sight. The TV's gone wonky, bloody somehow. He wipes at it with a free hand and watches it fade away. He's not losing his mind, nope, just fucking things up.
He walks back to the kitchen. The boy's turning out all right, he thinks to himself with something almost like a fond smile as he looks at his son asleep at the table. "Hm. I do love you, Daniel. I do love Laurel too, but in the end, I'll perish by ice, huh?"
He kisses his son's forehead and pulls a blanket out of thin air and sets it on the young man's shoulders. For a second it looks like Daniel might wake up, but Orfeo gently pushes him back to sleep. Probably unkind to do, but he doesn't think he has it in him to talk to Daniel just now.
It's hard to do though, surprisingly. Damn good protection spell you got there, kiddo, he thinks as he wipes blood from his nose. But now it is time for another midnight confession of sorts. He's missed this. He used to do this much more often when Daniel was little. And sometimes he does think this might have caused Daniel's fear of the dark but more than often he thinks there's other causes for it.
Whispers. "When you were born, your mother wouldn't hold you. I stood there for a moment before taking you into my arms and I felt so guilty. I knew things would be horrible for you, like they were for me. So I saved away some happiness for you. I wanted you to have it. I knew your mother and I wouldn't give you much. The trouble with the shade of happiness I gave you is it hasn't done you much good so far."
He lets himself out the front door and down the steps to the sidewalk, smirking rather cruely at the man taking out his trash.
When I was going up the stairs, I met a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today. I wish, I wish he'd go away.