InsaneJournal

"I'd be the godmother, Petey!"
Who: Romany & Petey Wisdom
What: Tarot cards, readings, and some mention of Lazarus-related recent events.
When: uhh...todayish. Friday.
Where: Golden Apple occult shop
Rating: PG13
Status: Complete!



Romany had Dead Can Dance on loop in the shop, and was puttering around, dusting. She'd finished up with a customer not that long ago, helping her with a love potion. She thought it might even work, as the woman's aura was earnest and good and the vibe she got on the person she was interested in was positive. The best love potions were the ones that simply allowed two people to come together so they could fall in love naturally. She finished that chore, and then turned to rearranging the tarot cards, at their insistence.

"Bleedin' tarot, so demandin'.."

Because he owed his sis for all her help with the Lazarus mission, Pete decided to stop into the satan wiccy patchouli-reeking voodoo dolly shop, and inquire if Romany wanted some MSG-free Chinese food. And if there were any sorts of beady curtain things, he was going to go through them with a cranky look on his face and both arms flailing, because he was waging a lifelong war against beaded curtains. They were idiotic and noisy and didn't hide anything like a real curtain did. Stupid beads.

He looked around while wrinkling his nose against offensively stinky herby burny smells, rolling his eyes and cutting to the chase, "Whore of Babylon! If yer in 'ere, you want me t'bring you some Chinese take-away or wot?!"

Well there goes that ambience the place had going on.

MSG-free Chinese sounded really good right about now. But she had to take care of the tarot cards. They insisted. She looked up as she was arranging the Arthurian decks to be closer to the Fae, "Keep your voice down you'll wake up t'Anubis deck."

Because there was an Anubis deck. Which she hated. And it hated her, "Set it on the counter, let me finish this real quick because they'll not shut up until I do."

And the Atlanteans wanted to be by the Gypsy deck....

"I don't have it yet, an' I could care less wot Anubis thinks," was Pete's usual cranky sounding reply, as he walked over and looked over her shoulder at what she was doing. "I wanted t'see wot you wanted, first. Egg rolls, plain rice or the fried rubbish, yes or no? I don't have all day. Summat might crawl out from under the shelves 'ere an' try t'possess me."

He gave the Anubis deck one of those faces that little kids give other people through car windows when they're bored and don't care what strangers think. His nose wrinkled up, he rolled his eyes, and his tongue stuck sideways out of his mouth as he made a low 'nyaaaaaah' noise at it.

"You should. Anubis hates you. I suppose that would give me more time. Egg rolls, fried. Lots o'meat I need me protein, you know how it is, since I'm feckin' the boss in the back. "

At Pete's face, the Anubis deck fell off the shelf. Romany had been no where near it.

"Serves you right. You should commit suicide at the sight o' me, ya wanker." Unconcerned and leaving the Anubis deck there where it landed, Pete merely shrugged at his sister, like none of this was out of the ordinary. "Stop making me want t'kill yer boss. Thurman wanted pepper beef. That good with you as well or did you want summat different? Wot is that infernal reeky smell? It like a demonic turd that shot outta a unicorn's arse after they spent all day eating daisies."

Romany grabbed a towel and picked up the Anubis deck delicately, before carrying it over like it was some kind of toxic waste, and putting it on Dean's chair. HE could take care of it.

"Green bean chicken," Romany replied, having a sudden craving. "An' that's me incense, Petey. I made it with love."

"It smells like a leprechaun's whore house, that's for certain," Pete told her, in no uncertain terms, following along behind her and forgetting entirely about Anubis or his deck. At least Pete was certain the smells of this place weren't coming from him. He was squeaky clean and had passed Miss OCD's sniff test. "You should market that as a chemical weapon. Does it have the magical ability t'ward off people from coming in 'ere, cos it's repulsive t'me. Anyway. Wot if the place I go to doesn't have green beans an' chicken t'gether. Wot's yer second choice?"

"I want bloody green bean chicken breast!" Romany pointed one long finger at him, "Most places 'ave it an' I don't like that orange crud." She was stubborn, she was determined, she wanted green bean chicken breast and she was a Wisdom.

"No, Romany. Give me a second choice, or face the consequences. M'warning you. Stop pointing. Stoppit. Right now. Yer still pointing...."

She was also talking to a Wisdom and the places he went to served neon orange crud, and she was going to have to give him a substitute, because he'd never been to a place that had green bean chicken breasts. That was the reason he stubbornly glared at her finger, leaned in while he opened his mouth, and bit onto it.

Not hard, just enough to get his teeth on there and stay put, without leaving big dents or anything.

"Feck. Kung pow whatever then." Which were effectively opposites on the spicey scale but whatever, Romany could roll with anything. Except the orange crud apparently. "Oh! I'm sayin' it wrong. String bean chicken, not green bean."

Blame the incense.

At this point, Pete was convinced magical fairies had flown up both nostrils and started punching his sinuses with sparkling boxing gloves, only the sparkles were actually bits of broken glass. He removed his teeth from her finger.

"Kung pao chicken it is, then. If there's no string bean chicken. Really? Who has green in their chinese food? The only appropriate color's orange and you know it." He found something, whatever, convenient to lean on. "This place isn't bugged, is it?"

Never hurt to ask.

Well, Panda Express had it at least. And it was delicious. Other places may have a variation.

But the kung pow stuff was a good second bet!

"The panda place has it. And why the 'ell would this place be bugged, do you 'ave any idea what we sell?" Romany scoffed.

Pete usually frequented dive places ran by actual people who spoke actual Chinese. Or Japanese. Or Indian. And did that whole 'catering to western tastes' thing where it wasn't anything resembling any sort of Asian anything. So Panda Express? That's upscale in his book. It clearly isn't divey enough.

"M'not going to the Panda an' you know it. An' you know I have t'ask. You probably also know that things went pear shaped already, don't you?"

He meant with the Lazarus thing, and he was watching her closely to see if she had any...metaphysical...insighty...whatever it was that Romany did. Hullabaloozabub.

There. He made up a new word to describe it.

"But I like panda." Romany pouted at him, as if that would ever actually work.

She grew a little grim-faced, "Yes. I drew up the cards for 'er before you left. Change, death." She leaned against a bookcase, "She has that deck. 'ave 'er draw from it."

Pouting at Pete never worked. In fact, his brain blocked out his sister's pout face and concentrated on the grimface, like now she had his undivided attention.

"She's not you. Neither of us are good at those things. She's still seeing those things, also. You know, the things roaming about." He reached out and poked a finger at her shoulder, in an obnoxious little brother poking spree. "Did you pull any cards after we got back? Or have you not done that quite yet? If you did, did they say anything?"

"It don't matter," Romany replied. "'ave her draw the bloody cards an' then tell me what they are, what order an' if they're upside down or not. But she 'as to draw them. An' if she's seein' things t'only thing to do is wait. One of the things I didn't tell 'er when I drew them before, was things are goin' to get a lot worse before they get better."

She put a hand on Pete's shoulder, "But they will get better, I promise you that."

That wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear or anything he understood, enough that he gave her a funny staring at, even if he didn't pull away.

"Why's she got to pull them 'erself," he questioned, but not in his usual snippy tone. In fact, he seemed to genuinely be wondering why Romany was having her do that. "You always read cards for me. I never touch the ruddy things."

"The cards wanted to be with 'er. I can't pull them for 'er any longer. It 'as to be 'er. She'll understand Petey." She patted the shoulder her hand was on, "That's 'cause they 'ate you. But that deck...that deck really liked 'er."

"That's daft. It makes no sense. Here, give me those Anubis cards...give them here, I'll show you this is silly. Go on, then. Hand them o'er." He held out one hand, like he was going to show the bloody thing who was boss. See if they go about hating him. Hmph. "It's rubbish anyway. It's all based on chance an' not like you an' yer swingy pendulum mappy bits, where you huff incense an' talk to some nutters who think they were transplanted aliens who moved t'Delphi in ancient Greece or some shite."

Romany wasn't about to pick them up, so she moved aside so he could reach them. The cards had kind of a buzzy uneasy feeling to them, "Petey, you're a cop, do I run 'round tellin' you how to do forensics? O'course not. Bloody 'ell I'll call 'er meself an' we'll do it o'er the phone."

"I don't do forensics. We called in people t'do that an' knew better than t'touch things on the scene, unless we were wearing gloves an' even then, it was only after they'd photographed and catalogued things. I make arrests, question an' hound people, an' occasionally shoot things. That's all."

And in another lifetime, he killed and snuck about and knew too many secrets and had hundreds of different connections in circles that made his mind spin just thinking about it. Something told him his mind would be doing loop-de-loops later. He snatched up the deck, put his elbows on the counter, and opened the box, drawing them out and shuffling them up, like he was going to start playing solitaire or blackjack. Luckily, he was used to uneasy nagging feelings from past experience, so if there was anything there? It was like a stroll through a park on a sunny day, to Pete.

"Don't go bothering 'er. Her brother's dead, an' she needs time t'do some things...like my laundry, an' picking up my mess...an' m'not joking, I told 'er not t'bother. But she wanted t'do it, b'cos it gives her summat t'do. That's why m'picking up food for 'er. She's had one ice cream an' beef jerky o'er the past couple o' days. Wait, two snowballs. Those're like lit'le squishy tits in plastic packaging."

Romany facepalmed, and then took four steps back, "Okay Petey. Start drawin'." She took one more step for just in case.

"Well I was goin' t'simply draw one. M'not a card reader like you are."

Silly Anubis oracle whatever it was. He pulled a card out and flipped it carelessly down on the countertop, staring down at some winged woman on the card and shrugging in response. Didn't make sense to him, so he picked up the little booklet, read the name on the card, flipped through the pages, and began reading.

"...blah blah...opportunity t'see yerself clearly an' love an' accept yerself just as you are...blah blah blah...glimpse a truth that might 'ave evaded you until now. Blah. Restoring greater balance an' creating order in the wake o' some chaotic situation that has occurred in yer life. Take time an' make space t'let in the order that wot's-her-guts brings. See there?"

Pete patted the card belonging to the goddess 'wot's-her-guts' and dropped the little booklet down on top of it, looking at Romany with a utterly bland expression.

"It's bollocks," he announced, like he proved she was wrong and these things were silly. "Now do I jus' shove these bastards back in the box again?"

Romany stared at him, then at the cards, then at him.

"Keep the deck, it's yours." She was dead serious. She'd been all ready to clap him on the back and tell him the cards meant he was going to be a daddy, but the actual card he'd drawn had sobered her up right quick. "An' if you can't see 'ow that applies to you now, I 'ope you do, an' soon."

"...I don't play with these things, Romany," Pete was saying with a sigh. "They're geared for the most part, t'simply be vague enough t'cover wot most people want t'hear an' let them fit it into most situations. Now wot do you mean soon? Why'd you say that, then?"

He was shuffling the cards again, elbows on the countertop, tapping them down so they stayed in a neat block. That way he could stuff them back into the box, along with the pamphlet. But he was also eyeing her, warily.

Romany patted him on the shoulder again and got a thick baggy for the cards.

"Petey, your life is chaos. An' now you're startin' to settle down." She nodded her head at the deck. "Okay, draw one more."

Pete flipped one down on the counter and stared at some white winged bird thing. Then he went for the pamphlet. "Hold on, I need t'find this one..."

"Got it, let's see..." He began reading with a squint. "...being called to a place o' innocence an' trust, purity, new beginnings...t'fully receive guidance bein' offered to you...must be willing t'empty out ol' programming an' beliefs...as well as intellectual skepticisms. Summat new is coming...may be time for you t'begin again...in other words, become like a small child or a babe in the womb...open t'new information. Oh, that's brilliant. M'going t'rush right out an' buy meself some adult diapers. Now where was I? Also a time when an outer teacher may appear to guide yer path. You may find yerself drawn to new teachings or paths, including mystery schools. Now is the moment t'respond fearlessly to that inner call. Uh huuuuh."

"That's not what it means! S’figurative, yeh git. It means there's goin' to be information or new knowledge or even a new start an' yeh need to be open minded. An' you of all people should know the value of a fresh start."

Romany smacked him. Hard.

THWACK!

"Ouch, wot's that s'posed t'mean?! Don't hit me. You stoppit. I'll call dad. An' tell him all sorts of sordid things that are likely...true."

THWAP!

After smacking her in return, Pete stared back at her like that challenge was accepted. Take that, stick it in your pipe, and smoke it. "I'll take yer word on it. These cards aren't evil. Yer feckin' weird an' have got some stigma against 'em. Tart. M'taking 'em with me. For shites an' giggles. How much are they though? I’m going t'help support you an' yer whoring ways."

"Twenty," She replied, not even making a joke about the cards being evil and being perfectly fine with them. It was too close to home and she didn't want to go there.

"Twenty it is. I’ll be taking them out of yer evil clutches, an' they can fall off shelves all they bloody well like." Pete thought it was silly, but he threw down twenty dollars out of his wallet, and stuck the cards into the pocket of his old coat, giving it a pit pat. He was reminding himself as well to get a new coat sooner or later, because the other one went up in smoke with Lazarus. "I'll go get yer lunch now. You goin' out t'night or coming 'ome?"

"I'll be comin' 'ome. I miss you lot. I'll be bringing somethin' with me for Neena." Which broke the house rules, but Romany had decided that Neena needed a dog right now. A great big fuzzy huskie. Well it would grow into one eventually. She had all the paperwork and just needed to pick the puppy up.

Oh he was going to kill his sister so hard. Pete haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaated pets with the sort of passion that a thousand raging inferno suns colliding couldn't rival.

"Make sure it's not demonic, requires batteries, is furry, shits, eats, pisses, chews, claws, slithers, screws, spits, hisses, or eats my cow outta the freezer. Oh, or that it doesn’t touch my things, look at my things, or cause anyone nearby t'b'come preggers. And absolutely nothing with glitter, sparkles, ribbons, rainbows, neon pink, lime green, neon pink and lime green, or any of that. Or I'll burn it."

He was, really, being very serious. Deadly serious. Because he never, ever trusted his sister and the word 'present' together in any way, shape, or form. So prepare for disaster to hit.

"Damn. I had the fertility idol all made up an' everything."

"NO. Absolutely not. We've got jobs t'do you know. We can't be toting about...lit'le...we're waiting, all right? Wot if I get called back across the pond? For wote'er reason. B'sides, it's better t'wait a lit'le while longer. B'fore things...are things, an' you don't know? Maybe they might not be things someday. Only being cautious." Or cautiously optimistic. Either way, he was retreating. "M'going now. No presents. For god's sake. NO. Just...she's got a lot...there's things, Romany. Don't rock the bloody boat."

"I'd be the godmother, Petey! I'd take care o'the little deviltyke!" Romany tilted her head, grinning, "It'll be autumn."

"Oh, wote'er, ya hippy nutters witch bitch!" Pete bellowed at her as he went out the door, waving one hand in the air like bai bai sis, oh wait! No, he was flipping her off. Nope! Back to waving again. He'd be back in 15 with her takeaway box of kung pao.