2020-01-31 - The Fault In Our Stars

Since her accident, Anne's been temporarily installed in Apartment 600 of the Bayside Apartments, which happens to be the living spaces of one such Patrick Addington. A two bedroom affair, everything is functional and clean and boring and in beachy shades of beige, blue and white. The furniture is nice and expensive but there aren't any personal touches here; there's no family photos, no charming bric-a-brac, it's got a very 'show house' feel to it all.

And then there's Anne, who hobbles around on a pair of crutches with a boot on her foot, navigating somewhat clumsily but without incident (yet). Her dogs are no where to be seen; they obviously have not been invited to also temporarily stay while Anne recovers. She's put out some wine and snacks in the living room and that's where she invites everyone to sit, with bright smiles and cheek-kisses to Isabella once they arrive. "Patrick isn't here," she tells them once she's settled on the sofa, in case anybody was wondering. "So we'll have the apartment to ourselves for as long as we need it."

As promised to Anne, she has delivered visitors to her door, and cheek kisses are returned by delicate European ones that find the air close to the blue-eyed woman's cheeks. If Isabella notices the apartment's minimalist look, she doesn't show it, but she's definitely hunting for all the labels that the historian intended to put all over Patrick's things.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, concerned features finding Anne's crutches and boot. "Better, I hope?" She looks recovered from her injuries, though there's something - a lack of her usual brightness, a malady that's more metaphysical than anything tangible. To the unfamiliar woman with bright red hair with them, she gestures between the two. "Anne Washburn, City Hall Archivist, meet Philomena Sparrow Jones, our tarot reader and presumably lover of all treats." She hefts up a plastic bag full of small boxes from Vydal's. "And the lovely Miss Lilith Winslow, of course." A wink to Lilith. "Apparently this is our payment for whatever portents of the future Sparrow manages to guide us in."

She sets these on the table and gravitates to the wine and cheese immediately. But she does eventually take a seat near Anne on the couch. "Would you like me to pour?" she offers to her friend. She wiggles a hand towards one of the bottles.

Sparrow maybe wasn't expecting someplace so nice. Impersonal, sure, but nice. When she put up that ad, she figured there'd be some visits to one diner or another for a slice of pie or a cinnamon roll. Instead, there's wine and cheese and treats from Patisserie Vydal? There might be a teensy bit of worry that maybe they didn't read the ad itself and are expecting a bit more than she can offer, but she's not about to bring that up and ruin her chance at cheese. Or wine. Or chocolate.

"Hi," the neon redhead chirps with a cheerful wave. "Sparrow, usually, but Phil'll do just fine, too." She's in jeans and a sweatshirt today, most notable becaue that shirt, depicting XIII - DEATH isn't nearly as optimistic as she is, but that's surely nothing to worry about. She pulls a rainbow-colored drawstring pouch from a pocket as they all get settled in. "No rush or anything, but just to get an idea of what I was planning? Figured I'd do a three-card pull for each of you, focused on a particular question if you'd like, and you can ask any follow-up questions you'd like. If you'd rather something more involved, we can do that too, but more cards means more time, and there are three of you, so." That's up to them, seems like; she's just setting expectations as best she can. Much as it might sound like there should be more, she instead pops a piece of cheese past her lips and leaves it at that for now.

"It's nice to meet you, Sparrow," the pleasantries are passed around easily. And in spite of the boot on her foot, the crutches she needs to support herself with, and the largely impersonal (and LABEL free - ALAS!) space, Anne seems to be completely at ease. There's a curious catch of Isabella's eyes as she settles - there's no question of the woman's lack of brightness, but the momentary look telegraphs something of concern. Still, she waves her hand to the bottle when the offer to pour is made. "Be my guest. Patrick has a very good taste in gin and a terrible taste in wine, so I had him grab a few bottles from my place when I got settled in," she explains as she makes herself comfortable, focusing back in on Sparrow as she explains. There's a purse to her lips and a subtle furrow to her brow, but she looks intrigued rather than concerned. "I've never done this before. I did have my palm read once at a carnival. Do the questions have to be specific?"

NO LABELS. There's a disappointed look.

There's a faint smile towards Anne at her concern, mouthing a soft 'later' towards her, before Isabella uncorks the wine properly and pours Anne a glass, and then the rest of the ladies, leaving the last for herself. "I've never done this before, either," she confesses to Sparrow, and a curious glance at the pouch in her hand. Questions spin in her head - there's always questions, but for this exercise, some guidance would be helpful. The blue-eyed archivist's query is a good one, so she falls silent as she takes a quiet sip of her wine and fixes herself a plate of snacks.

"I'm perfectly fine with the three-card spread. What does that mean, exactly?" She also opens up the boxes from Vydal's that she brought. "Will the stars be more receptive if we get sugar in us?" she teases. "Because I brought a few per the ad."

"You don't have to ask a question at all," Sparrow notes, potentially unhelpfully. "If you don't focus on a question, the cards are gonna talk about whatever they wanna talk about. If you do wanna ask about something in particular, it can be as vague as how's my love life looking or as specific as, uh." She accepts the offered wine with a dip of her head and a lift of the glass but doesn't taste from it yet even if that might buy her more time to think up an example. "What do I gotta do to make things right with so-and-so after I did that thing." Her lips purse flat with a wry skew toward the left like maybe that's pulled from personal experience. Rather than linger there, she goes on to explain, "Usually a three card pull looks at the past that set the situation up and is influencing it still, whatever's in front of you at present either helping or hurting and the way things are looking right now for the future. Or maybe a path forward. Depending. But we can also look at it differently, depending on the question. Like what's in your control, what isn't and what you aren't even seeing yet."

Giving her glass-holding hand a little wobble, half-dismissive and half-indicative, she grins at Isabella and tells her, "Good wine helps. Chocolate always helps. I mean. Not that the stars get to enjoy it, but." With a little shrug, she ventures, "Energy?" After a little sip of her drink, she sets the glass down to reach for one of those wonderful little treats, picking out a particularly tempting truffle. "Though, since this is your first time, I really do wanna be clear about something. I am definitely not the best reader in Gray Harbor. There are people who are worth your cash. And wine and treats and all of it. Not that I'm bad? But I'm accepting desserts as payment cuz I'm still learning. No promises about grand insights or that I'mma tell you anything you're gonna like."

To the disappointed look at the lack of labels, Anne quirks a wry smile over to Isabella. The mouthing of 'later' is acknowledged with a simple nod before she's back to focusing on Sparrow, reaching to get a glass of wine after it's poured. She seems to be taking everything in - there's no real skepticism here, just openness to the experience, although there's a bit of a giggle at Sparrow's end warning. "This is just for fun, yeah?" she shrugs, grabbing a piece of cheese and a cracker for nibbling purposes. "I mean I don't expect any sort of earth shattering revelations. And if it helps you learn? All the better," she brightens with a smile to Sparrow. Then, she cants her head to Isabella. "Do you want to ask your question first? Maybe it'll help me figure out mine."

"Yes," Isabella says solemnly, waving a hand devoid of wine. "So absolutely no worries, I think. I do this largely because I'm curious plus as Anne and Lil have been saying, it could be fun." She reaches out to take a bite of cheese and cracker a sip of wine, before she nods to her friend and leans in towards the deck.

Look, she's never done it before and apparently, the cards talk.

"I have to leave for a week," she tells the Tarot. "Traveling back to the UK. What's waiting for me there?"

Giggling's a good sign and sets that niggling worry at the back of Sparrow's head to rest, a bit of tension that she maybe hadn't noticed was there dropping from her posture as her shoulders sink a little. "Alright." Easy enough. She brushes her hand on her jeans without thinking, just in case there'd been any chocolate left, no noticeable marks left behind on the dark denim, then scoots forward to bring herself closer to the table. The deck drawn from the bag has a pale rorschach-like pattern on the back, what can be glimpsed of the fronts of the cards as she shuffles suggesting white backgrounds, black line drawings and vibrant water colors. Her expression grows more serious as she focuses on Isabella's question, offering the deck over to the querent to cut once she's done.

When the cards are drawn back, squared within her hand, she sets all three cards on the table, from left to right, then takes a moment to consider them before she tries to translate: the Hanged Man, reversed, a blue tiger with a magenta cord around one paw; the Seven of Cups, a woman with ascending glass behind her and pink liquid rising in front of her; and the Page of Pentacles, a woman in a blue cloak and stockings holding a golden apple, a monkey in a pointed hat at her feet. With a furrow of her forehead, she looks up at Isabella and taps in front of the one reversed card, the one trump. "He says that you've lost a lot already, that you've given up more than you should've, maybe not all willingly. Sacrifice to your detriment." Brows then lift as that digit moves over to the second card splashed in pink. "And she says you're facing--" With a little wobble of her hand in regards to the temporal placement of that verb. "--decisions which, uh. Might be misleading? Not that you're being mislead. That's, uh." Another scrunch of her face as she tries to figure out how to explain it. "It's about your own head, your own desires. Nostalgia sometimes. Holding onto things. Desires, dreams. Painted prettier from this perspective. Don't fool yourself. That's what she says."

But there's one more, to which she points, a little easier in her demeanor for this one. "And then her? She's a beast of beginnings. Success, yeah, but only first steps. A foundation to build on. The end result of this trip. Whatever it's for. If you keep clear-headed." That much done, she plucks up her wine and waits, sees how it lands.

"Oooh, that's a good question," Anne says before enthusastically leaning forward, watching with interest as Sparrow draws the deck from her bag and begins to cut the deck. There's a glimmer in her blue eyes; it's excitement and curiousity and thoughtful interest all rolled up into a vibrant spark. The first card is closely inspected, then the next and the third, before up go her eyes to pay attention to Sparrow's description of each. It takes a moment to soak it all in before she's leaning back with a soft whistle. "That's a very interesting result," she mentions to Isabella. "I wonder what decisions you're facing that could be misleading." She doesn't touch on the sacrifices; in Gray Harbor, everyone sacrifices, and she knows that Isabella's had more than her fair share.

Lilith has been here and listening and kind of distracted pleasant, but she'd been dealing with a thing at the shop via phone and text so she was up pacing to the hall and stuff a lot and can be heard on call part of the time trying to explain to someone named "Barney" how to use a computer. With a name like that and no computer skills, surely he's old. Which comes across later when she gets frustrated and snips, "It's not ninteen seventy eight anymore, Barnes, jeeeeeeez. What're you trying to do, give the shop items away? There's a difference between haggling and just crawling on your knees for cash, can you-- no, send me a picture." Pause, "Okay, we'll go over how to send a picture again." Pause, "Oh, okay." Pause, "... just send it."

Eventually, she gets a picture to send a loan value over, then comes to plop down and practically chug her drink just as Isabella is asking her question. She doesn't interrupt, she tilts her head to consider the cards and Sparrow's answers with a vague lift of her brow and a pensive tick of thought to her eyes. Then she looks at Anne with the wondering and breathes out a quiet 'huh' to herself before looking back at Isabella, a bit like a bulldog protector.

"Well. We did say this was for fun, but if you need me to kick someone's ass and just don't know it yet, pre-emptively, I'm game."

Anne's silent glance towards her only makes Isabella focus on the cards that much harder in an attempt to hide the tightening of her jaw at the hinges when her Past card surprisingly hints at the things that she rarely ever talks about; her friends know about them, and the blue-eyed archivist even relating to them given her own situation with her siblings, but she wasn't prepared for the Tarot to punch her where it hurts immediately. The stricken expression, however brief it is, vanishes with a careful swallow of the amazing red that Anne has left on the table, and drags her green-and-gold eyes away from the Past and to the Present...

...and that's interesting, too. Not that she puts much stock on oracular endeavors to begin with, but Anne's query towards that draws a furrowed-brow look. "I...I don't know," she tells her historian friend quietly - and despite her skepticism, she finds herself attempting to look back at what could be possibly conning her into something inaccurate, or inadvisable. Lilith's offer has her looking up to the other brunette, a brilliant grin directed her way. "You'll be one of the first I'll call. But yeah, that is interesting. The Future Card is, too." She does look a little relieved at its interpretation - someone is low-key freaking out over her dissertation defense. Pulling out her smartphone, she takes a quick picture of her spread, and starts typing out notes.

"Anyway, there, I went first. What about you, Anne? Lil? Who's next? I'm curious, also."

Sparrow watches while the cards are considered. It's not always easy to tell when she got something right, but there's enough here--and not enough protest--to inspire a little pride in her smile. And a bit of nomming on celebratory chocolate, washed down with a little bit of that lovely red. Way nicer than what she'd hoped to get for these services, and that just makes her smile grow. Following Isabella's cue when she prompts the others to step up, she gathers up the cards and starts shuffling again, curiosity flicking between Anne and Lilith without even the littlest hint of impatience. She's got sweets and cheese and drinks and comfortable company. It's an alright way to spend a night.

There's a light laugh at Lilith's offering to kick ass, Anne turning her grin up to the woman. "Definitely don't call me. I'm not kicking anybody's ass any time soon," she says playfully enough, even if there's a squint down to the inconvenient boot on her leg. There's no kickiing in her future .. not if she wants to walk on two legs again any time soon. But then she looks back to Isabella, focusing on the woman for a tick or two as she digests the information - then, with a swallow of wine, she scoots back to the edge of the couch. "I'll go next," she volunteers, pursing her lips together contemplatively as she eyes the deck of cards. "I guess my question is.. will I find what I'm looking for?" Her own question makes her wrinkle up her nose. "Is that too vague?"

Lilith grins at Isabella and lifts her chin upward like she's a fancy piece of ass-kicker here in an Addington apartment with wine glass in hand, setting her pinky out as she looks between the ladies. Then she finishes what's in her glass, and really, if they didn't know better, given how she looks like a brunette barbie doll as a whole, she wouldn't much look like she'd be kicking any more ass than Anne with her state of cripple. Which... Lilith keeps somewhat side-eyeing like a distraction. After refilling her glass, the woman tugs on her angora sapphire sweater dress hem while resettling to cross heel-booted foot into dangle with one leg over the other, and she considers Anne's follow up wondering.

"I mean, I'm not the expert, but I imagine it depends on if you really know what you're looking for or have in mind when you ask. Like a mental ping point for the cosmos. Then again, I guess people also sometimes find something they never know they need or want, too. But hey, at least you have a question in mind. I certainly can't think of one to save my life, specifically, so go Anne." Lilith gestures with her glass to Isabella indicatively and fondly while commenting dryly, "This one probably came with twenty five questions in order of importance 'cause Bella."

Then she hushes enough to let Sparrow do the reading.

"I don't know. I'm no longer fooled by your height and your petite stature," Isabella remarks to Anne with a laugh. "I know how mighty you actually are." She winks at her friend teasingly there, because she knows precisely what she's referencing. With her wine polished off, she refills her own glass, and starts topping off all the other ladies' glasses because a good red is not a thing to waste.

When she gets to pouring more into Lilith's, she recognizes the look over her near-violet eyes, and her own expression softens in unmistakable affection. "By comparison, you're not fooling anybody." As far as ass-kicking is concerned, despite her delicate looks, she would put plenty of her money on the Winslow woman any day. Though at the dry and affectionate comment - and an accurate one at that, the archaeologist laughs appreciatively. "Christ, maybe I am getting predictable," she replies. "I'm going to have to switch it up before any of you get too bored with me. Maybe I'll be the one popping out of the cake next time, with nipple tassles swinging away."

With Anne's question posed, she can't help the curious look swung the historian way - because this wouldn't be the first time she has thought that, why her friend seems so invested in her investigations. But she silently waits for Sparrow's reading now that her query has been posed to the cosmos.

Sparrow gives her head a little wobble as she takes in Lilith's theory. "Way I look at it? The cards are gonna tell you what they're gonna tell you, and all you're offering is the context. Which means you're handling that half of the interpretation. I can only take you so far. More internal than external, I guess." Her gaze shifts to Anne as she offers the deck over for cutting, should she care to finish that portion of the ritual, and clarify, "Which is to say that it's not too vague, no. Cuz you'll know." Which might be pretty much exactly what Lilith said, just colored a little bit differently. There might be a quiet snort somewhere in there for the exchange about ass-kicking and who's not fooling whom, but she's trying to present as somewhat almost kind of a little bit professional here.

Once the deck is back in hand, she spends a couple seconds focusing on the question at hand--even if she said just a minute ago that the context was all personal, pbfth to consistency--then deals out a trio of cards again, left to right: the King of Swords, reversed, the profile of a man, all electric blue and feathers, with a sword overlaid in red; the Emperor, dressed in red, crowned, eyes forward; the Knight of Wands, reversed, mounted and armored with a backdrop of fiery orange, the horse looking almost haunted. A few seconds tick past before she realizes that maybe, ya know, she should say something and flicks a look up toward Anne then back down to the cards. "First thing? Very masculine spread. And while that could represent male figures in your life? It also reads a lot like fumbling. Uh." She can't help the grin, the brief sputter of laughter before she corrects wryly, "Not because they're men," in case that wasn't clear. "But because masculine energy, in tarot, anyway, is about action, initiative, but you've got two of 'em reversed. False starts. Dead ends. Failure." Which isn't the whole of her reading, by any measure, but she needs a second before getting to the rest, pausing for a swig of wine.

"I understand what you mean," Anne says to LIlith with a light tip of her head, eyes drifting back down to the cards as Sparrow pauses to let her cut. There's no hesitation here - she cuts the deck with a show of faint confidence, adding: "I do know what I'm looking for. Let's see what the cosmos have in store." Then she waits, taking a few sips of her wine glass as Sparrow lays out the cards and begins her explanation. Somehow, she manages not to choke on her wine - but her eyes subtly bulge at the talk of masculine energy, fumbling, and false starts. This is an answer which requires another drink - this one deeper than the casual sips she was taking earlier. But, after she lowers her cup and licks the wine off her lips, she manages a very vague: "I see."

"Just the fact that you thought of that to do with Joey Kelly was... hah. You've spared yourself some tassle time personally before you become predictable, fear not." Lilith laughs aloud suddenly and makes a 'cheers' gesture in thanks for the wine top off. It really is a lovely red, which she also speaks to briefly, even though high fallutin' taste for wine really isn't entirely her strong suit. Mostly she likes the warm buzz, even when it tastes like 'ugh' hobo wine. Which she might be starting to feel given some subtle coloring at the tops of her cheeks and edges of her ears, along with the backwards lean of ease into her seated posture while leg crossed.

There's a tip of her head in nod to Anne's certainty of search, then she half watches the other woman while the results are told by the cards, blowing out a little 'whew' to the reading when it's done. Then, after pressing her lips together and watching Anne and the other two women in turns, she knocks a hand back through her hair and sits forward over her lap while swirling the remains of her wine glass, "Okay, so if we don't have a question and just want a general reading, as to the state of affairs, that's okay too? Because I really am coming up kind of blank or rather dread to ask too much specifically because this place. You know?"

"I still need to corral Nicole for pictures, which I'll send to everyone," Isabella tells Lilith with a laugh, toasting glasses with her a little bit and flashing her a wink. She, too, seems to be in a growing, glowing good mood. She takes a hearty pull from her glass, though once Sparrow launches in her reading, her attention gravitates back to Anne's reaction, attempting to gauge from it just how closely Sparrow hits the mark. Masculine energy, she gets - the fumbling, she can see. But false starts? She takes it all in carefully, expression softening - a telltale sign that indicates that in spite of the historian's vague reply, she knows that the dart hit the board at the very least.

She's waiting for Sparrow to come to the conclusion of Anne's reading - she still doesn't know what it all means, or whether her friend would find a favorable answer. But with Lilith's query, she falls quiet and waits for the expert to field it.

Whatever Sparrow might take from Anne's minimal reaction, there's still a hint of apology in her expression for that initial overview. Easier, then, to answer Lilith, to nod encouragingly and assure, "Yeah," she knows how weird this place gets. How it might twist things. "Totally okay to keep it as open-ended and nonspecific as you want." For all that they're talking about familiar friends, she doesn't chime in. Curious, to be sure. Listening? You betcha. But it's not her business. She focuses, instead, on what is.

"This guy in particular?" Looking toward Anne, the redhead points to the upside down king, cold and sharp. "Truth misused." She pauses, not sure if that's the best way to express the concept, but no correction comes. "First card, facing backward. I'mma say he's soundly in the past or should be. Still a warning not to get so analytical and objective that you, uh." Her expression sinks heavily, like some understanding's just hit that might have very little to do with the querent. "Lose sight of other truths, but." She flashes Anne an apologetic look as she admits, "I might be projecting there."

Tempted as she might be to dwell on whatever lesson has just clicked in her own head, she moves on to the Emperor. "It's kinda at odds with this guy. Very here and now and present, and. Still really head-over-heart? But grounded. Confidence within your own intellect, your own power. Authority. Might be a steadying presence. But." She shrugs a shoulder, grin flashed. "Why shouldn't it be your personal power?" Brows arch as she points to the third card, armored and upturned. "Cuz it seems to me like an answer to him. He's all frustration. Movement in the wrong direction. Energy with no outlet. That's the future. That's the answer. And it says wait. It says you're gonna hate this. But he--" Back to the Emperor. "--says you're where you need to be. Own this. Here. Now. Wait." Only the arch of her brows belies the confidence in her voice, an inquiry in that expression.

"Truth.. misused?" Anne repeats that point with a small frown twitching at the very corners of her lips, but she doesn't press for further understanding. She just takes the rest of the reading in with that frown staying in place, neither deepening nor diminishing at the end. "All right," she tips her head into a small nod, takes a drink of her wine, and leans back to slouch into the couch as she considers her reading. "Thank you," this to Sparrow is spoken genuinely, before she looks up to Lilith and lifts a brow. "I guess this means it's your turn." Anne will just be over here, drinking her wine and thinking about what the universe is trying to tell her.

"Huh. Neat. That's... fairly more detailed than I expected." Lilith comments aside to Isabella after a grin for pictures, hand again knocking through her hair with carding of fingers at grasp and tousle. It's almost like an anxious tick or nervous energy, which is a little strange, especially given Lilith's lackadaisical for-fun air about the whole date and affair of card readings. She's quiet again while listening to the details tacked on in further possibility of interpretation, and then she squints at Anne for a moment, speaking with dry humor, "You make it sound like going into the dunk tank, is that intentional? Maybe it's just me."

She clicks her tongue once and looks at Isabella, breathing out a laugh and draining her wine before her shoulders roll in readiness, complete with a let's do this wiggle in her seated position. Then she explains what might be up after listening to the other two readings at length like she has, "I thought the other day about how everything else in the world is possible in this place, then I got to thinking hell, what if these are cards of truth or something. But yes, it's my turn, my body is wine-soaked and ready, which honestly was the plan for going last all along, see. Tactics."

Then, after a bat of her lashes, Lilith tilts her head to look at the cards, instructing them, "... be nice. Or something." Afterwards, she flits her eyes to Sparrow and waits for the general style reading.

Sparrow had offered warning, both written and verbal, that she might not say anything people want to hear, but that doesn't keep that vague apology from her expression as she watches Anne sink back into the couch, into thought. On the bright side? Probably means she's getting at least something right, right? She tries to console herself with that thought as she collects the cards, as she snags a piece of cheese, a swig of wine, her glass only just beginning to near empty. Lilith's approach brings her smile back, a snort of laughter preceding, "Little weird they'd end up in my hands, but. I like your tactics."

As with the last two times, she shuffles the offers the deck to the querent to cut, the ritual consistent. A little bit of energy for the cards, right? Can't hurt. A moment of focus and then three cards go down, left to right, just like before: the Two of Pentacles, a man against a splash of blue juggling two golden discs; the Knight of Cups, reversed, a forward-facing figure, armored and mounted, overlaid by an orange fish, a blue watermark haloing their heads; the Four of Cups, a hooded woman with her eyes closed, surrounded by fog, smoke. The first card gets a look that she can't quite contain, like she's calling it on having the nerve to show up here, but it's not the card's fault. And probably has very little to do with Lilith or her reading. Focus, Sparrow.

Looking to Lilith, she points to the Two and calls him, "This motherfucker," like he knows what he did. "Has a lot to say. As a general rule. And I wanna tell you what he has to say about the benefits of a very healthy sex life, but. Pretty sure you know." There's not even a grin to go with it. Like that's what the card says. "But mostly? He says you're kinda a chameleon. You know how to be what you have to be when you have to be it. Proven. Given the past placement. Something you gotta keep in mind moving forward." She gestures from one card to the next, focusing on the fishy knight. "Cuz this guy? Your here and now? Says something doesn't smell right. Says you've got something good that's got something rotten in it. Says to trust your gut and be ready to adapt when the situation changes." Brows pitch upward as she moves on to the four. "Or doesn't. Which might be worse. Current trajectory could lead to stagnation, to the kinda contentment that feels empty. Ya know." Her lips purse wryly. "Nice."

Lilith looks vaguely amused in that helpless sort of way once Sparrow is off calling a card a motherfucker and giving him a look, because of course a motherfucker is in her card deck, of course he is. Then she looks more amused when it turns in passing to the benefits of a healthy sex life, which she admittedly has some commentary about the therapy of, the way she takes a breath and opens her mouth. But then she stops and hears the very word 'chameleon' with some sink in delay, which steals her amusement and brings a tiny 'heh' of noise out of her. There's a moment where she eyes her emptied wine glass wistfully, but instead of going for a refill, she plays with the Piaget rose pendant strung around her neck with the kind of modern pretty penny on it that there's little doubt where it came from given holidays passing.

After tapping her tongue against one of her canine teeth for a pensive push and beat, she settles back out of her forward lean and rests against the cushions for a cut-eyed beat of time, "Well. That's kind of creepy. Maybe expected here, too, but that's the lay of life right now, huh." She pauses and blows out a puff of air before grinning a little bit, "Sounds super cautionary more than bad anyway. I think I'd have been far more creeped out if it told me things were looking up. I know better. It's a gauntlet nowadays, all around, isn't it?"

Then she leans to refill her wine because now is a lovely time for a third glass, "I don't suppose there's anything in that about finance potential or demise?"

Whatever other thoughts Sparrow might have in answer to Lilith's read of her reading, she can't help but hook into that last little bit, the off-hand question that might not even be seriously meant. With a hint of a grin, she flips a fourth card, the Six of Swords, reversed, showing a family in a boat rowing either toward or away from what might be a city in the distance. Easy. "You've got something unresolved there before anything gets better. Pushing into something new's gonna go bad for you until that's fixed." Whatever that might be. She doesn't know. She doesn't guess. She trusts it makes sense to Lilith and reaches for more chocolate instead.

The mention of a healthy sex life in Lilith's Past card has Isabella looking over at it, grousing comically, "Where has that been all my life?" But it's done in good humor and generally well-meant; she would not say the same for the few trysts she has had in her history before Alexander, and certainly she can't say the same now - either due to masculine appetites in general or the sheer determination of keeping up with a much younger girlfriend (for whatever reason, she is definitely not complaining). Still, her other friend's reactions here are interesting too, and she can't help but observe her. She knows about Miami, the work she had there - and down to the way she plays with the beautiful pendant around her neck. Little tells.

Creepy, she says. Accurate?

She doesn't want to pry but the curiosity on the archaeologist's features is not something she's able to hide easily. And when the fourth card is revealed...

"That's interesting," she remarks, scrutinizing the colors splashed on the stock. "I wonder what you could've left behind that would be that much of a hindrance?"