Public Tell your Fortune, Visions and Dreams (open for drop-ins and passers-by)

[Velok Brokentusk]

OOC/ The concept is simple enough. Drop in for a post or two and ask a question. I'll provide the Force vision using one of a few AI art apps, and Velok will provide his interpretation.



TATOOINE
OUTSKIRTS OF MOS ESPA
MIDNIGHT

The market had just about gone to sleep so far as legitimate business was concerned. Velok the Exile, a ragged shape the size of a landspeeder, hunched in a proportionate stall. Bitter smoke ascended from his pipe and incense bowls. His eyes gleamed yellow in the dark.

"Tell your fortune," the giant Whiphid rumbled to passers-by. "Visions and dreams, friend. Fifty credits. Visions and dreams. Ask your questions, learn your destiny."

 

[Ishani Dinn]

It was just for fun.

She kept telling herself that as she approached the stall, her walk cautious. Or perhaps merely hindered by her skirts. She reached up a hand to pull back her veil, adjusting it to keep it out of her eyes as she regarded the fortune teller with a face like an ape. She bit her lip, nearly swallowing the question on her tongue out of shame.

It was just for fun.

"Will Arcturus ever come back to me?" she asked, sliding the fifty credits across the counter.

Velok Brokentusk​

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

Ishani Dinn

A gigantic three-clawed hand made the credits disappear.

"Breathe in the smoke," Velok rumbled. "See what you can see."

A vision took hold, perceptible to both of them.

"I see lightning strike two clenched fists," he said, "and golden fire across bleak hills. Do the two fists belong to two people, or to one?" He shook his head. "I have no answer, but the vision may mean more to you than to me."

 

[Daiya]

The Z-runners weren't back yet, and boredom had set in for the teen. All the stalls were closing up now, leaving her without much to do. Daiya kicked herself for not buying that glow-in-the-dark bracelet she found at the corner stall. Even if it cost more than she had, the young shadowrunner wanted to try out her haggling skills. With the chill of the desert night settling in, and the market emptying out, she wouldn't be getting another chance now.

Pulling her jacket closer around her midsection, Daiya paced the rows of empty stalls. She kicked the sand, but even the packed floor of the market didn't scuff like good old duracrete did. She missed familiar ground, already dreading the spaceflight back to Belazura when the Z-runners returned. Daiya had been so happy to have them come with her for this errand, particularly when it meant she wouldn't have to try flying the ship herself. She just wished they wouldn't be taking so long.

Sand kicked up ahead of her, prompting the teen to look up. Fresh and loose, Daiya stopped in front of a large stall taken up by a gigantic occupant. She nearly stepped back from his size alone, she had seen others of similar height but finding one here on Tatooine still managed to surprise her. In the dark, she squinted at the creature, the Whiphid seemed docile enough. Smoking a pipe, offering fortunetelling to anyone passing by.

She smirked.

Daiya didn't need glimpse of the future to satisfy herself, but boredom ruled in the absence of reason for the moment. She stepped up, waiting for her turn, eager to spend credits on something she could finally afford today.

"Can we ever get rid of the fething Corpos?"

Velok Brokentusk​

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"Can we ever get rid of the fething Corpos?"

A vision impressed itself on both their minds. Despite himself, Velok finched.

"I see beautiful things high in the clouds, torn and and bloodstained. I see no victory without ruin, without sacrifice that turns it all hollow. Sacrifice of self and self-respect, of worthwhile things and innocence.

"But yes. It could be done."

 

[Daiya]

Daiya fell silent, her ready retort left unspoken. The teen had spent her whole life plagued by dreams and portents, something she tried never to reveal to anyone. To find someone so open to sharing that talent, promising the makings of destiny, it all smelled like a ruse to her. Another charlatan in a dusty marketplace, peddling vague answers for easy credits.

She had been waiting to jump back, to challenge the interpretation of the Whiphid's answer.

The teen hadn't expect to See it herself. Hidden by the darkness, the color drained from her face. Her mouth gaped, breath caught in her throat, and hands grasped for the satchel at her waist. For the datapad, with her sketched recordings in her holojournal, sitting inside of it.

Daiya forced herself to breathe, and it came back harder than she expected. A thready gasp shook her shoulders. She turned without a word, a dozen emotions rushing through her veins.

"...it could be done..."

"...clouds, torn and bloodstained..."​

"...sacrifice of self...and innocence..."​

"I see beautiful things..."​

"...no victory without ruin..."

She was weeping when they found her, her datapad tucked back away already. The words still ruminated in her head, the images still vivid in her mind's eye. How this could be so different, why it lasted so long, the girl couldn't begin to fathom. Daiya only wiped her eyes at the approach of her fellow Z-Runners, ignoring their sidelong looks of concern as she joined them in silence for the trek back to their ship.

Daiya longed to voice that bittersweet hope inside of her, too afraid of what might happen when she did.

Velok Brokentusk​

 

[Shade of Decay]

A young Khil approached the fortune teller, multiple fifty-credit coins in one hand. Somehow, the young man seemed nearly weightless, as though the coins were more real...

But as surely as the thought arose, it was dispelled. It had to be a mere trick of the light.

"Wise one," the young man greeted Velok Brokentusk , holding up the coins after a small bow. "A few questions, if you'll entertain my curiosity."

He grinned at the fortune teller. "First: Can a body be made more resilient to decay, or is the lord of rot doomed to his own power?"

 

[Vesta]

To peer into the future was something that could be done, she had seen several things happen that had came as dreams or sensations of déjà vu, but the more she struggled to shape the road she was traveling on, and the greater her desire to alter the past to correct the present, the more her own future was clouded by the dark side of the force. To trust in the shadow to lead her directly to what she desired was foolish and naïve, something only either a child or someone in the throes of desperation could believe, but it was nearly impossible to decide whether or not she was going about things the right way on intuition alone just as well.

"Fifty credits." She said, dropping the credit chits onto the stall counter.

"How much time do I have left?"

Velok Brokentusk

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"Wise one," the young man greeted Velok Brokentusk Velok Brokentusk , holding up the coins after a small bow. "A few questions, if you'll entertain my curiosity."

He grinned at the fortune teller. "First: Can a body be made more resilient to decay, or is the lord of rot doomed to his own power?"

"Please, please." Velok gestured at a wobbly stool, insofar as a shade like this might want or need to sit down. "Let us see what we will see."

The first of the visions took form.

"I see a knot of corruption like an overripe berry, suspended in spiderwebs in a forest ruin. It's a stable sort of decay, trapped and contained — but implacably virulent, ready to burst at the slightest disruption. You see what I see, stranger. Does it answer your first question? And by all means, ask another."

---

"Fifty credits." She said, dropping the credit chits onto the stall counter.

"How much time do I have left?"

Velok sat up a little straighter at that voice. He didn't know it and felt like he should have.

"Welcome, friend. Welcome welcome. Let us see what we shall see."

A vision arose in bitter smoke, strong, almost tangible to both Velok and his visitor.

"A slim fire guttering under cold light. I see no clear guidance, no obvious destiny, many competing and impending dooms. Nevertheless, nevertheless. Not all dooms are created equal, and you still have the power to choose your end."

Trepidation sparked through the huge Whiphid. He had the feeling that he'd just told a very dangerous person something she wouldn't want to know.

 

[Cord###]

Cord noticed the fortune teller's booth, and being of a somewhat superstitious lot tried to think of import questions that needed answering. It was at this point Cord realized he didn't really have any long term goals. No stories of revenge or romance to close, no frontiers that needed to be addressed, nothing. It was somewhat disheartening, and revealed a flaw in Cord's character.

He did remember however, that the ship he just purchased occasionally talked to him in a clicking yet steamy sort of way about rubbing thoraxes and intertwining antennae. It was a bit offputting, and Cord hadn't braved bringing polite company to his ship yet.

"How does one exorcise a dead and jilted lover?" Cord asked the fortune tellor Velok Brokentusk , before handing over the credits.

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"How does one exorcise a dead and jilted lover?" Cord asked the fortune tellor Velok Brokentusk Velok Brokentusk , before handing over the credits.

Velok's eyes brightened. "A haunting! Wonderful. Let's see what we can see."

He cast bitter incense on the little burner. Smoke fountained up against the underside of the booth's canopy.

"A wanderer at bay, an obscuring mist, an alien presence that intimidates. Whether it constitutes an actual threat is unknown. Behind it, glories of interest." Velok laughed. "Make love to the ghost, friend. Find a new truth together."

 

[Shade of Decay]

"Please, please." Velok gestured at a wobbly stool, insofar as a shade like this might want or need to sit down. "Let us see what we will see."

The first of the visions took form.

"I see a knot of corruption like an overripe berry, suspended in spiderwebs in a forest ruin. It's a stable sort of decay, trapped and contained — but implacably virulent, ready to burst at the slightest disruption. You see what I see, stranger. Does it answer your first question? And by all means, ask another."

The Khil did not answer in return, but the first of the coins was placed upon the counter.

"Perhaps."

Truth be told, he did not seem to be looking for answers as to any future events, but more for whatever insights the fortune teller might manage to glean from the visions in response to the questions. Still a fortune to be told, but not of the sort most might come for.

"Knowing that the intelligence is not—can the soul be truly infinite?"

 

[Oceiros of Shor]

A worn-out spacer rubs his face, stares bleary-eyed into the smoky booth, and slides a single chip across the counter. The denomination is too high - twice what was asked, but he thinks it's rude to ask for change. Besides, it's only money, and money always comes back.​

​

And it's not like he knew what the whiphid actually got up to for a living.​

​

"I haven't been traveling long," he says, but he already sounds tired, "But it feels like forever. What's waiting for me at the end of the road?"​

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"Knowing that the intelligence is not—can the soul be truly infinite?"

"Space whales and stellar nurseries, infinity beyond the comprehension of your species or mine. Consider each being a wave that arises from the sea of the Force and returns to it, melds with it, loses all identity." Velok shrugged fatalistically. "Or so I was told by an elder I have no reason to doubt."

---

"I haven't been traveling long," he says, but he already sounds tired, "But it feels like forever. What's waiting for me at the end of the road?"

"Desolation and beauty intertwined. Scorched land where new shoots already spring up, see?"

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Tiland was old. He had seen many futures come and go. The death of dreams and the birth of nightmares and he slept shaded by tree on Qi-Ko, whose boughs bore the memories of the Force.

Past. Present. Future. He saw them all intertwined, inseparable, and acted not on rational though, but the instinctual guidance of the Force.

He had visions of a looming shape beneath twin suns, and so had come to Tatooine and just… wandered, until at least the large booth took shape.

The scents of smoke and spices filled the air and a certainty filled his mind. He adjusted his staff and pulled out the credits, as he took a seat.

He pursed his lips for a moment. There was something familiar about the fortune teller, but he couldn’t quite place it. A family resemblance, perhaps?

“Visions have led me here, though I must confess the purpose eludes me. Would you care for some tea?”

He knew the question he wanted to ask. No, the one he needed to ask, but was afraid to. For all his talk about mastering fear and letting it flow through, it always lurked and lingered in his mind. Another feeling and he sighed, setting the credits down.

“Well, that was a bit of a lie. It’s always the same haunting question. How can the balance be restored to the galaxy?”

 

[Shade of Decay]

"Space whales and stellar nurseries, infinity beyond the comprehension of your species or mine. Consider each being a wave that arises from the sea of the Force and returns to it, melds with it, loses all identity." Velok shrugged fatalistically. "Or so I was told by an elder I have no reason to doubt."

"But is dissolution and loss of identity infinity to the soul in question? Ah, regardless." The second coin was set upon the counter.

He pondered the third for a moment more. "Chains broken, only to be replaced by accepted bonds, slavish adherence to the wishes of the forebears, and the restraint of blind ambition; is the ascension false, or the key?"

 

[Nerd Wizard]

Velok Brokentusk

The demure, slim Bothan girl, bearing a black travel cloak a size too large over her lanky frame, paused in her sleepiness-infused sauntering in that weary Tatooine nighttime bustle along the outskirts of Mos Espa. Not yet in safe enough environs to risk sleep at the moment, even with the burn-scarred, hulking and fat Gamorrean plodding along behind her petite form, yet still needing anything at all that might distract her weary mind from the tiredness that was threatening to overtake her, the bespectacled Bothan's turquoise eyes shifted to and fro over the town's ghost-like, sand-encrusted buildings.

The careful squeeze of the gargantuan, meaty hand of her companion, accompanied by a guttural snort of support from the red-skinned, leather-armored Gamorrean, one Quavrr "Skull" of Rogak, gave the Bothan a start, which would further serve to help keep her awake. With her tapered ears folding back in annoyance, the Bothan gritted her teeth as she turned her head back to glower at her aged companion, eyes watery and lidded behind her glasses as the boyish little tomboy crossed her thin arms over her flat chest, "I know..." she snapped, "But we can't risk getting found out by... Well, almost anyone with any power here, locally, Imperial or otherwise."

Quavrr's intense orange eyes narrowed with a combination of determination and concern, and it was with a stern look, like a guardian reprimanding a youngling, that his massive hand politely squeezed his youthful companion's shoulder, bodily directing the impatient Bothan towards some sort of kiosk, the sign of which the Bothan didn't even have the time to get a good look at. Settling the strength-infused slab of burn-scarred, fatty, broken flesh (on the right side of his face and body, at least) of his bulk behind the teen he traveled with, the Gamorrean practically and almost comically used one hand to hold the Bothan by her scalp, while his free arm effortlessly swept the girl's lanky legs out from beneath her athletic frame, forcing her scrawny butt to settle on a sand-encrusted, rough and wobbling visitor's stool across from one of the largest Whiphids the two of them had ever seen, nearly twice the size of Quavrr's fat self.

Riskyr huffed through her feline-like nostrils, even as she used a single finger to push her glasses back into place, crossing her legs beneath her on the wobbling stool and fixing the Whiphid with a somewhat disinterested, level gaze, her elbow resting on her knee and her bearded chin on her palm. Her gray-furred right hand reached into her black cloak, clasping the hilt of the Krayt Dragon tooth hilt, pearl-infused lightsaber she had recovered (reference to a friend's OC here) from a fortress in the sands mere hours earlier... Surely, it would be safe to pass a short time in the sleepy market square, before heading into... Well, some tourist hostel, where they could lay low properly. Behind the lanky girl, Quavrr's hand extended the Bothan a handful of marked credits. Palming the cash, the grumpy-looking Bothan youth grumbled in annoyance, even as she kept her bored gaze level up at the Whiphid's ugly visage, her glasses slipping down her muzzle as an ear twitched. Her gray-furred right hand extending, the Bothan tossed the credits into one of the Whiphid's unoccupied bowls. Behind the teenager, the Gamorrean patted her head of short, scarlet hair fondly, even as his orange eyes scanned the sleepy, quietly talking crowd for any signs of ne'er-do-wells, regardless of what local faction they might be from...

"First off, I keep my clothes on, no matter what, and secondly, this better be real and not some gimmick to make me eat some spice-infused food that'll make me crap down both legs, foam at the mouth and giggle at the sand dunes while my pupils dilate... My dad raised me with the medical know-how to know the negative effects of that crap, so... I don't want to become hooked on anything other then caffe." The Bothan cast the Whiphid a sardonic, crooked, left-sided grin, even as one hand patted the hidden saber in her cloak, as though to reassure herself that it was still there. A single thumb gestured back to the Gamorrean, "He protects me, got that?"

Still feeling skeptical, the young girl nonetheless decided to humor the odd, supposed "Seer", or whatever he was supposed to be. Sighing and leaning back into the leather-clad gut of the Gamorrean, the Bothan fondly patted her guardian's hand as the larger alien hugged her, and a stray lock of her red hair obscured a single turquoise eye as the smaller alien's form became partially obscured by a bear hug from the elderly alien (and no, it's not romantic), "Alright, Fugly, wow me..." A single eyebrow raised, "What is the most dangerous thing I'll ever face, and what will be the greatest accomplishment I'll ever have?"

(Sorry for a long intro, but I still hope it's enjoyable enough, all!)

 

[Amea Virou]

She brushed the dust off of her leather jacket and plopped down into the seat in front of the medium with a deeply skeptical look on her. It was a temporary stop, a small timeslot that she figured that she could fill with some mumbo jumbo about visions and what-not. A charlatan's gold passed to another for no reason other than entertainment.

"What would the past tell me if it could?" Amea chuckled as her arms crossed in defense and subconsciously leaned back from the man. This was bound to be good.

Velok Brokentusk

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"Chains broken, only to be replaced by accepted bonds, slavish adherence to the wishes of the forebears, and the restraint of blind ambition; is the ascension false, or the key?"

"That one I can answer without a vision. Too many voices want you to ascend the wrong mountains. That doesn't mean ascension needs to be a false dream. But let's see what we shall see."

​

Velok sat back in his chair. "A glorious shrouded face. I don't know whether it's you or someone to fear, or both. I suspect the lack of concrete answer stems from the ambiguity of purpose in your heart."

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

“Visions have led me here, though I must confess the purpose eludes me. Would you care for some tea?”

He knew the question he wanted to ask. No, the one he needed to ask, but was afraid to. For all his talk about mastering fear and letting it flow through, it always lurked and lingered in his mind. Another feeling and he sighed, setting the credits down.

“Well, that was a bit of a lie. It’s always the same haunting question. How can the balance be restored to the galaxy?”

"Tea would be most welcome, thank you. The desert's cold this late at night."

Tiland's question percolated as Velok prepared the latest batch of bitter incense. Clouds rushed up against the canopy and fountained into the sky.

"I don't know what you mean by balance, but perhaps the Force may. Let's see what we shall see."

A vision took form, a tentative one, nebulous. Then an image snapped into sharp focus.

"I have no idea what or where that is, but it's clearly important. Perhaps you do...?"