Cinnamon glances over at Shepard. "...you seem familiar."
Shepard blinks at you.
Shepard says: I get that a lot.
Shepard leans forward, narrowing his eyes. "Let's see..."
Cinnamon adjusts her glasses and moves over a bench, leaning forward and sniffing the air near Shepard. "Books, ink. New parchment. Oiled wood, salt water, sweat."
Shepard smirks, raising a brow. "Worgen, then? Hm." He mirrors Cinnamon's actions, nose twitching as he begins to name a few scents: "There's... tea. Earthy aromas. Books, too. And- cinnamon." A snort clears his nostrils.
Cinnamon laughs quietly and holds her wrist up to her nose, inhaling deeply. "Cinnamon, yes. You... hmm. Mustn't have smelled like this in the wild, unless you were feral in a library, which is enviable but entirely doubtful."
Shepard says: If only I could -be- so lucky; I was confined to the outskirts of Gilneas, running through the woods. Dodging guard patrols instead of a Librarian's stern gaze.
Cinnamon says: There weren't enough libraries in those woods. If I'd had... mm, I don't know that I'd have needed a ritual, had I found myself in a library. I might've found myself back again with little trouble at all.
Cinnamon smiles sheepishly and adjusts the pencils in her hair, sending half of it tumbling down her shoulders.
Shepard says: Mm, a woman after my own heart. Not often you find another Gilnean with a modicum of civility and a taste for literature.
Cinnamon says: I've found that unfortunately true around here. Not very many come into the library, at least, and the ones that do usually are just lookin' for something tawdry.
Cinnamon says: ...granted, I don't mind the tawdry stuff myself, but.
Shepard says: A book is a book. Another world, a bounty of information... even the most mundane texts make me happier than a Goldshire whore during the evening.
Cinnamon laughs, pressing her hands against her cheeks to cover the flush that comes to them. "Well, I've not much experience with the latter, but you can hardly pass through my apartment from all the books I bring home with me."
Cinnamon says: Books and tea and cards.
Shepard says: I've no experience at all with whores- well. Not counting the ones that graze around Stormwind, taking a fancy to the fur-covered man sitting on a bench...
Shepard 's head hangs down, resting against his chest for a moment before he looks up. "But! Cards, you say?"
Cinnamon mutters something about charming paladins attracting whores as well, though she laughs at Shepard's response. "Not playin' cards, mind."
Shepard says: Oh, I never had an interest in those to begin with. What kind, though?
Cinnamon says: Fortune cards.
Shepard says: Fortune? Is that right... Light, I haven't had my fortune read in -years-. Not since- well. Gilneas.
Cinnamon says: Not many people have their fortunes read with frequency. Where in Gilneas did you say you were from?
Cinnamon begins to dig in her bookbag as she asks this, spilling several books on the ground along with several notebooks, before finally coming up with a well-loved pack of fortune cards.
Shepard says: Don't believe I ever did, but... Blackwald. Lived with my grandmother.
Cinnamon pauses in shuffling her deck and looks up. "...the Lovellses?"
Shepard says: That- would have been us, yes.
Shepard narrows an eye, leaning forward. "You knew us, then?"
Cinnamon nods eagerly, also leaning forward. "When you were wee, you had those sleepin' problems! Mum and Dad... we were practically neighbors! Sort of, I mean. As much as people can be neighbors in the Blackwald."
Cinnamon says: D'you remember the Diggorys?
Shepard cranes his head to the right, curiously sizing Cinnamon up. "I- do, yes..." His eyes begin to dart from side-to-side, a measure of familiarity slipping onto his face.
Cinnamon flushes slightly and turns to shuffling her cards. "I'm Cinna. The oldest."
Shepard gapes a little, his head slowly nodding. "... Light, is it really?" He points to himself. "Shepard- though you probably already knew that." He flicks his wrist, snorting.
Cinnamon looks up from the cards again, smiling. "Yeh, I did. I have to admit, I didn't expect to ever see you again, and wouldn't have recognized you if not for the smell... which sounds amazingly creepy, I'm sorry."
Shepard holds a hand up, chuckling. "Well. Under normal circumstances it would, but we're in Stormwind." His hand now rises, gesturing to the area surrounding them.
Shepard says: And remarkably, that was the sanest, most normal thing I've heard all day.
Cinnamon says: I'm happy to oblige. You must spend a lot of time around this Square, then?
Shepard says: I'm the resident gargoyle who dispenses snippets of common sense and logic. Not an easy job.
Cinnamon says: I could've used someone like that a few times, honestly. Assumin' Lio isn't always here to assist with your duties.
Shepard says: We alternate, really. I'm normally here more often, but his assistance is welcomed.
Cinnamon says: Ah, I'm afraid I have to take some responsibility for him being away lately. Or, well. I actually can't take responsibility, since he was the one who insisted on stayin'.
Shepard says: Hm? Is that right?
Cinnamon coughs awkwardly and nods, scratching the hair at the back of her head. "Yeh, found him by accident. Only I think he wants to keep it down, either in a gentlemanly fashion or because he's embarrassed."
Shepard 's lips tug into a grin, but he glances away. "Mm, hard to say with him."
Cinnamon says: Is he really as lecherous as he seems?
Shepard says: I haven't known him that long to truly say. I know he was married at one point, and has commented that he's 'enjoying' his status as a bachelor.
Shepard says: Well, not married- engaged.
Cinnamon says: He told me as much. He's... well. He is. I shall leave it at that.
Shepard says: He's a good man, underneath it all. But even I find it difficult to sift through that smoke-and-mirror show.
Cinnamon says: Mm, it's difficult to tell when he's bein' sincere and when he's playing around. But... anyway, would you like your fortune read?
Shepard smiles warmly, nodding. "I'd love that."
Cinnamon grins and finishes shuffling the cards. She beckons Shepard over to the bench, shifting to make room for both him and the deck, which she spreads before her.
Cinnamon says: Think of what you'd like to know and choose five cards.
Shepard slides off the planter and drifts to the bench, sitting down quietly. "Hmm..."
Shepard clicks his tongue, nodding as he follows instructions -- five cards are chosen.
Cinnamon takes the rest of the deck and lays it aside. She sets the five cards out in order. "The first card relates to your distant past," she explains and flips it over.
The card displays a man in a red cloak walking away from eight golden cups under a moonlit sky: the eight of cups.
Cinnamon says: According to this, you lost interest a ways back in something that was very important to you. It wasn't your choice... you -had- to abandon something you loved deeply and devoted yourself to. You sought the temporal in place of the eternal.
Shepard flicks an ear, nodding. He sits in silence, waiting for Cinnamon to continue.
Cinnamon holds her hand over the second card. "This represents your recent past." She flips the card over; it shows a wreathed man riding a horse, surrounded by celebratory staves. The six of wands.
Cinnamon says: ...but after that, things started lookin' good for you. Recently, too. You've resolved something important to you, and that makes you happy. It was a great struggle gettin' where you were, but you've realized some hopes and desires of yours.
Shepard shifts in place, his sense of wonder growing by the minute.
Cinnamon moves on to the third card. "This represents where you are now." She flips the card over to reveal two peasants huddling in the snow beneath a stained glass window: the five of Pentacles.
Cinnamon says: It looks like your business is goin' through a difficult time right now. You're facin' some hardship or another. Whatever it is, you're in need of comfort and need to only look right beside you to find it, only you don't always realize that.
Shepard is now awaiting the next card with bated breath, looking very much like an excited child.
Cinnamon chuckles at Shepard's reaction. "How am I doin' so far?" she asks, pushing her glasses up on her nose.
Shepard says: ...eerily accurate.
Cinnamon grins sheepishly and moves on to the next card. "Then I hope this is good news; this is your immediate future." She turns the card over, revealing five young men fighting with sticks. The five of staves.
Cinnamon says: ...huh. It looks like you'll be competing for...-something- in the immediate future. Not for anything important; if anything, it's for the fun of competition, and everyone involved will be good sports about it.
Cinnamon says: It will be stressful and filled with small disputes, but ultimately, it'll bring out the best in everyone involved.
Cinnamon says: Now, this last card is technically your "fortune"--it's the far-reachin' future.
Shepard has simply stopped breathing, eyes wide and urging Cinnamon to finish his reading.
Cinnamon turns over the final card to reveal nothing but eight rods soaring through the air above a peaceful landscape: the eight of staves.
Cinnamon says: Hmm. This says that in your future, you'll see a sudden release of raw energy. You'll be more powerful than you could've imagined, quick about decidin' things about love, life, and everything. And those decisions will bring you rapidly towards your goals.
Shepard exhales, looking relieved. "Ah, Light... some good news!" He throws his head back, cackling.
Cinnamon grins, gathering the cards and placing them with the rest of her deck. "A good reading, then?"
Shepard says: Accurate -and- uplifting. That was wonderful.
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