she's the kind of girl you can never please
As Alys shuffles her deck she lets her crossed foot bob in the air where nobody can see, expelling her anxious energy safely. She has known Seers before, and while Alys' magic is underdeveloped and her tarot vaguer, it takes a great measure of vulnerability and trust to submit herself to the draw of the cards. As the first is flipped she can feel her own heart squeeze as if feeling the swords newly pierced. She knows what they imply before Alys can explain, which only lends credence to the woman's abilities. Addiction in the present is certainly a way to put her current state of mind. Not precisely a complimentary outlook, but also undeniably accurate. Ru isn't anticipating the positivity implied in her future card, nor Alys pulling a fourth; one that hurts somehow more in its plainface honesty. Her eyes remain riveted to the cards, unblinking even as her eyes go dry. Only the soft touch to the back of her hand jolts her into the present.
Alys' eyes are made of a softer quality this time, dove-grey instead of stormcloud. Compassion and understanding that Hotaru has to force herself not to automatically resent as a defense mechanism. Slowly her hand turns halfway over, her fingertips gently gracing the soft inner skin of Alys' forearm in answering touch. "Do the cards provide guidance on how to achieve that?" Her voice remains blessedly in control, though her tone is quiet and weighted. "I have only just broken free of going through the mechanical motions of being alive. But I don't want to make the same mistakes as before." And she isn't sure which version of herself to pursue anymore; the young woman from Helovia who had taken the world to heel, the socialite who had first stepped into Caido and enjoyed every manner of fling and courtship, or this sad and worn matriarch that wears an ill-fitting facade of confidence.
Hotaru
