ataraxionlogs | I've been a miner for a heart of gold

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I've been a miner for a heart of gold

CHARACTERS: The Lady Borgia turned fortune-teller and You.
LOCATION: Level one lounges!
WARNINGS: none expected!
SUMMARY: Palm reading. Yes, you've read right. Come give her your palm and she'll ~~make up~~ tell you your future!
NOTES: depending on who you are, she might be a bit more flirty than usual, perhaps somewhat bolder, because of the mask. also prose/action are welcomed!

[ She may have never worked and this may have not changed on the ship, but one could not say Lucrezia Borgia was idle.

She would read, she would write down all the texts she could remember; prayers, mythology, poems and sonnets. She would write them in black ink in pretty letters so they may be read later on by others.

She thought of writing her memories but found that she wished not to; memories were both a happy and a sad thing here.

Today, she found herself annoyingly idle and bored and decided it would not do.

With a sudden creative determination, she decided to become a fortune teller for a day. A game.

Borgias were known for their games; Lucrezia's were simply of the innocent kind. Or appeared to be, at the very least. More than anything, she wanted to know and to meet, to keep company and enjoy company. When reading ones palm, you may yet discover much about the person even without actually knowing the art of palm reading

She chose a seat at the side of the lounges, gold locks and a gown of pale pink silks. A girl in appearance, sweet and docile. Her grin was not quite that, mischievous and playful, challenging and perhaps secretive.

She would offer it to anyone who passed her. ]

Will you hear your fortune told?

[ Her tone is both serious and light enough to assure that it is naught but a game. But even a game can pass the hours. ]

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[ While she inspects his palm with the utmost care, she thinks about his eyes rather than the lines she's seeing. Red. A cardinal with eyes red as his robes, she remembers; her nightmare from the fog world. Red makes her think of blood; red is the color of Borgias. Red means blood and willingness to shed your own if you're a cardinal, others' if you're a military man.

This man is not a cardinal. She takes a guess. ]

You knew war, have you not? Mars has grasped your realm in his iron fist.

[AM raises an eyebrow, slightly surprised at the woman's observation. Of course, it was a very vague one, and that's how the acclaimed psychics would ensnare their customer base.]

Yes... Yes, I have. A fine observation.

[He's curious to hear more now. See how long she can go before she hits a wall.]

[ Vague, indeed. But she is proud of achieving even that. She remembers what her maid taught her, of lines and their meaning. But to be honest, Lucrezia is not sure if her method is any less effective. After all, if his realm was at war and yet he was in front of her, she could make her assumptions about his character. She thought of Juan; Juan Borgia the blood-thirsty some called him, always so eager to fight.

Only the strong survive wars. ]

I see a strong spirit, signore. I see a strong will and determination. Those will decide your future; better than predicament I can make. I would advice you to not be rash; anger is sometimes easier but it can spell a defeat.

[ the same advice she would give Juan, certainly. ]

[The advice could certainly apply to AM, of course. It's so incredibly vague that it could apply to many people. It's fairly clear that she's guessing, but he'll still play along. So he nods as she evaluates his palm, pretending to be interested.]

Indeed. Advice that I could certainly apply to my life.

You and many others, my own brother included.

[ each to their flaws and their needed advice, she thinks. She shakes the thoughts of Juan away, offers a smile that s all curiosity. ]

Are you left or right handed?

["And many others." A dead giveaway that this woman is merely guessing, or else is decent at reading his body language. How much can she read him, he wonders.]

Right-handed.

I have been told, signore that right-handed people are those who are filled with determination and ambition, seek fulfillment and stubborn. Whether those who are left-handed are more serene, more passive and more accepting.

But of course.

[Really? This is basic science. Nothing that could be explained by hogwash "fortune telling."]

You see, it is all a product of the human brain's hemispheres. The hemispheres control different functions, and each human has one hemisphere that dominates over the other. A human's dominant hand is usually the opposite of their dominant brain hemisphere.

[ a tiny frown crosses her face, obviously puzzled, she leans in her seat. ]

Such talk is what the others aboard the ship would call science, yes? One thing I never had the privileged of studying. Are you a man of science?

[ most men who are learned in such will not be war lords. It's quite rare to meet someone who knows both. ]

[It's basic science that he just explained, but he supposes that the majority of humans wouldn't know such a thing anyway. So many different worlds and time periods seem to converge here.]

I suppose you could say that. I do work in the science department, after all.

What does the science department do on the ship? Do you study it in the hopes of understanding it better?

Why does anyone study science, really?

Of course it's to understand it better, to make use of it. This large space vessel could not have been constructed had its technicians not studied the science behind it.

[But seriously, AM is starting to wonder if this lady has no idea about any part of science whatsoever.]

I met very few men who studied science, most of them on the ship. In my realm, there are few who study it, none of them women.

[ she leans on her hands, pensive. ]

Perhaps you could solve some of the riddles of this ship then, with your scienece.

Oh? Where exactly are you from, then? And... what year?

[He folds his arms slightly but cocks his head to the side slightly in curiosity.]

Believe me, my dear, that's what I intend to do.

Lucrezia Borgia of Rome.

[ the truth would be Lucrezia Sforza of Pesaro but she refuses to say it, refuses to acknowledge her husband here and the already non-existent loyalty she has to him. ]

How do you count the years in your realm, signore? In Rome, we count from the birth of Christ.

Lucrezia Borgia.

[He echoes the name back. It has a beautiful sound, rolling off the tongue. AM gives a slight smile at this.]

Ah, we also count the years from the birth of Christ.

Then in my Rome, fifteen centuries have passed since the birth of Christ; soon to be sixteen.

[Ah, AM is slightly surprised to hear that. It amuses him to imagine a Renaissance-era woman plunked in space.]

My, you come from long before my time.

Tell me, my dear, what was your reaction upon coming into space?

That I am in a quite vivid dream. Though even the finest minds of my Rome could not imagine such a journey; nor a ship that sails the sky.

[ the idea still excited her. ]

Quite.

[He nods in agreement. Even AM's own experience, though much more advanced in technology, had brought him to a state of disbelief.]

Well, thank you for the... fortune telling you did.

[Insincere, as he knows the whole thing is a farce. And he thinks nothing of the woman before him. She would be useless to him; knows nothing of technology, and he has little interest in the human cultures of the time. But playing along with this silly game provided mild amusement.]

Your name, signore?

[ for the sake of her own curiosity more than anything else. She thinks he is one to watch, the man with the red eyes. ]

My name is AM.

[He speaks it with little hesitation. Even if the name might sound odd to her.]

AM. And nothing more.

[ a smile, acceptance. ]

Then I shall bid you good day.

Yes, nothing more.

[He nods, a small smirk still on his face.]

Good day to you too, Lucrezia Borgia.

[Aaaaaaaaand he leaves.]

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I've been a miner for a heart of gold

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