Unorthodox Fortune Telling


miranda_icon.gif mortimer_icon.gif

Scene Title Unorthodox Fortune Telling
Synopsis Mortimer meets Miranda, she reads his fortune and aura, they go to Coney Island, then they do it in his hotel room. This was a good day.
Date August 29 2009

Various locations!

It's the middle of the afternoon, and Mortimer is just looking down as usual, wearing his blue jeans, light blue denim buttoned up shirt, and his suit jacket that's usually worn open. His black boot kicks a can on the ground, hands in his pockets. Cassidy's gone, at least relationship-wise, thanks to that British bastard. Sanity is possibly the worst thing that's ever happened to him. Tracy is still an emasculating tease. And worst of all? Under his left black glove, he still has that clockwork arm. So he's just shambling along, trying to figure out what's next, and where his life could possibly go from here.

An afternoon off, or it should be for Miranda. But, a favor is called in by her boss, that has sent her down to Chinatown. With a deep breath, the woman heads along the sidewalk, taking in the various window displays as she goes, though she seems also to be keeping an eye alert to the people around. Finally spying the man who stands off to the side, her steps turn, taking her by him, her gaze now upon the man, studying him… and his aura… picking up on his current emotions, and relative health in the moment. There's a simple smile upon her lips, curling them upwards.

Confused, lost, generally unhappy would best describe Mortimer at the moment, eyeing the woman who seems to be staring at him out of the corner of his eye. Mortimer Alex Jack, part-time stalker, rarely finds himself stalked, so this is an interesting situation. A part of him possibly wonders how he'd react if he was still insane. Nothing is said yet, he simply keeps walking, waiting to see if this woman is going to make some sort of move.

The reading is easy, the colors of his aura telling her much as they flicker and pulse. Finally, after a moment, Miranda allows herself to approach him, soon to hail him, "Sir.. would you be interested in knowing your future?" She questions, her hand having pulled out a worn deck of cards from her purse, shuffled in her hands like a magician or Vegas dealer. A bit of flare to go with the act never hurts.

Mortimer stops, turning around to face her, giving her a once over. For a fortune teller, well… not bad at all. "I'm interested, but I don't have much money to spare. I can tell you Call of the Cthulhu from memory if that's as good as money."

Miranda seems to consider, but then shrugs, "No money. I do it for free.. " A glance to a nearby food cart, "You can buy me a stick of chicken?" Fair enough. Only a few dollars! Shuffling the cards in her hands, she steps closer, and holds them out to him, "Draw three cards, will you please?" And to note, these are regular playing cards, not tarot or anything.

"You're gonna read my future with these?" Mortimer is fairly sure he's never heard that before, but he plays along, drawing three cards, holding them away from both of them until he's instructed on what to do. "What next?"

"Yes, I will. You know, the Romany used playing cards long before tarot cards came into fashion. And they are far easier to get than tarot cards, and often cheaper as well." Miranda comments with a smile and a wink. As he chooses his cards, she slips all the others back together from their spread in her fingers, tucking them into a pocket of her purse. Holding her hand out, she says, "Now, if you will hand the over, I will tell you what they mean for you?"

"I can't say I've heard that before, I guess I'm a bit rusty on my lore." Mortimer hands over the cards, looking her over once more. "So, what's your name? You can call me Jack." he introduces, figuring she's interesting enough to warrent names.

"They were using cards before the 18th century, when tarot cards got popular, then started using both." The woman says before she offers, "Theydon't use the whole deck, just from Ace down to the 7s.." Which would explain why the deck didn't seem 'full'. When asked, she looks up, "Miranda." As she takes his cards, she looks over them, a brow to raise upwards, "Interesting.." The first card she shows him, would be Ten of Spades, "You are feeling lost, unhappy with something. Either the loss of freedom, or perhaps a journey that hasn't gone the way it should have.." The next card, is another Clubs, but this one the Seven. "Oh, a seven.. the sevens are special, often given more.. and in particular, this one would signify what we would call, your tears - You face decisions or arrangements that need to be made. Perhaps suspenseful.. " Barely does she look up to him, to read how he reacts to the revealings so far she's given to him as she turns over the last card. Another black card, though this one is the Queen of Clubs, "And this one, shows to you a dark friendly woman, who may help you, or become a friend."

"You're very good." Mortimer compliments, eyes shifting to one of the shop windows, expression dark. He doesn't appear angry, though whatever's bothering him is suddenly showing on his face. "And that's also the most creative pass a woman has ever made at me, but, it's something I could use right now." he adds as a small smile forms, looking down at her now.

"Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment." Miranda offers as she slips the three cards into the pocket with her others. Soon, however, she laughs aloud, his words to draw it out along with a flash of a grin, "Are you sure it was a pass?" She questions slyly, amusement to show in her gaze as she smirks at him, "Perhaps it was.. perhaps it wasn't.." A tease, and she follows his gaze briefly, but soon turns back to him as they stand there, people often passing them by. "Well.. shall we get that chicken on a stick? Perhaps a drink.. who needs coffee when you get such delicious food on the side of the road around here?"

Mortimer reaches for her hand, already starting to head for the stand with the chicken on a stick. "I'm a big fan of wishful thinking, I'll keep telling myself it's a pass." he answers, laughing and reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "I could use something alcoholic, but I've been afraid of trying this Chinese stuff they have around here, who knows how strong it is."

As he reaches for her hand, Miranda allows him to take it, curling her fingers with his as they begin to walk towards the cart nearby. "It will, all in good time, Jack." She assures him before murmuring, "That which does not kill us, makes us stronger, would you not say?" The question is asked as they reach the cart, and she chuckles, "It all depends on what you get. They have some stuff that is similar, from what I understand, to Japanese saki. I'm sure we could ask the man.." Gesture towards the cart vendor who is currently pulling out food from the steaming holder to fill an order of another man.

"I said I'm hoping it's a pass." Mortimer chuckles, having a short exchange with the vender about alcohol, which involves much misunderstanding until he has two cups of clear liquid, offering one to her while the guy prepares the chicken. "But you're right, I hope my situation passes too. I don't know what to do lately. I have this clean slate, but my ex is having so many problems she can't date me anymore, so here I am, walking around Chinatown, nearly broke and sleeping in a hotel my friend is paying for."

With the correction, Miranda actually seems to blush a touch, "Oh.. well.." She laughs further, "Perhaps it was.." Studying him as they stand in line waiting for the man in front to move on, she murmurs, "Guess I have to stand out somehow.. " Intrigued by him, she takes the cup when he hands it to her, and then listens quietly as he speaks, "No work? What do you usually do?" She questions, curious as she stands aside, letting him pay ofr things before they set abotu walking, or finding someplace they might sit down with the procured food.

"I've been around, trying to maybe get into some sort of music career." Mortimer answers before taking a seat on a nearby bench, noding to the spot next to him. Of course Linderman would have said he's an MIA worker, he wouldn't have specified what his actual job was. He's also known to have virtually faked his own death somehow, so of course wouldn't be going by the name Mortimer. "You do anything other than fortune telling?"

"Music?" This seems to intrigue the woman as she passes by him to take the offered seat on the bench on the other side of him. Seated, with chicken in one hand, and drink in the other, she nibbles on it as she listens, "Don't play music myself, but I do enjoy dancing to it whenever I get the chance." She does move with a hint of grace, that might suggest she's a good dancer. When asked, Miranda shrugs, "Receptionist. I do the answer phones and file paper thing."

"I might get set up with a library job soon, until things get a bit better." Mortimer takes off his right glove to hold the stick for the chicken, taking large bites. He doesn't seem to remove his left, seeming to move it considerably less, as if something's wrong with it. "You're the first person I've really spoken to in a few days, I'm starting to feel like a recluse, or maybe a hobo, except I don't have any beans."

"The library would prove to be a quiet sort of place.." Miranda teases him before she shifts, turning towards him a little as they sit there, nibbling on the chicken, and talking. The little things are noted about the man to fill in the blanks of what she's been told about him. "I've been like that at times. Never fun. Generally, it ends with me going out, dancing the night away, and getting just enough tipsy to feel good."

The cup in Mortimer's gloved hand is lifted for a sip, which causes him to squeeze his eyes shut. "This stuff is strong, makes beer taste like watered down water." He smiles at the mention of someone else knowing what it's like, raising his cup in agreement. "I've just been reading lately. I don't have the heart to get drunk and pick up a woman or anything, I'm missing my ex, can't get over it, still fresh I guess."

A glance to her own cup, and Miranda laughs, soon to take a careful sip herself. She sighs, "Just perfect with the chicken though." Her gaze seems to go towards someone passing by, following them, her gaze slightly distant, as if perhaps caught by an idle thought, though at his words, she blinks and glances back to him. "Sorry to hear. As the song says, breaking up is never easy. My last ex and I split up like.. over two years ago. Just haven't found anyone since, interesting enough." A shrug passes before she nibbles again on the chicken.

"Not sure I could go two years, not sure I can go two months." Mortimer shakes his head, chowing down on his chicken quite quickly, sitting back and relaxing. "But I know it's over now, the breakup was what was best for her, so now it's just me, doing… whatever I'm doing right now. Sorry for dumping all of this on you."

"Oh, that's not saying that I haven't had a few flings here and there, just nothing.. lasting." Miranda corrects him with a grin, laughing even after a moment. Finishing off her chicken, the stick is thrown into the nearby trash and she looks back to him, "We might be strangers, but I might be the dark female who could be a friend.. and sometimes, it helps having a sympathetic ear to listen. Helps you find the path you need to walk to get through things."

"I haven't even had that since the breakup. Let's just say, well, I lost my charm." Mortimer's charm being absolute insanity, a thing that was great for bold and cooky pickups. He downs his drink, then holds his forehead as he waits for the burning to stop, gasping deeply. "So, in your professional fortune telling opinion, what do you think I should do?"

"Lost your charm? How do you mean?" Miranda questions, now curious about what he's talking about there. Sipping on th rest of her drink, she coughs delicately, blushing a touch for some reason. "Hmm.. perhaps you need to get out and have some fun? Instead of just sitting at the hotel and reading or flipping channels on the tv?"

"It's a long story. Let's just say I saw a therapist and now I'm a different person." Mortimer stands, sliding his glove back on and holding the hand out for her's, never touching her with the left hand. Guilt is suddenly forced to the back of his mind, in favor of a bit of boldness. "You wanna go have a night out, then go back to my place and watch a movie and order some room service?"

"I guess that's a good thing.. perhaps." Miranda offers, chuckling as she finishes off the drink, throwing the paper cup in the nearby trash can. As he slides his glove back on, she watches, but then takes the offered hand to rise from the bench. "I think I have a clear evening in front of me.. sounds like it could be fun." Hazel eyes meet his, the smile to broaden on her lips, "Any favorite places to go hit up?" Curious is she, the smile certainly warmer as she notices the shift in his emotions, "Even if we just hang out, that's fine with me." Assuring him perhaps, she doesn't have any designs on 'more' should he not feel like it. Strange, yes.

"I used to hang out on Staten a lot, can't say I know Chinatown too well. Guess we'll just have to explore?" Mortimer offers, guiding her down the busy street as his emotions start to shift inbetween anticipation, curiousity, and still a hint of guilt. Yeah, clubbing's clearly not the only thing he's thinking about, but at least he's not so much brooding anymore. "This beats reading Hitchhiker's Guide again."

"I've been here and there. Grew up in Church Hill though." Miranda fills in as they walk together along the street. "I don't know many places here, though if you'd be more comfortable over in familiar areas, we could grab a cab?" The woman is fairly easy-going, mixed with a hint of an impish nature at times. Laid back. And yet, certainly, she is intrigued by him even if this encounter started off with a favor asked of her. "I like the book.. movie wasn't too bad either. "

"I don't think you wanna go to Staten. Let's go hang out at Coney Island, I can't even remember the last time I got ripped off by a carnie." Mortimer stops at a corner, smiling as he scans the area, looking for a taxi. "And you sound like a woman who can appreciate a good book discussion."

"Coney Island it is then." Miranda answers, laughing, "Shall I try and win you a nice stuffed animal?" Teasing him as they head off to find a cab. To the last, she nods, "I do. It's nice to find someone who can actually talk about a book that isn't a Sport's Illistrated issue or the like."

When a cab finally stops for them, he looks over at her, then to the cab. "This is gonna be insanely expensive, uh…" Mortimer clears his throat, just a tad embarassed. "I don't think I can afford a ride all the way to Coney Island, but I can try and put whatever I have to it. And speaking of Sport's Illustrated, I was a bit of a soccer jock, though I was in the top of my class and in the chess club too. Amazing how far we fall."

"Don't worry about it. I can pick up the tab.. and should we do this again, you can pick up the tab once you get a job?" Miranda offers, reaching for his hand to offer it a squeeze, "Truely, it's alright, Jack." Slipping inside the cab, she waits for him to get in, and laughs, "I wasn't in much in school. Was a bit of a loner to some degree. Did my own thing." A brow lifts as she glances to him, "I don't think you've fallen that far, Jack. We all stumble at times."

"You have no idea." Mortimer steps into the cab with her, heading off to Coney Island. When they get there, they do most of what you'd expect. View the rip off exhibits like the world's smallest horse, eat cotton candy, ride a few rides, have some hotdogs, win prizes, etc. Amazingly, he's a poor shot, so he ended up winning her a tiny bear at one of the games.

A few hours later!

By the time they're getting out of the cab at the Holiday Inn that Tracy's paying for, he's feeling pretty satisfied, happy, generally relaxed. He seems to have forgotten most of his problems for the moment, chowing on a piece of cotton candy with a small bag of the few things he could afford to buy. "This night was just what I needed, Miranda. I think you're the first useful fortune teller I've ever met."

"Perhaps not, but I do know about stumbling here and there along the way." Miranda offers before they head off. The night is spent with a lot of laughter as she teases him about his shots - not that hers are /that/ much better than his. Certainly did not play sports except when forced to for PE in school so many years ago, or when tossing the ball with her nephews. She helps buy a few things here and there, waving off anything he might say on the contrary.

When they reach the hotel, Miranda slips out of the cab with her own bag of things, laughing still. His words bring a grin, "I'm glad you enjoyed the night. It was something I think I needed as well, in all honesty. I've forgotten what it's like to go out with an adult here lately. Been helping my sisters with their kids too much."

"I have a sister, don't think she has any kids." Mortimer says before a short pause, looking at the doors, then down at her. "So, this good night, or, you wanna come up?" he asks, suddenly feeling a little nervous, though the anticipation returns, the guilt seems to be gone, for now.

"I have two older sisters, and they each got a couple." Miranda supplies before they pause at the doors. Turning as he speaks, she laughs, "It's up to you. If you'd like company for a night cap, I'm game. If you've been overly stimulated with all the excitement, I understand if you might wish to unwind alone before bed." Her gaze meets his, hazel eyes to show she's good either way, though she does seem to wish to continue talking with him.

"I'd rather take a leap forward than go back to sulking in the shadows." Mortimer nods for her to follow, hands full. And he did indeed avoid ever touching her with his left hand for the entire night. The door is pushed open with his foot, and he presses his back against it to hold it open for her. "So, anything in particular you enjoy on television, or movies?"

"Then, to the light we go." Miranda murmurs, laughing still as she follows him inside the hotel. She steps past him as he holds the door open, a quiet word of thanks given to him as she passes him. "Hmm. I don't know what's currently being played, so.. can't answer that. I like a mix of things though, so I promise to not stick you with a chick flick."

Mortimer nods to a few of the workers, since they generally see him in and out almost daily. They go up the elevator, then he leads her to one of the suites, sitting his bag on a small table. It's much larger than your average room, though seems pretty lived in now. There's only one bed, a fresh fruit basket on the dresser, and generally anything else you'd expect in a hotel. "My friend's, uh, pretty well off. She's not just gonna give me money though, she's trying to get me a job."

A polite nod is given towards the workers as well by Miranda, not seeming to mind that anyone might think as she walks with him. Up the elevator, and to the room he claims as his own for now. A general glance is given about the place, taking in the size and lived in look. "What sort of things have you done in the past? Perhaps I could help you as well?" She sets her bag down, the purse left on a table as well.

"Well, the last seven years are kind of a blur, that's why I'm having so much trouble figuring out what I should do." Mortimer sits on the bed, grabbing the remote to start flipping through pay per view menus. "Whatever's gonna happen here tonight, you just need to know that there's a lot of shit that comes with me, some things I'm not gonna be able to elaborate on. So, this friendship? I wanna keep it simple, for your sake." There's anxiety in his aura, the feeling of anticipation still there, and the hazy beginnings of trust, as if he's about to go out on a limb to see if he can.

"I'm gonna show you something, try not to freak out, alright?" He removes his jacket first, then starts unbuttoning his shirt. His gloves are removed, though he's still hiding his left hand, and finally he takes his shirt off, showing that the entirity of his left arm below the elbow is mechanical. It has a thin armor-like shell, and under it are all sorts of gears as he moves the fingers. There's a strap that goes up the fleshy part of his arm and over his chest, likely to take the strain off his arm from the weight. It's far more advanced than any prosthetic on the market, at least as far as the construction goes. "I used to be Evolved, I built this when I lost my arm in a fight."

"Ah.." Miranda says as she turns about to face him, listening as he begins to speak. Reading his aura, she murmurs, "I can accept that, Jack. We're still strangers to some degree. In time.." Things might change. "As long as you can accept the same from me?" She finally moves to sit down on the bed with him, "I like you, Jack. I've had fun tonight. I'm curious to see how this might bloom."

But, as he continues, soon to begin stripping, she turns to watch him, her gaze to drop to the arm that is revealed to be… not a true arm. Freak? She doesn't, but she does move closer to him to reach out to touch the mechanical hand, then looks up at him, "Do you think this will bother me?" She wonders, only to take a deep breath, and sighs, "I am Evolved as well.. "

"I'm not anymore, I had my ability stolen." Mortimer corrects, more news for Linderman. He opens and closes the hand, showing her how it works. "I want a human arm again, but I haven't been able to find someone who can do that for me." Relief washes over him with her admission, earning a smile and the auras of comfort and trust strenghtening a bit. "What is it that you do, if you don't mind saying?"

"Stolen?" There's the sound of disbelief from Miranda as she repeats that, her eyes to widen a touch as she meets his gaze, "How? Who?" She continues to speak before taking a deep breath, a smile offered, a laugh to escape, "Well.. I'm a fortune teller.." She teases before answers, "I read auras, actually." She informs him with a wry smile, again to study him from where she sits next to him.

"Some old man, it's a long story. I hear he's dead now, so it's alright." Mortimer lays back on the bed with both hands behind his head, leaving the remote in her lap as he stares at the ceiling. "So, you can tell what kind of person I am?"

"Glad to know he's dead, but.. have you wondered if it's possible to get it back? Do you.." Miranda sets the remote aside, turning as he lays back on the bed so that she might peer at him curiously. "What was your gift?" She questions before leaning over him to meet his gaze, "No, not exactly. I can read… your emotions by the colors that I see in your aura. I can tell how healthy you are. If you're in pain. Things like that." She blushes, "Sorry though, if you feel I was sort of prying."

"It caused me more problems than it was worth. It was a kind of mechanical intuition, I knew how machines worked and I could build them, but it had a side effect that I'd rather not get into right now." Mortimer raises his fleshy human hand, placing it on her shoulder, then slowly slides it down her arm. "It's alright, if you came up here knowing my intentions, well, I guess it's flattering."

"I'm sorry to hear.." Miranda offers quietly before the touch of his hand comes, and her laughter escapes before nodding, "I knew you were interested, yes. As was I. But like I told you, I'm not looking to rush things, Jack. If they needn't be rushed." Her hand moves to trace his own hand, along his arm to brush fingertips to his cheek.

"I was leaning towards fling at first, but it looks like we really are gonna be friends after tonight, so I'm thinking we're gonna watch a movie and have a harmless sleep over?" Mortimer asks, his tone and one of his auras suggesting that he's perfectly relaxed about it either way, while a conflicting aura is clearly leaning toward his earlier anticipation, and yet another is just plain confused.

"I would like to be friends, Jack.. " Miranda admits quietly as she reads his aura, smiling before she moves to curl up at his side, laying her head on his shoulder. "I wouldn't mind staying over as well. As I said, it's been a while that I've had the pleasure of.. being with someone." She leaves it open as to how it might go, seeming quite comfortable with either choice.

"After tonight, we'll just call it a clean slate as friends. At least then we won't have some silly tension hanging over our heads." Mortimer finally decides, rolling over on to her so he can peer down into her eyes, the anticipation in his aura practically spilling over every other aura. "Last chance to back out." he playfully warns, trying to hide the hint of guilt that shows in his aura, something he's really trying to push through.

"Deal." Miranda answers, only to find herself rolled over to her back, her gaze to meet his, as he leans over her. His aura cannot be missed, and as such, she but smiles as she murmurs, "You do not have to feel guilty, Jack.. " She lifts up to brush her lips against his chin, "I would understand if you need more time."

To erase any doubts about the ending, they do it.

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