no subject

[ The rattling of the window and mysterious billowing of curtains do well to captivate the man any time uncertainty distracts him from the Tarot reading, but by the midpoint Vanessa has his full attention. She doesn't feign a ghostly voice or anything so crass; the only falsehoods are the sounds. Divining his past brings enough truth into the séance that he creates his own ghosts, and by the end he's begging for it to be over. Vanessa does her best to bury her sympathy deep down (they aren't real; you wouldn't do this if they were real). She takes his coin with a sorrowful look in her eye before he departs.

She stands there a little longer than necessary afterward. Does she feel regret? She shouldn't. She isn't Evelyn Poole. Vanessa didn't gain any pleasure out of this. If anything, it's left her taxed, and she feels she can barely stand straight without feeling faint. Eager to be done for the moment, Vanessa ducks away from the table to thank Fei for another job well done.

Now, perhaps, they can enjoy some of the evening together. She feels rather done with men for the night. They can be...exhausting. Fei is much easier to be around. ]

Unless something else occurs, I believe the night is ours.

(372 comments)

no subject

Post a comment in response: