The arcana

1. THE MAGICIAN

(Ok so this character will have its own name so no takesie backsie)

Your name is Gabriella. You are a student of the magical arts. You live and train in the city of Vesuvia. Tonight, the evening fog was thick, blanketing the street in an ethereal, milky glow. You linger at the window to appreciate the tranquil scene, before drawing the curtains shut.

"I'll miss you," Asra said with a soft frown.

You master Asra, the fortune teller. You know nothing of his past. Yet his taught you all you know of magic.

"Must you leave tonight?" You asked, having a slight frown. "It's the dead of a moonless night," the white haired magician said, "The right time for beginning a journey," His eyes twinkle in the low lamplight. "Here... Take this," Asra said to you.. Handing over and item, "For you to play around with while I'm gone," he says.

A gift? How unusual. "My tarot deck," he smiles softly, that's the last thing you expected him to give to you. The tarot deck is Asra's own creation, imbued with great power, "You think I'm ready, Master?" You asked, hesitant for the moment.  "You still call me that..." The fortune teller said, having a small blush dust across his cheeks, "you know I can't answer that for you," Asra said, "you've made incredible progress, but you still won't let go of your doubt," he spoke, then look you straight in the eyes, and said again, "Do you think your ready?" You think for a moment, "why don't we ask the cards?" Asra spoke up, "Excellent suggestion."

A few rays of starlight peek through the gauze windows. "It's been a while since we've practiced," Asra says, and you spoke up smugly, "Because I've perfected it?" Asra spoke again.. Having a small smirk, "have you now?" He spoke again, "you really are gifted.  I shouldn't have expected less. Well, then. Let's see that perfect technique." He's always going on about how powerful and gifted you are. His confidence is heartening, but you don't know where is comes from.

When you both sat down, something brushes along your ankle, smooth and cool
  "Oh?" Asra hummed, he reaches down from his chair and holds his hand out. A long purple serpent winds her way up his arm.  She flicks her tongue at you.  It's Faust, Asra's familiar. She's pleased to see you. You think.