(Untitled)

[song_of_stars]

At typical Happy Hour time, Urania is sitting at the bar with a laptop in front of her, working out an advanced formula to improve the range of a space telescope. It isn't until Mercury, bobbing at her elbow, nudges her that she realizes that no one is getting behind the bar to serve people

Comments

[anold_soul]

Tommy saddles up a seat at the bar, bareback (which is to say: without a literal saddle or anything. He's still wearing pants. He's gotten that speech.) He acknowledges the drink specials with a, "Heh".

Ah, kitsch. You can't escape it.

He cocks his head to the side at the goings on behind the bar, though.

"Excuse me," he asks. "You have planets?"

Actually, that's more of an observation.

[song_of_stars]

"I do. Do you need to see a particular one?"

She smiles and Mercury bobs at her shoulder in greeting.

[anold_soul]

Tommy waves at it.

"Uh, no. That's okay. Just a drink."

He needs to see a drink. And then not see it anymore, because he has imbibed it.

[song_of_stars]

"What would you like? One of the specials or something else?"

[anold_soul]

"What's the Space Odyssey like?"

He can compare and contrast it with the ones he has already had.

[song_of_stars]

"It's 151 proof rum, Malibu rum, Pineapple juice, Orange juice, Grenadine, and Cherries. Sound good?"

[anold_soul]

It sounds inebriating. So in other words:

"Yes. Yes it does," Tommy says, eagerly.

[song_of_stars]

"Done." She puts together the drink and sets it on a coaster in front of him. "Enjoy. Do you want the fortune telling, too?"

[anold_soul]

Tommy takes the drink. And then Tommy takes a drink.

"Yeah. About that. It's not gonna be something like: 'I see drunkenness in your future', is it?" He asks, warily.

Not that he would mind seeing that.

[song_of_stars]

"Not really, no. I can read your palm, I can read your horoscope, I can read tarot for you, I can crystal gaze... Or none of the above. And... seeing drunkness in your future isn't all that difficult."

[anold_soul]

"It isn't? Good," replies Tommy, sounding faintly relieved.

Drunk news is good news.

He mulls over his options. Horoscope depends on his birth-date, which is fake, and his palm is attached to a body that isn't actually his.

"Tarot: that's cards, right?"

Cards sound safe enough. Although they do have those sharp, laminated corners...

[song_of_stars]

"Yes. 78 cards laid in patterns used for divinatory purposes."

She's rather proud of that. It's one of her better inventions.

[anold_soul]

"And that works?"

If it does, Tommy can't help but wonder if all of those hands of Go Fish were trying to tell him something.

Do you have any fives?
No, your girlfriend is going to dump you.

Well, that was always kind of a given. August kind of hand a point about the: him, being a terrible boyfriend thing.

[song_of_stars]

"Yeah. Not every time and there are ways of interpreting it, but it can be pretty accurate."

[anold_soul]

"Works for me," agrees Tommy, who is nearing the bottom of his glass. "Fire it up."

...

"Or, you know: let's give it a shot."

...

"...Card related saying."

Uno?

[song_of_stars]

"Deal me in, perhaps?"

She Calls in her Tarot deck.