Every so often within any individual's life, there came one of
those days. The kind of days that never seemed to end, where one terrible event after another occurred until, quite frankly, she just wanted to crawl into her bed and not wake up at all the next day. Her mentor had been on her case all morning, interrupting one of her potions till the brew had turned
sour before being blamed, entirely, upon her. While surely it was an annoyance, it was followed almost automatically by a rather long lecture by the lupine that'd taken to coming around her house on how men were vial nasty things Serafina shouldn't bother with at all. One thing added up to another till the young witch decided to abandon them both entirely for a dark nook within the richest bar in town. Frankly, nothing would make Serafina more content then to not have to return home tonight at all to deal with either such individuals. Her petite finger reached out, tracing the rim of her glass, the condensation moistening the young girl's flesh. For once, there were no fruity drinks in front of her, no sweet concoction to drown out the taste of the liquor. This time - she wanted to feel the liquor take hold, she wanted to be under it's sway.
A soft sigh graced the fair girl's lips as she effortlessly spread the cards out in front of her, the dark purple celtic symbols standing out against the black backgrounds of their backs. Slowly she picked a card out of the mess on her table, followed by another and then another till the most traditional of tarot card spreads laid out before her. Lightly her finger tapped on the card in the middle, her lips pressing in an almost grim nature. The girl picked up the picture of the hanged man within her fingertips. Her grey tinged gaze staring at it with distaste. Of
course she'd get this card. What the hell was she supposed to do with this? Surrender herself to
what? To her mentor? To her familiar? Because frankly she hardly wanted to deal with
either of them, much less try to think of things in their perspective! The world was hardly being fair to her tonight. Serafina slumped back into the cozy leather of the booth, the tarot cart still nestled within her fingertips.
With practiced ease, the young girl flicks the card, sending it flying cross the bar only to smack a patron right in the back of the head. The hanged man floated from side to side, landing face up upon the ground beside him. Immediately the young girl burrowed into her booth, a look of blantant guilt crossing her fair feminine features. Okay, she hadn't meant for
that to happen. Although really should she be very surprised it did? Maybe if she just placed her cards back in their nice inconspicuous stack, then he wouldn't notice that it had come from
her. Deftly she set about her task, her liquor almost entirely ignored as card after card was retrieved from their sprawled position upon her table. Hoping that, whoever he was, maybe he wouldn't be
too mad. Hell, maybe he hadn't even noticed.
serafina dubois