Cards
By Healer Kira
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He glanced down at the cool, sturdy plastic cards in his pale hands. There were only a few exactly, fanned out between his thumb and palm as to see all of the faces. Each face is delicate and painted, made slowly and caringly as to be made perfect.
With a look around his familiar quarters that seemed almost habitual instead of nervous, he shuffled, and turned the deck face down on the wooden desk. He flipped the top one over.
Four large and carefully cursive K's dotted each corner of the card. A small M was after each one. The middle depicted a man who was dressed in red from his shoulders to wrists. Blue smoked from the bottom edge of the card snaked upwards to cover his stomach and down. His face was rough, but round. It gave him the look of harshness hidden with compassion. The light blue eyes that glared up at him were angry, the lips under the thick brown moustache set firmly in a scowl. A red cap rested on his head, a few tufts peeking out from under its bill.
In gold, painted in sharp calligraphy across the middle were the words,
"The Hero."
He twitches, almost imperceptibly, then turns the next card over.
Large J's in the corner proudly pronounced the card as a jack, with smaller L's beside them. A thin, but visible line cut across the middle. On the top half, a tall skinny man smiled softly, one hand at his side holding a green cap, the other shyly waving. He wore a thin green sweater and a pair of worn overalls. His eyes, bright and haunted, were a dark sapphire, and his brown hair was dark and mussed.
With two fingers, he gently spun the card so the skinny man was upside down, and his counterpart smirked right-side up.
The counterpart was the immediate difference. He wore an immaculate black jumpsuit, with a dark green bandana around his neck the only splash of color. Though his eyes were hidden behind a black mask, he knew they were red, a dark, blood-red underneath.
Tucked firmly on his head was a dark green cap, a backwards L inside a circle resting directly above the bill of it. In one hand, the counterpart casually spun a wrench.
Gently, he turned the card to its side. Letters spiraled downward, each precise and exact on the thin black line.
"The Pawn," the letters spelled.
His lips twisted into a smile, and he slid the card over to rest by its brother card. He flipped another from the deck.
Small, almost invisible sharp A's dotted the corner of the card. The background was a deep, near black grey that pooled the edges of the card, leaving nothing completely white. In the center, spanning from exactly under each corner, a heart pulsed. It was a dark mixture of deep silver and pure black that seemed to contain a universe within its inch wide depths.
The title didn't seem to dare show itself boldly on this card. It whispered in tiny letters at the bottom left corner.
"The Weapon."
His wicked smirk widened as he gazed at it. Finally, he laid it to rest beside the others, then looked at them all in turn.
"The Hero."
"The Pawn."
"The Weapon."
With a slow, confident sureness, he turned the next card over.
His face lost all color.
The card that stared at him was not painted smoothly, and it did not have a title. It was simple, unassuming, but woefully recognized.
It was the card of death.
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It's really just a practice on descriptions, but I kinda like it, and since I haven't been uploading much on here…
It started out as an idea of someone getting a tarot card reading. So… this.
Next story is dedicated to whoever guesses the character!
Feedback on where I can improve would be much appreciated.