The Hands of Fate
Posted on Tue Mar 19th, 2019 @ 10:04am by Lieutenant Commander Angus Murphy
Edited on on Tue Mar 19th, 2019 @ 7:53pm
Mission:
Sojourn
Location: Marge III
1901 words - 3.8 OF Standard Post Measure
Following the mountain retreat, Murphy really wanted to spend some time in the city, exploring the urban life of the planet with clubs, restaurants, and maybe a performance or two. They arrived in the Capitol city by high speed maglev train, just like they'd taken to the mountains. It had been a whirlwind vacation, but they both seemed to be enjoying each other's company.
As they stepped off the rail, Murphy breathed in the warm air. "Nice to be back where the air doesn't hurt your face," he chuckled and squeezed Patrick's hand.
"Aww it wasn't that bad in the snow was it?" Patrick mock-pouted, firmly grasping the hand that held his. Yet he turned his face up towards the sun. "I do prefer warmth though," he admitted with a smile, "especially of a certain kind." He drew closer, then pointed at one of the buildings. "Look at the architecture," he observed, "have you ever seen anything like it?"
Murph grinned as he pulled Pat close, "No, no, the snow was fun. I'm glad we went." At the architecture, he looked up, craned his neck at the beautiful and somehow peaceful buildings. "Never seen anything quite like it. Reminds me of something maybe Betazed would have? I've not been, but I imagine."
As they walked along the pedestrian thoroughfare, there were all manners of retail and restaurants lining the avenue, but the crowd was sparse that time of day so it seemed very quiet. "Get your fortunes read?" a little old woman with one eye stood in the street and was beckoning them over to her glimmery shop.
Looking over at Murphy, Pat shrugged. "I don't really believe in that mumbo-jumbo, but it could be fun? Unless of course all they do is predict our deaths..." He shrugged again. "I'll do it, you don't have to if you don't want to." He tugged the man over to the shop, smiling politely at the woman. "How does that work?" He asked her, not quite sure whether or not to offer his hand.
Murph grinned and followed along. He didn't believe in the supernatural or mystics, either, but it was fun to play along. "You go first and I'll see if I like the outcome," he chuckled, holding back to just watch.
"No, both," the old lady insisted as she motioned Murphy forward, like she was pulling an invisible string. When she had them both, she held out her hands and took Pat's in her left and Murph's in her right and pulled them closer as she looked at them, compared them, and seemed very interested. "Ahh," she squinted at one hand and then the other hand with her one good eye. "Very interesting. Many sames. Strong bond."
She dipped her finger into a reservoir of green ink and then traced a glyph onto the back of Patrick's hand and a different glyph onto the back of Murphy's, then she gestured to a long padded bench before disappearing behind a beaded curtain.
"I guess she wants us to sit down?" Patrick shrugged as he stared down at the glyph on the back of his hand. "Yours is different than mine, I wonder what they mean...." He didn't really look concerned, but this seemed more mysterious than he had counted on. "Many sames how? What does that even mean?"
Patrick looked up at the curtain, wondering where the woman had gone. "So...we wait?"
"Good thing we don't have anywhere else to be," Murphy replied as he sat down and smelled the back of his hand where the symbol had been drawn. He immediately made a sour face. "Well, that's definintely not ink," he said, turning his head away.
"Tea time," the old woman sang as she bustled through the beads with a tray that contained three cups, a kettle of steaming dirt-colored water, and some flat pale cookies. She set the tray on the table and poured out the cups. "Just tea," she confirmed to them as she handed them each a small cup.
"What do you mean, not ink?" Patrick asked as he accepted the cup and sniffed the content. "Goodness, that's mighty strong smelling tea. What kind of tea is this? What kind of herbs are in it?" Ever the chef, curious about the contents of something. He sipped it carefully, holding his breath. "Taste it Murph, it really does taste nice, contrary to the scent."
"Well, the ink smells more... uh... organic than that.. like some kind of animal waste, maybe," Murph didn't really want to think too much about it. He took a sip of the tea and looked pensive for a moment. "It's not horrible. Kinda floral."
"Drink tea, eat cookie," the old woman said, not really understanding Patrick's question, as she quickly downed her cup in two gulps. "Fortune cookie." She thought about that and then clarified, "Cookie then fortune."
Nodding, patrick poured the tea down his throat, really not finding it appalling. But his trained palatte told him it was safe to drink, even if the smell said otherwise. Obediently, he picked up one of the cookies and nibbled on it. "What is the tea made of?" he asked again, "what's in it?"
"Tea just tea," she told him again, clearly having gotten this line of questioning before. "You want tea leaves? I sell leaves."
Murphy also sipped at his tea until it was mostly gone, but found the floating leaves in the bottom a little off-putting and set the cup aside. He reached for the cookie and took a bit bite. "Mm. That's nice," he said through a mouthful as he nodded to the old woman.
"Yes please, if this is any special tea I'd like some leaves to make it again," Patrick acknowledged, having no idea whatsoever that this possibly wasn't any regular kind of tea. He waited patiently for her to speak again, while unconsciously reaching for Murphy's hand.
Murphy chomped through the cookie and reached to meet Patrick's outstretched hand. He gave him a smile and a wink.
"Cookie, fortune, then tea," the old woman told Patrick as she lifted Murphy's free hand and put her palm to his, as though feeling it's temperature or something. She must have been happy with it because she removed her own hand after a second. The woman seemed to have little regard for how the human body moves as she contorted his wrist to pull it closer to her good eye so she could see and trace the lines in the light of the sun that streamed through the dusty windows.
Murphy let his hand be moved around since it didn't hurt, it was only a bit awkward.
Patrick watched with interest as Murphy's hand was examined. He grinned at his partner as their eyes met. "Reckon she'll see anything?" he teased, taking a final sip from his teacher.
"Hmm," the old lady said, as though she were trying to make out illegible hand writing written in invisble ink in the crack of Murphy's hand. "I see new life. A baby is born! Somewhere outside of your house, maybe at your work, you receive a nice compliment. Much will be learned and much will be won."
She continued, moving to a different line, "GOOD!" she exclaimed. "Your relationship, you get recognition and appreciation for who you are and what you like to do. Spiritual development. Small problems will be solved and someone-- a toxic person-- is leaving."
Leaning in, Patrick gazed down at Murph's hand, then back up at the woman. "Terribly vague but wow you can see all that from just looking at his hand?" He raised an eyebrow at Murph. "Looks like you're going to be a dad someday," he chuckled, "what else do you see?" He smiled, quickly kissing Murph's cheek as if stealing the moment there.
"It's Minvayr," Murphy said, slightly amazed, and clearly believing in the mystic more than Patrick. "A nice compliment at work could be my promotion. Recognition and appreication for who I am in my relationship... that's you, Pat! She saw all that."
"You eat cookie, I give fortune on you next," the old woman told Patrick.
"I already ate the cookie," Patrick said, offering her his hand. "And I suppose you could be right...but.." He shrugged, not wanting to call it a scam in front of the woman. "I'd rather think the child in your future is your own child, not a goddaughter of a species you're actually afraid of."
"I'm not having children," Murphy said as he shook his head. "So that's definitely not it. And I'm not... afraid... really... mostly."
The old woman looked dubious that Patrick had actually eaten the cookie, like she didn't entirely trust him. She reached his hand and put her palm against his, this time for almost a full minute. Her hand was soft and wrinkly like a prune. Finally she hoisted Pat closer by his arm as she maneuvered him to read his hand in the sunlight. She read and traced various lines for several minutes without saying anything at all.
Finally, she broke her silence by staring up at Patrick with her one eye. "After a period of hard times, a safer time comes in family life. Someone who loves you gives you support." She kept looking down to consult the hand and then back up at him. She moved to another line. "It's a unforgettable time. A kind, but unexperienced person has good and sincere intentions. Your relationship with this person won't last forever. There also is a mother-son relationship." She traced another line on his palm. "Someone is desperate in love. This wonderful, but be aware! If too dependent in love, there is greater chance of failure." She brought his hand closer and re-read the line, and traced it onto a branching line. "There is a big disappointment coming in love. You should always keep seeing other people and have own friends." She released his hand.
Patrick pulled his hand back, rubbing his palm as if to erase what she'd just said. "Thank you," he said, then reached for Murph's hand. "Let's get out of here," he told him, while tossing a few coins onto the table, reasoning he had to pay her something for her services. "I want to get out of here." He all but pulled Murph out of the shop and back out onto the streat, seemingly upset by what the woman had said. "I don't like what she said," he confessed, "I don't like it, and I don't believe a word of it."
Murphy followed along, doing his best to keep up and not be dragged out quickly. "Hey, hey, slow down," he stopped Patrick outside, a few doors down, "It was just for fun. None of it means anything, ok?"
"I guess you no want your tea leaves then," the old woman said with a shrug as the couple ran out of the shop and out of sight. She was no longer young enough that she could run after them, but there was a time when she used to do that. "I guess they don't need to know real fortunes come during sleep tonight." She packed up her special fortune cookies and put them back into their container.
Lieutenant Commander Angus Murphy
Chief Engineer, USS Majestic
Patrick O'Malley
Chef
pnpc Lhaes
