[OUTDATED] A Day at the Arcade, A Week of War

(Tara) Chapter 4: The Ambush

        This wasn't good. With all the knowledge and power handed down to me through countless generations, the best language I could offer was "this really wasn't good". The day started somewhat normal, I had nothing planned for the entire day. There was no business as a tarot reader with everyone going to who-knows-where for their New Year. So all I could do was rest at my dwelling. I was mumbling as I flipped through my card stacks, practicing to shuffle them with one hand when I realized something quickly. My Third Eye, remained quiet. It might've sounded normal, but spending more then millennia with it meant something else entirely. You may think I'm exaggerating, but no. I cannot spend even one night without him knocking inside my head. Sometimes he just directly gives me a pounding headache, sometimes he agonizes me with several complaints or requests, such as fetching him eye-drops, or him complaining that he didn't feel appreciated as a soul-sucking demon in an eye. You would understand, the same old doggerel. He was the main reason I possessed a temper (which is much to say living in a community where fights to the death are common occurrences). This morning however he didn't make a sound, not even muttering a poor haiku. I wasn't going to strike a chat with him though; perhaps he took my advice and shut his eyelids for once.

         Sandy and Gene had their own arrangements, so I was quite lonesome until the countdown this midnight.

         I picked up a musty scroll and unrolled the leathery papyrus, being careful not to cough under the strong smell of dust. After a light brush I started reading the Arabian text. A Thousand Arabian Nights, one of the original copies. priceless, perhaps a few billion in today's dollars, so I naturally used this to pass the time. I read through the ancient Arabian for a bit.

...

        "I really should find some sort of activity" I thought mid-chapter. What should that activity be? I pushed away my scroll and proceeded to ponder for a moment, clueless. I could wait for the New Years event, but it wasn't on for about four hours or so. So what was it going to be? I knew that I should go outside, but where? I could join someone else's activity, but was it really like me to barge in to someone's business? I mean of course it is, but they'd most likely just run for the hills since most weren't too fond of me. Then what could I do? I certainly wasn't going to stay here for the rest of the night, but it wasn't like the answer was going to burst right through the door.

...

      Well then. Ironically enough, the answer did burst through the door, and with quite the entrance. I was about to walk out to Barley's Bar (take my advice and steer clear of Bull Diner unless you wish to die 17 different unique ways while ordering coffee) when Bibi bowled through my door without any warning, doing a full somersault and tumbling right next to me just as I got up from the couch. Before I could even ask what her business was and whether she ever heard of knocking, she recovered, crawling up to me on her knees begging for me to come with her as if I was the Saltan! I was completely dumbfounded. If I really was cruel, I would... no I should've charged a price of some sort, maybe let me win the next few matches we play together or something of the sort. I guess I was feeling merciful at the time or maybe I already had enough eternal slaves that my Third eye possessed. Regardless, I said I could attend and went along with her.

      That was my greatest mistake. Considering that I have to count to figure out how old I am, that's saying something. Bibi in many ways, was like an actual cat. Stubborn and prodding, and whiny. It'd be generous to call her childish. The arcade wasn't much better. Out of the three millennia I lived, I've never seen such monstrosities. Game boys? iPads? Vr? Trust me, it was much easier to understand the infinite realms of magic than any concept of an arcade. Bibi herself was speaking a completely different dialect! Yelling gibberish like "bait the enemy!" Or "check your corners!". Please, when I engage in combat, I do not yell senseless commands that supposedly say what I'm doing. Then there was the whole ask for their future thing everyone demands. Not "how is your day going?", nor "How is the weather this fine morning?" No. To put it simply, no. Every time I meet someone and tell them I'm a fortune teller, they always have asked for their future. I have yet to meet someone who hasn't.