Ivy turned her cards, searching them for portents...
There was at least a touch of the True Art to her reading,
for all things Tarot in the House began to feel the pull
of the Divination. In the vestibule, the (in)famous Tarot
Tapestry began to produce images... at first, mirroring
each of Ivy's cards as she turned them... then producing
other images... a many-headed goat rearing over an array
of golden cups... a triune goddess under the moon... a masked
king bearing a sword and a wand...

It hovered a moment on this last image... and the figure
stepped down from the tapestry, shedding brocade and thread
like a serpent shedding its skin. The newcomer was tall
and well-muscled under robes of blackest velvet and golden
trim. He wore a golden box crown, beneath which a hood of
black fabric cloaked his features completely. The sword which
he still held in the formal position as on the tapestry
gleamed in the candlelight, while the wand (almost a scepter,
really) crackled with the emerald fire of some enchantment.

The king lowered the sword and wand slowly, as if coming up
from a deep meditation, then looked around, turning his hooded
head to sweep the place. His gaze rested particularly long on
the inverted police cars suspended over the dance floor... as
if he'd never seen such things before. After a few moments,
he seemed satisfied that the flashing red and blue orbs and
the accompanying throbbing discord were not dangerous.

"Canis timidus vehementius latrat quam mordet..."(*) he chuckled
to himself, his voice deep and muffled, but not unduly threatening.
Fixing his sword as best he could in the belt of his robes, the
masked King stepped forward towards the Bar. "Sum Sjolseth Rex! Haec
ego non multis, sed tibi... satis enim magnum alter alteri theatrum
sumus!"(**) he shouted as though addressing a remote omnipresence.

The handful of other patrons glanced sidewise at the newcomer
that seemed both forboding and congenial, to which the darkly robed
figure inclined his crowned head in polite acknowledgement before
folding his arms... it seemed, to await an answer...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(*) "A timid dog barks more violently than it bites"
(**) "I am King Sjolseth! This is addressed not to many, but to
you only, for you and I are enough of an audience for each
other!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Bynner :)
(with apologies if his Latin is rusty...)