Club Discordia, Sin's After Hours

[Malaclypse 666]

Malaclypse had to search a bit for the Club. It had opened during his year-long "sabbatical", and was situated on a deck of the Skyhook he seldom visited. He mused to himself about Doc's choice of meeting places; but knew the man needed some form of recreation to relieve his busy daily routine.

The Episkopos stopped briefly to chat with Alicia and Sarah, eschewing talk of their continuing research for some light banter. Finally, he turned towards Doc's quiet corner, gesturiing to a barmaid for a clean glass.

"Hello, John Henry." He reached into a pocket of his baggy cargo shorts, and threw a bundle on the table as he sat down. "I brought you some souvenirs." Doc smiled as he looked down at dozens of Passports, the fronts emblazoned with the Apple logo of Fernando Poo. "So much for Floating Autonomous Zones," said Mal as his glass arrived and he helped himself to Doc's vodka.

He lifted his glass to Doc and toasted. "Here's to a happy Verwirrung, John!" They both drained their glasses, and sat in silence for a few moments.

Mal reached over and picked up Doc's ever-present deck of cards. He shuffled them, his hands a blur. Doc's eyes widened as Mal began to lay a pattern on the table. The cards were no longer standard pasteboards.. they bore the familiar images of the Tarot. The pattern contained only three cards, in the shape of a pyramid.

Mal touched each card as he spoke softly to his old friend. "At the top, the Empress. We are here because of Eris, John."

"At lower right, the Magician," he continued. "As a diplomat and Administrator, you work magic. As a physician, you perform miracles."

"At lower left, the Fool. I've been Eris' Fool for nigh on half a decade, and apparently, She still wants me be your Court Jester and Episkopos, old friend."

"Now then.. need any advice from your Fool?"

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