Thread: My shitty friends and their stupid psychic parties (SomethingEsoteric, YellowSmoke

It was clear that Brooklyn wasn't going to buy into anything Maitreya had to tell her, though that had been clear almost from the moment she'd entered the room, a muted haughtiness about her person, as though she herself were too wise to learn anything from a reading. No matter, even pride could fall foul of hope, if the right chord were struck. One could take a horse to water, but you could not teach it if it did not want to learn - if it rode its own saddle too highly - and the reader could only cast her arrows into the ether and allow fate to determine whether or not they found their mark. As you may, came the vague reply. But do listen to your heart if you will not listen to me. The High Priestess is both a spiritual and a sexual figure. I can tell that you are not a very spiritual person - I know, I know, I'm good, right? Treya smiled humourously at her client, and watched with intrigue to see how sternly the other woman would keep up her walls. This card may imply that you have a great sexual energy which is not reaching its potential, or that something is focusing your energies elsewhere and preventing you from attracting the right kind of person. The High Priestess always urges us to listen to our intuition... though sadly, we are often too busy to give it the time of day to guide us to happiness. Tell me how is work? The way in which Treya phrased her final question implied a knowledge - or at least a strong assumption - that work was indeed taking up much of Brooklyn's time, though the air of conceit which marked her earlier assertions had vanished. With much of her clientele it was up to Maitreya to play the role of the wise woman, to lead the listener along the path to esoterically-accessed knowledge, but not so tonight - not with Brooke. Her act would not be believed if she could predict the weather for every Wednesday in the coming year some trick or ploy would be behind it, and the fair-skinned, freckled woman before her would spend her energies figuring it out or ignoring it, and not channeling them towards happiness. But you will not be happy either way, Treya decided, gazing intimately across the table. Only Brooke would lead Brooke, she knew, and she wondered if the other had not been led before, only to fall and be hurt at the end of the path. Who tripped you, my dear? Who failed to catch you when their arms and breast were the only surface you wished to land upon? Despite the stoic and sardonic reproach with which her art was met, Maitreya liked this woman. She acted strong, though she suspected that much of it was an act, and as an actress herself she could not help but feel drawn to the person opposite her. For all her warmth and wisdom, Treya had proved throughout the years to be a difficult woman to get close to. She lived her life as an act, focusing her energies on the lives of others, wherein all of us are actors, and her own world - her role as observer and subject of experience - she shunned out of a distaste for passivity. In her subjective reality she too often had too little control, and she herself made for a harsh and unforgiving audience, but upon another's stage she was always in control, and always able to paint herself in whatever way she wished before the onlookers. She was all ears for Brooklyn's reply, the school counsellor act dropped as she listened intently and openly, her visage broadcasting a tranquil warmth about their intimate setting. On their own, each card was but an emblem possessed of a vague pointing in the right direction. With a little feedback and developed intuition, however, they could be knit together in series to paint a more coherent message, and already Maitreya had an idea of what her final words would be. When at last the next card was turned over, two Lovers lay entwined upon its surface. Treya's expression remained inscrutable.