Themerlinhawk — Roleplayer Guild

Tom Finch

The Indo, Irish Pub @Lionhearted

Day 1, Afternoon

Tom flipped over one of the cards. It was the Fool, to most who were watching it, it seemed like a funny coincidence but the reality was that he’d plucked the card with his telekinesis. “They are tarot cards. Used by fortune tellers to read the future. Supposedly they were created by the Egyptians originally but that’s a bunch of crap. The form that most people see and use them in is originally the purview of the Roma, which lends itself to that old Gypsy fortune teller myth. Course. Couple hundred years ago I’d have been hung simply for possessing them in this town.”

Rolling the card back over his fingers he tucked the card back into the deck. With this kid peering over his shoulder there was no way to actually read the cards. Picking up his Cider Tom drank deeply and wonder why this...he wasn’t sure. College kid? Had wandered over to sit down. If he was a member of the supernatural community Tom figured he must be a relatively new addition given that Tom had not met any new members of the Salem Hive yet. That or he was something else but given that Harkin hadn’t reacted to him it was clear that he wasn’t a vampire. 

“So, what do they call you? I assume you’re a student of some sort?” Might as well figure out what the young man wanted. Especially if he was a supernatural. It crossed his mind for the briefest of moments that he could be a hunter and he was trying to determine if Tom was some sort of supernatural. Finishing his drink Tom finally decided that it he was being paranoid. 

--

As he was talking to the young man Tom heard the door open and he turned so he could see out of the corner of his eye. Blaine maybe? Hear the strange order confirmed that it was in fact the carpenter in the flesh. Tom was familiar with the Alpha of the Salem pack, it was part of his job to be aware of potential threats to the Hive and while he’d never really engaged with Blaine he’d made sure he knew who the Alpha was. 

Wrinkling his nose Tom absent mindedly one hand shuffled the cards as he listened to his unsolicited bar companion. The next person through the door he didn’t even bother to look at initially, that was until Harkin approached her, Tom shot her a sideways look. That was typically a good sign that the person was a regular or a player. Lovely she looked like a player, there must have been something in the air if everyone was coming out to play. The blood in the snow was still bothering him, turning over the cards again he flipped over the Tower and frowned. What was it that he wasn’t expecting? What foundation was about to collapse?

Fishing his phone out of his pocket Tom flipped open the ancient flip phone and tabbed through it to Tracy’s number. Pulling it up he started tapping away at the numbers typing out a text to the Hive leader: We need to talk. Meet soon? Sending it off Tom turned in time to see Blaine approach the woman sitting at the bar just down from him. Tom was not sure what to make of her but it was clear Harkin knew her which meant that at least she wasn’t going to try and harm anyone. 

Tom flicked his eyes to the phone again waiting for a response from Tracy. There was a decided urgency to this, hopefully she wouldn’t be too long in responding.
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