milliways_bar | (no subject)

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When Autor steps through the door today, his clothes remain the same: white pants, oversized gray sweater, and glasses. What changes are the ears. Not his, necessarily--those still remain human--but he sprouts fuzzy, gray, and pointed kitten ears on top of his head with a soft, "Oh!" The tail is also new, and telegraphs his body language as the tip curves upward in agitation.

"Really?" he calls up to the ceiling. "Come on!"

Experimentally, he brushes his fingers against one of his fuzzy new appendages--and tears his hand away, blushing. They point in different directions, moving independently of one another to show his ambivalence with the costume.

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"It would never occur to him to teach a woman." He nods. "That they would, and know a little of how to use it."

"Half the women in the bar would laugh at him, I suspect," Autor says, wrinkling his nose. "Do you think he'll find such a person to teach?"

"I cannot say. My cards have told me a change is coming, and a man will bring it about, so perhaps he will."

"You have cards that tell the future?" Autor says, perking up. His ears swivel forward. "Interesting. Are they part of the Tarot?"

"They are the Cards of Marseilles." He gets them out of a pocket. "Here."

(They are, in fact, copies of the Cards of Marseilles on whatever scraps of paper came to hand when he was drawing them.)

"Oh, wow," Autor says, blinking at them. His ears assume a straight-up orientation. "I like these drawings. Did you draw them yourself?"

"I did", he says matter-of-factly. "I met a man in Whitby who had a set, and he'd have sold me them but I had no money. So I copied them instead, and drew some from memory after his ship sailed."

"That's an impressive talent," Autor says, inclining his head. His tail points straight up, much like his ears. "Are the cards ever wrong?"

"Never. If they seem to make no sense, it's a failing in my understanding. Not in their prediction."

"How long does it take for predictions to come true? Years, sometimes?" Autor says, his ears swiveling about.

Childermass nods. "At times it can be. If the event is truly important."

"I hope the man who precipitates a change doesn't take years to get there," Autor says, adjusting his glasses. His tail wraps around his leg.

"He may", he admits. "But there again, he may not. For all I know of who he is, he may already have arrived."

"Indeed," Autor says, nodding. "Do the cards tell you how big of a change he'll be making?"

"Very big indeed, so far as I can tell. When I ask, I draw the Tower as the answer."

"I've only got passing familiarity with the Tarot," Autor says, his ears swiveling about. "What does the Tower signify aside from big changes?"

"Sometimes destructive change, or an ending. But sometimes liberation."

"I see," Autor says, his ears perking forward again. "So it's a tossup, really, what this new gentlemen will change things for you."

He nods. "I hope it does not signify destruction that can't be repaired. But it is out of my hands."

"What other cards have you drawn for this person?" Autor says, his tail wrapping around his hips. "And what do they mean?"

"The Magician. That signifies the person who will bring the change, and is only the name of the card... but in this case may be accurate even down to that. The Wheel of Fortune, meaning his station in life will change. The Hermit, which often comes up when I question them about Mr Norrell."

"It makes sense that Mr. Norrell would be the Hermit," Autor says, lacing his fingers together. His ears point straight up. "What will you do if this person is a true Magician?"

"It will depend on what he wants of us." He studies the cards. "If to learn, I will do all I can to smooth his way. But if it seems Mr Norrell needs protecting from him..."

"Indeed," Autor says, nodding. "Your first duty is to your master after all."

"And to English magic, of which Mr Norrell is the custodian just now. If this man means harm, I will stand in his way."