ʙᴇᴇᴘ ʙᴇᴇᴘ, ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ (trashing) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-05-17 14:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: richie tozier (2), ₴ inactive: rosalind walker |
WHO: Richie & Roz
WHAT: "Two psychics walk into a store..." And make plans to hang out with the caravan of other woo-woo's
WHERE: A woo-woo shop
WHEN: This weekend?
WARNINGS: Nah!
STATUS: Complete
Richie wasn’t what he considered much of a shopper. Like, fine, groceries and stuff - he did what needed to be done in that regard. And despite Skyhold’s very old skool medieval fortress aesthetic, it had touches here and there of the modern era. A kitchen with an actual coffeemaker, for example - and an oven that was electric. He had himself and Enola to look after, and he’d been with her since pretty much the beginning for them both - by now, she was used to him packing her lunches for school and then she’d often help with dinner and they needed food to do that. It was one of those basic needs, along with clothes - and other necessities (TP, anyone?). But overall, he just wasn’t into prowling the aisles and spending hours or even fifteen minutes in a store - most of the time he’d rather be playing video games. Though for once he thought maybe he should go out and look into one of the shops that sold psychic shit - the term ‘psychic shit’ encompassed a variety of things, and he really wasn’t sure where to start. He had a deck of tarot cards but thought maybe he should find another - switch it up a little - along with some other tools that may help on his journey as a Seer. Or something. At the very least, after assistance from the Prigany coven, he was fairly sure he could spot fake stuff from the real stuff. Sometimes the display of crystals on colorful cloths was authentic, the herbs mixed in oil - and sometimes, like the wholesale candles sold, it was total bullshit. In Vallo, admittedly, there was probably less chance of that happening but still. He kept an eye out as he perused one of the little shops near the edge of the forest, looking into the various candles and soaps and powders - not all of this he was familiar with, but he’d keep at it. He was squeezing his way, carefully, down one of the tighter aisles when he thought he spotted someone he knew. “Hey,” he waved cordially. “Is this the start of a ‘two psychics walk into a store’ joke?” Sometimes it was weird to consider himself a psychic. He was, he’d accepted it and the aftermath of Pennywise and how that either changed him or unlocked what was already there, but - still weird. On a whim after class, Roz found herself drifting in and out of a few different shops that sold both magic and psychic tools. She hadn’t needed anything particular, though part of her did think she should start investing in some tools to work with her magic. Even though her visions were often very clear, or clear enough to where to start looking, since coming to Vallo they were less so. Maybe tools would help. So she found herself staring at a table of tarot cards, examining the different designs and deciding if she wanted to use her power to see if she could get a sign from one of them. Something that would tell her that this was the deck for her. Did it work like that? Maybe, she had no idea. It wasn’t really covered in class, and she didn’t have the Weird Sisters here to ask questions. She was about to reach for a deck when she heard someone saying ‘hey,’ and realized they were talking to her. Roz stopped and looked up to see who was speaking, smiling when she recognized Richie. “Hey.” she said with a little wave. “Is there a joke for two psychic walking into a store?” “If there isn’t, I’ll make one up,” he replied cheerfully - surely he had the skill to be able to shit out a decent Seer quip. And, oh - oh, wait. Yes, here it came. The joke flowed like water from the tap. “Two psychics walk into a store - one says to the other, ‘you’re fine, how am I?’” Hi-yooooooo. So maybe it was terrible but he at least expected a half-hearted groan that was caught between that and a laugh of disbelief. The reactions to Richie’s puns-off-the-cuff were usually priceless (and he practiced around Enola a lot too, because that was his official duty or something). Tarot cards though. Seemed like a good choice. Richie studied the various decks - most of the art was really beautiful. There was one that had bright neon designs (mostly pink) against a pitch-black backdrop - cool aesthetic, and another featured colorful drawings of badass witchy women that he was way into. “You looking for anything in particular or are you like me - just wanting to keep learning new tricks?” She turned to face him, giving him her full attention as he quickly thought of a joke incorporating psychics and stores. And it was bad. Bad enough to get her to grin, and shake her head. “Points for coming up with that on the spot.” she had to give him some props. Bad, but not the worst. “I was thinking about it.” she said with a nod, looking back to the cards. “Usually when I see something, it’s so clear. I might not always know what it means out of context, but if I don’t, someone else will.” At least it had started to be that way before she landed here. “But here in Vallo, not so much. At least not about bigger events.” Smaller events, sure. She knew when a pop up quiz was coming, but couldn’t get a clear understanding when Vallo was about to pull something on them. “I met someone in my world who used tarot cards once, looking back on it with what I know now, I think she was probably a witch. Maybe with a combination of everything I’ll be able to have a better understanding.” She reached out to the display, her fingers hovering over cards but not quite touching them. “It’s hard to pick which one. I”m kind of hoping something will click.” Picking a tarot deck was like, something of a personal thing - Richie assumed so, anyway. You had to really vibe with the cards, and take care of them, especially since (in theory) you’d be using them everyday. Pulling a card every morning to see what the coming hours held - he tended to do that now, and it was sort of akin to exercising a muscle to build up strength and endurance. “Honestly, for bigger events?” He almost went cross-eyed at the thought of it - you could spend all day interpreting visions or scrying, trying to get a glimpse of what was coming but then you’d miss what was happening in the present, which he’d also argue was important. “I doubt any of us are going to get it exactly right - but nothing wrong with wanting to sharpen the skills. I just learned psychography.” He went for that neon aesthetic deck, picking up the box to read over the back. “It was pretty cool. You just kind of let the vision flow through you and freewrite. Or free draw.” Then you ended up with something else to interpret - but it helped to have a tangible thing to work with. Not just a card that could mean this or that. Roz knew Richie was right, but it was still frustrating to have her powers held back by Vallo. She had to accept it, but she didn’t have to like it. “Probably not. But that won’t stop me from being annoyed that Vallo feels entitled enough to mess with my power.” It was supposed to be hers, not Vallos. As Richie described what he had learned, she paused in her examination for a moment and closed her eyes. Not because she found a deck, but because what he was describing matched up to something along the lines of what Roz and Harvey had done a few times when she’d had visions she couldn’t make sense of. She’d transferred the images to him, and he’d drawn them out. The memory was painful, because he was home, she was here, and worse, he had no idea. Roz might never see him again. Hopefully nothing gave away on her face. “Oh, yeah.” she said, clearing her throat. “I’ve done something similar. Sort of a tag-team approach with an artist I know back home. It was always helpful in dealing with messes we found ourselves in.” Definitely fuck Vallo for messing with power - maybe it just didn’t like for psychics to post spoilers to some of its bigger shenanigans. Or in some cases with other powers, Richie guessed it was to even the playing levels a little too - because, listen, he read comic books. He knew stuff. Some of the people from those were horrifically OP and if shit went sideways, it would be a hundred times worse than murder turkeys - different worlds, different rules. But he could understand the frustration though. “I liked it, yeah,” he nodded, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose with one finger. “It felt a lot easier than trying to interpret cards. Plus it was just like - another way to scry, I guess. Prigany coven was the one who showed me.” He shrugged, still debating that deck of neon cards - damnit, he really should just go ahead and buy them. Especially since if he didn’t, he’d likely be back here hovering and hemming and hawing until he did. “I can show you what they showed me, or they’re always willing to teach stuff too if you wanna go back with me sometime,” he added. “Elain went with me before but she poofed.” Sad. He’d really liked her too, she was way cool. Now the Skyhold garden would probably wither and die because Max definitely sucked at plant upkeep. Richie’s boyfriend had a lot of talents but - green thumbing it wasn’t one of them. “It was useful. The last time we used it, we were able to determine I was seeing images of the Eldritch Terrors that were coming. It didn’t tell us how to deal with it, but at least it was a heads up.” She wasn’t an artist herself, but maybe there would be something to the writing thing, if she could take the images and form them into words. She’d heard of Prigany, and knew who Elaine was. Prigany, she believed, were legitimate, but were happy to also sell their skills. “Did they ask you to pay them?” She asked. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Prigany was legitimate, but they were also happy to help many people for a price. Her hand finally stopped over a deck or cards that read ‘Dust II Onyx, the box black and gold. The design immediately caught her eye, and when she picked it up, an image of herself with the cards in her hand flashed in her mind. Yes, this would be the one she went with. “I know they’re legit.” she continued, after her question, “But I’ve also heard they can be motivated by money. Which yes, makes sense. But I just want to make sure I’m trusting the right people. Because I would be interested in going, yeah.” Honestly, who wasn’t motivated by money? Richie respected the hustle. Not everyone was like those on the network, who would jump at the chance to move mountains for random Joe Blow for free - or to like, have a chance to show off. Prigany had mouths to feed and so did he - Enola’s cushy bank account appeared out of nowhere and they had it if they needed it, sure, but working for the green was an important life skill. “We didn’t pay for the psychography stuff specifically - well, Elain brought them these sweet-ass orchids in exchange, and I had already bought other stuff from them before and talked to them so I knew most of ‘em,” he said. It was a decent working relationship - he liked Prigany okay and he totally wanted to go back to their cozy caravan. They weren’t dicks like some of the other covens (or maybe that was just one coven). Wasn’t like they were hocking fake woo-woo shit either - their wares were legit, and learning psychography had worked for both him and Elain. “But yeah, next time I go you’re welcome to join. I’d say you can trust them, if my word means anything.” He wasn’t an idiot, after all. Despite what the ‘chickens: the pet that poops breakfast’ t-shirt he was currently wearing may suggest. Anyway, Roz went for her tarot deck and Richie went for his - he was building up a nice collection, it was pretty cool. “There’s like a thousand ways to look into the future. Maybe they can show us another.” An exchange seemed more than fair, and it made sense to bring gifts in exchange for asking to learn from them, though Roz wasn’t entirely sure what it would be. She didn’t have a green thumb, so she’d have to think about that. “The word of another Outlander definitely means something.” she said with a smile. “Navigating this place has been weird. Back at home there was just really one place to go to get a handle on this psychic thing and learn more skills. There are so many different places here, from specialized classes at school to other Outlanders. It’s kind of overwhelming at times.” On the topic of seeing the future, she did have a question she was wondering. “Is your power focused entirely on the future?” she asked, tilting her head slightly in questioning. “Can you see the past too? Psychometry?” She was mostly just curious, she needed to start getting to know her fellow psychics among the Outlanders. “For sure,” Richie agreed, about the overwhelming part - he felt that hard. And considering he was pretty new to the whole ‘seeing the future’ aspect he also hadn’t been certain about where to start when he got here - he’d been blipped into Vallo like a mere week or two after confronting Pennywise in the sewers, where he almost died and Eddie did die (to save his life, which was one of the reasons he was so determined to get a grip on all this and also live his life to the fullest - he didn’t want to shit on that sacrifice). He also hadn’t really known he’d been psychic until one of the other ones sensed it about him - they could sniff out their own kind, or something. Post-Deadlights visions had also happened to Beverly - her visions were a lot different than his, but the source was the same. Potentially. There was a lot he didn’t know about what he could do, so the question about psychometry? A good one. “I haven’t really tried like, picking up an object and learning about it,” he said. “Or having it try to trigger visions. So - maybe?” Potentially that could be something learned from Prigany too - they didn’t only see the future; clairvoyance in general was their schtick. “There’s, uh - people have powers like that where I come from. Seeing the future or telepathy or moving stuff with their minds.” Then there was whatever Dwight had, in the offshoot of Derry - Haven, Maine. Also a trash heap. “So it’s possible I’ve always had something and just never knew until we faced IT the second time. I’m still figuring it out. Why, are you into psychometry?” There had been a lot of horror movie watching in Roz’s time, including the original IT. She had never watched the remake, didn’t know if she ever would with Richie being here. The concept was uncomfortable. But she was well aware of the story of Pennywise, and the horrors Richie had been through. She did not comment on that. “It’s less I’m into it and more just part of what I can do. I see. Future, present, past events. I can see ghosts, see through illusions, the true nature of people. I’m still figuring it all out too. Sometimes the visions just happen, sometimes I can trigger them” Her grandmother had died before ever explaining the extent of what she could do. Mambo Marie had left before Roz had been able to spend a whole lot of time with her. Then she learned she could use magic on top of that, and everything became a little more tricky. Though she definitely thought she had a better handle on being a Seer than being a witch, even if they were interwoven. “It’s a power that gets passed down through women on my dads side of the family. I found out later it’s actually tied to being a witch, so it’s an extra layer to figure out.” “That’s pretty cool though. I mean, that it’s a generational thing - part of your family history,” Richie said. He wasn’t sure how it worked on his end - it was probably passed down through families too, or whatever. He was beginning to realize that there was a little bit ‘something’ to each of his friends, whether it was extra sharp senses or psychic visions or really relating to people - the Losers, they didn’t find each other accidentally. Banding together to stop IT from terrorizing the town also wasn’t an accident - there was a reason it was them. It was hard to think about because Stan and Eddie were dead (and he was sour grapes about it, depressed grapes), but that reason was still there. Maybe one day he’d try to look into it more - somehow. Without Mike the research expert to help him. Normally Richie would say it didn’t matter because he was here without them and had to learn how to deal with visions on his own, but. He couldn’t in good conscience continue to believe that. Of course it mattered. “Probably takes awhile to figure shit out too,” he added. “But you’ve got good company for it. And I think stuff’s always stronger when there’s a team-up, so. I’m always around to practice with.” The tarot cards were officially selected, and he’d see if anything else caught his eye as he made his way up to the front counter. “And I dunno, I’m thinking about stopping for ice cream after this, so - let me know what flavor I’m gonna get.” Totally a joke. He didn’t need a psychic to know he’d go for cookie dough. She wasn’t sure how cool it was, it sounded more like a whole lot of betrayal, backstabbing, and cursing. But perhaps without knowing all of that, it was pretty cool. Her family had managed to survive through a lot of threats, so that was something. Roz grinned at the mention of ice cream. Easily one of her weaknesses, burgers, milkshakes, milkshakes took ice cream. “Cookie dough.” she said without hesitation before she even realized that she was going to say it. That wasn’t a guess though, she was sure of it. “Always a solid choice.” Not her favorite, but still high up on the list of delicious. “Well, that settles it,” Richie grinned. He did love himself some cookie dough, and it was probably obvious. The psychic vibes. “And you’re gonna get - “ He paused for dramatic effect, rubbing his forehead with his free hand as if he was about to pluck a tidbit from the Fates as they wove their future tapestries - just reach in and grab it, yoink. “Double chocolate. Mocha-choca-lata-ya-ya.” Roz was probably too young for that joke (she probably hadn’t even been born when that song came out, Jesus). Damn, now he felt downright ancient. “If you wanna come with me, I mean,” he tacked on, picking up his bag once he’d finished with his purchases. “Brain Freeze is right up the block.” It was a pretty cool (literally) ice cream parlor - and the ice cream was so good you shoveled it in and, yes, definitely earned a bit of the stabby-feeling brain freeze. She wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a joke, but she just stared at him blankly as he (correctly) guessed her typical ice cream pick in the most extra way she had heard in quite a while. “Er- yeah.” she said, arching an eyebrow and tilting her head slightly. “Minus the Mocha.” Ice cream sounded good to her, so she followed him to the cash, paying for her tarot deck, and throwing in a journal she had found earlier in the shop. She also intended to start writing about her dreams when she woke up in the morning. “I could definitely go for ice cream though, I’m in.” “Wow, I got it right? Minus the mocha. But cool, let’s go,” Richie nodded toward the exit. It seemed like a good way to cap off this shopping adventure. Or, well, you know - ice cream was always a solid choice regardless. He was convinced it cured most ailments. And he’d also see about getting in touch with Prigany for another trip to their caravan - it’d be kind of bittersweet without Elain but he hoped she was doing okay back home (though from what he knew her home was also kind of a dumpster fire, join the club) and he’d bring some other cool flowers to Prigany all in her honor. Hey, he could at least manage that - and he liked to think she’d have been proud too. |