I certainly had never switched before, I reasoned. I’d have remembered if I had. I mean, unless one counts channelling–
Xanthe, you poor hapless idiot.
persecutor alter
“You and this Gaslamp shit!” It was Zara that was talking now, standing in the middle of the living room. “Everyone’s been uncomfortable around you! No one wants to be around you!”
There was a dull roaring in my ears. It sounded too much like my inworld. Or my first five or so friend groups. Or the body’s family.
And this household was never supposed to be like that.
I wasn’t well-versed in Tarot at the time, but we had fun chatting with the bartender. We told them we were a polycule out for Valentine’s Day, who was dating whom. I wish I could tell you what the other three drew. But goddamn if my ass didn’t draw the fucking Tower.
Living Fiction 