serg in fallen london
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He squints at them, looking from one to the other. Is this normal mirror behaviour? He's fairly sure it isn't.

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As he looks from one to the other, he may notice that when he's looking at one, his reflection in the other is even weirder.

Bigger, for one thing. Writhing. More limbs, or more accurately tentacles. It's hard to tell how it... works. But it looks familiar.

(The reflection in Heart's Mirror is still clearly dying, and the reflection in Dream's Mirror is still mad, even when they're tentacled beasts. These mirrors know what they're about.)

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Wait what. No. Wait. What.

He is pretty sure that normal mirror behaviour is not this.

Right???

Are there any mirrors in this tent that are not insane?

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There's this one over here, that shows him riding on the back of a giant batlike creature, holding a spear made out of a giant tooth and a length of polished wood! He looks older, and deeply satisfied with himself.

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He likes that one much better!

 

...does it still give him tentacles when seen out of the corner of his eye, though?

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Yep! Still riding the bat, but much more tentacular.

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That's concerning. He's concerned. It's not that he has any inherent objection to tentacles, really, but he likes his body and does not want to end up inadvertently betentacled. Granted he doesn't want to end up dead or insane either, but the business with the giant bat actually looks like an excellent future apart from the tentacle problem.

...oh hey, that's the giant bat, isn't it. The Vake. Does the creepy tentacle mirror think he can tame it? Does he trust the creepy tentacle mirror on this subject?? He thinks he perhaps does not trust the creepy tentacle mirror very much.

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The creepy tentacle mirror makes no comment, but he may be assured it is deeply hurt.

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If it wanted him to trust it, it should have given him better assurances.

He spends a little longer looking at the image of himself riding the creature, and then about half a minute trying to examine the tentacles out of the corner of his eye before he decides this activity is giving him a headache and stops.

Before he leaves, are there any other badly behaved mirrors hiding in dusty corners?

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There's a couple. One of them shows him playing cards against a monkey, for some reason. One of them shows him holding a diamond the size of a small dog, looking haunted. One of them shows him arm-in-arm with someone whose face doesn't exist.

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...well, that's better than death or madness, but definitely worse than riding a giant bat.

Okay, back out to the rest of the carnival he goes. Maybe the next interesting thing he encounters will be less bizarre and inexplicable.

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The ANATOMICAL EXHIBITION is still there, as is MADAME SHOSHANA the CLAIRVOYANTE.

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He goes for whichever has the shorter line. The CLAIRVOYANTE if they're comparable, because having just experienced completely unexplained cryptic nonsense, he's pleased by the notion of cryptic nonsense you can actually talk to.

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MADAME SHOSHANA's line is a bit shorter.

She looks at him as he enters her tent, and her eyes widen. "You!"

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"What?"

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"I've seen you, in my visions. The monster that wears a fair face! The lost son, the hot-hearted hunter, the smiling killer! What do you want from me?"

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He shrugs. "Nothing in particular, really, I just thought you might make more sense than the house of mirrors. —Wait, lost son? Whose lost son?"

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She grimaces. “Don’t know,” she admits. “S’not really an exact science. I just know that you’re somebody’s lost son, and that it's important. I might get a better handle on it if I read your cards?"

She picks up a deck of cards, then hesitates. She puts them back down, rummages around under her table, and takes out a different deck of cards. She offers him the deck. "Pick one, that'll signify you. Then I'll do a spread."

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He squints at the cards, then shrugs and grabs one.

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The card bears the image of a skeleton on a pale horse, holding a scythe in his fleshless grip. He rides over a field of bones and corpses.

Madame Shoshana frowns. "...Death. Oddly auspicious, all things considered."

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He looks at the card, thoughtfully.

"What's it mean?"

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"Transformation. A change which is a blessing in disguise. A clearing-out which makes way for something better. It's... actually very strange, getting it as a significator. Usually it refers to an event, not a person."

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"Well," he says cheerfully, "I woke up yesterday with no memories, so it actually seems kind of appropriate."

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"Ah. That would also explain why you want to know whose son you are, come to think of it."

She flicks seven cards onto the silk-covered tabletop, landing them in a horseshoe formation, and flips over the first. "The past..."

It bears the image of a woman, heavily pregnant and wearing a crown bearing twelve stars. She stands in a wheat field. The card is facing him, and thus backwards relative to Shoshana. "The Empress, Reversed. A woman, overprotective and tyrannical... resources aplenty, but no love. A classic for the beginning of a read; it usually indicates the querent's overbearing mother. Unfortunately there's no shortage of overbearing wealthy mothers in London, so the help the card offers you in particular is limited."

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He laughs.

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