Diamond Bright

"You would be safe here," the oracle acknowledged, "as safe as you may be anywhere. But you are a man of flesh and blood, and eventually you will die. Be at the claws of that which stalks, or of old age and boredom."

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"Better not to die bored, I suppose," Jack acknowledged. He considered whether he wanted to ask another question and decided he did not. Wolves and claws and islands and mortal death; that was enough to think about.

He gave Emma an apologetic look and said, "I've heard enough for now. Emma, do you want to -?"

His vague gesture encompassed both "ask a question" and "creep yourself out good."

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"Yes, am I finally going to get a pony for my birthday this year?" she asked smartly. "You're the oracle, tell me what it is that even I don't know I want to ask."

She was already kinda creeped out by the woman, truth be told. But being Emma, she was masking it with sarcasm.

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The oracle laughed, a low throaty sound that wasn't especially nice.

"The Gods don't care how hard you make yourself, child," she said. "Nor do they speak to me of horses. But I think they may have something for you, all the same."

She went over to the vases again, communing with the snakes as they crept along her limbs. Her eyes were closed when she suddenly spoke.

"You could be a queen in some strange land," she said. "But you'll lose it all, if you don't tread more carefully. Your moods are unworthy of what you might become."

She let one small snake climb her neck into that dark hair, peeking out from behind one ear. "You had a father. The Gods warn you not to seek a replacement in other men."

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Emma pulled herself up, squaring her shoulders back. "Don't give me blathering about Elektra complexes. I have no father," she said coldly. "The future, if you please. What do you mean by queen?"

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"But fathers might have you," the oracle said, then shrugged it off as she went back to her snakes. It was hers to make the Gods speak, not to make foreign girls listen.

"A queen with followers and jesters and a throne, but your castle may be made of cards. One wrong breath -- and you'll find that falling cards can cut as sharply as any blade." The snakes hissed as she spoke, as if sounding their agreement.

She opened her eyes. "Enough 'blathering' for you, girl?"

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"Are you then counseling me not to breathe?" Emma asked. "That might make ruling a bit difficult, if I cannot issue commands."

Emma was being Difficult herself, but, well, that was par for the course with her. But the idea of being a queen was so very tempting, even if she did not want to admit to wanting more details out of the Very Creepy Lady.

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"Perhaps she's saying you'll rule the undead," Jack offered idly, though his eyes would have been big as saucers if he hadn't been managing his face so carefully. Emma, a literal queen ... well. At least she'd be happy with that, and the cut of cards seemed safer to him than that of claws.

"That would make breathing less of a liability."

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"You're both such clever children," the oracle crooned, all but cuddling a snake to her bosom. "You'd rule together, if you held less of a grudge against the world -- and against each other. Anger is powerful, isn't it? And duty and gratitude can seem a lot like love when you're young."

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<< I am not becoming a vampire to rule the undead and satisfy your kink, Jack, >> was the silent acid reply as Emma's unblinking eyes regarded the oracle.

"Clever children often hold grudges against the world," she replied mildly. "Mostly because the world persists in seeing us as children."

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"And thinks we're too dim to know the difference between duty and love," Jack said, acid creeping into his voice. "I've been grown for quite some time, and so is she. Perhaps the young people of Atlantis are less mature."

To Emma, he added a sarcastic, <<You're opposing my clever plan, Miss Frost>>.

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"The Gods do not care about your ages; all are children in their eyes," she replied easily as some of the snakes slithered away. "I have told you what they were willing to reveal, that is all. It is up to you what you do with the Godspoken words."

"What shall pass, shall pass."

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"Que sera, sera," Jack repeated, and let out a long breath. No point arguing with the woman about what he was almost convinced were all shadows in her head.

"I suppose this is where we thank you for your time and give you some gold as an offering, isn't it?"

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"It is generally not wise to ask favors of Gods, and not leave gifts in return," she agreed, watching them through hooded eyes that resembled those of her snakes. "Least they leave an offering for you."

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Jack reached into his satchel and pulled out a few coins, eyes on Emma as he placed them on an altar that seemed designated for such things.

He thanked the oracle and started to make his way back to the street. He was curious what Emma would have to say, but he wanted to wait until they had truer privacy than even telepathy could give them.

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Emma reached into her purse and pulled out a few NYC transit tokens and added them to the pile before following Jack.

"Someone likes screwing with tourists," she said tightly, once they were down the steps and into the sunshine.

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Jack reached over to fluff her hair lightly. "Chin up, at least you get to be a queen. I got stalking wolves and islands."

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"A queen with a castle of cards and father-figures," she said sourly, but couldn't help the quirk of her lips when he fluffed her ~~not dirty~~.

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"Perhaps all castles are built of cards," Jack said, smiling a bit back at her. "Do you think she says the bit about anger to everyone who looks about our age? I can't imagine why the Gods would care."

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"Do we care if her gods care?" Emma quipped, reaching out to lace her arm with his.

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Jack pondered that.

"I can't think of a single good reason why we should." A pause. "I'm not going to worry about ... anything she said. It's all shadows."

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"She was creepy," Emma stated firmly. "I didn't even want to peek into her brain, and so I shall forget about the entire thing."

"At least we got a nice walk in the sunshine for today."

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"And a taste of local culture," Jack said firmly. (He wasn't worrying about wolves. That would be silly. Right.) "Shall we get some dinner before I deliver you to your glamorous cabin?"

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And Emma wasn't picking at her thoughts about father-figures or castles or cards. At all.

"I'd like that," she decided, trying to banish the last wisps of prophecy by smiling at him. "Did you have something in mind?"

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Jack grinned back, setting aside any thoughts of claws in the darkness. "Oh, whatever strikes your fancy," he said airily. "Not snake meat, though, I';ve decided that much."

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