A Double Edged Sword
Ruin stumps in his chair in his room behind his desk.
Damn the god.
If that were possible, which Ruin didn't really this was.
Still...
Damn the god.
And what the hell had possessed him to call Námo 'pet'? That creeps the card out. Without thinking, his deck appears in his hand and he is shuffling.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
And then ten cards are dealt.
He glares at the spread, knowing already the meaning of the cards. Unlike mundane practitioners, he and his siblings didn't need to stares and debate and question and second guess.
He knew.
And he doesn't like what he sees.
Death to represent himself. Six of Pentacles across. Ten of Wands for the foundation and the Seven of Swords for the overriding influences. Five of Pentacles was his past, the Sun his future. He grumbles to see the Six of Swords sitting in his fears. He disliked pulling his own suit for that place. Luckily, he'd never drawn himself as his own fears. Ace of Cups was the outside influences and the Hermit represented the truth of self.
Then he stares at the outcome.
The Five of Wands.
Reversed.
Damn it!
He shouldn't have slept with her.
Should never have marked her.
His path led to her.
Because of his choice, his path now led to her. He hated his path leading to one particular person. Gods of the multiverse, why the hell did it have to be her?
Ruin looks over the spread once more, though he knows there will be no change.
The cards read plain as day: he had come to a point of transition, change, and growth, but only if he can overcome his natural reluctance toward charity and generosity. Out of the foundation of the lack of approval from his family, Ruin now recognizes a pattern of self-sabatoge and baseless fears. When he first began on this path, the one that led him to Milliways and to Gorlim, his objective had been clear. Now he sees the escape he'd planned to engineer for Gorlim may yet be his very own.
The unsettling thing is that such a change is likely to succeed, which could lead to a loss of everything he is and everything he knows. It hardly helps that those around him are not only insightful, but foolishly insist that they can somehow heal what they perceive as a wrongness about him.
He was ruin, for fuck's sake! What is wrong with being what the hell he was! What none of them seemed to realize is that he fills a necessary void. He is part of a greater plan, even though he preferred to stand alone.
And yet, for all that, the end... he sees... is as obvious as if the card had her face.
A lover of confrontation, a troublemaker.
She who has crawled inside, despite his efforts.
Or, perhaps, because of them.
In furious anger, he sweeps his hand across the desktop, flinging the cards to the floor.
Fuck.
Damn the god.
If that were possible, which Ruin didn't really this was.
Still...
Damn the god.
And what the hell had possessed him to call Námo 'pet'? That creeps the card out. Without thinking, his deck appears in his hand and he is shuffling.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
And then ten cards are dealt.
He glares at the spread, knowing already the meaning of the cards. Unlike mundane practitioners, he and his siblings didn't need to stares and debate and question and second guess.
He knew.
And he doesn't like what he sees.
Death to represent himself. Six of Pentacles across. Ten of Wands for the foundation and the Seven of Swords for the overriding influences. Five of Pentacles was his past, the Sun his future. He grumbles to see the Six of Swords sitting in his fears. He disliked pulling his own suit for that place. Luckily, he'd never drawn himself as his own fears. Ace of Cups was the outside influences and the Hermit represented the truth of self.
Then he stares at the outcome.
The Five of Wands.
Reversed.
Damn it!
He shouldn't have slept with her.
Should never have marked her.
His path led to her.
Because of his choice, his path now led to her. He hated his path leading to one particular person. Gods of the multiverse, why the hell did it have to be her?
Ruin looks over the spread once more, though he knows there will be no change.
The cards read plain as day: he had come to a point of transition, change, and growth, but only if he can overcome his natural reluctance toward charity and generosity. Out of the foundation of the lack of approval from his family, Ruin now recognizes a pattern of self-sabatoge and baseless fears. When he first began on this path, the one that led him to Milliways and to Gorlim, his objective had been clear. Now he sees the escape he'd planned to engineer for Gorlim may yet be his very own.
The unsettling thing is that such a change is likely to succeed, which could lead to a loss of everything he is and everything he knows. It hardly helps that those around him are not only insightful, but foolishly insist that they can somehow heal what they perceive as a wrongness about him.
He was ruin, for fuck's sake! What is wrong with being what the hell he was! What none of them seemed to realize is that he fills a necessary void. He is part of a greater plan, even though he preferred to stand alone.
And yet, for all that, the end... he sees... is as obvious as if the card had her face.
A lover of confrontation, a troublemaker.
She who has crawled inside, despite his efforts.
Or, perhaps, because of them.
In furious anger, he sweeps his hand across the desktop, flinging the cards to the floor.
Fuck.