Playing the Hand You're Dealt

Link to article: Playing the Hand You're Dealt.

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[[tab Literary Excerpts]]
**//Excerpts from D. Walmorgna's __Codex of Esoteric Therapeutic Tools__//**
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{{**pg. 45**}}

The tarot deck is commonly seen as a focus tool for prognostication and fortune-telling, and there are many decks which perform admirably in that capacity. However, from 1780-1802 CE, a limner and occultist by the name of François Desjardins created a series of five known decks with properties more suited to investigating the mind. Although the sophistication and responsiveness of the decks increased with each iteration, they all share the same general properties of adapting their imagery, suits, or trumps so as to reflect important aspects of the person receiving a reading. This did not result in appreciably increased forecasting accuracy, but became a valuable resource regarding the mindstate of the one receiving a reading. As such, these decks offer a valuable opportunity to help individuals gain insight into their own situations and, with proper guidance, clues as to how to improve that personal status.
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{{**pgs. 198-200**}}
= __**Current Common Variations and their Meanings**__

||~ Original Card ||~ Replacement ||~ Description & New Meaning ||
|| VII The Chariot || VII The Risen Queen || A woman clad in scarlet robes, reclining upon a palanquin draped in cloths in various shades of green. The palanquin is carried by six monsters or beasts while a small child carrying a large urn is dragged behind by a chain. The urn is occasionally broken and emitting a black smoke which encircles the remainder of the image. _
 _
This card represents violence, destruction, and loss in all aspects of life. Proper, it indicates imminent and unavoidable dangers. Reversed, it offers the possibility of escaping or forestalling danger at great personal cost. As the representation of the Querent, it indicates continuing losses or destruction. ||
|| VIII Strength || VIII Resilience || A group of warriors upon a sunlit grassy field, attacking a hovering starry void in the shape of a lion, alligator, bear, or other predatory animal. None of the weapons used make contact with the void, and a variety of broken spears, arrows, and swords lay on the ground beneath the void. _
 _
This card represents overcoming obstacles and perseverance in the face of adversities. Proper, it indicates the ability to adapt to surprising or adverse situations and successful outcomes. Reversed, it indicates unnecessary sacrifice, austerity, and survival. As a representation of the Querent, it typically indicates inner strength and fortitude and changeable personal situations. ||
|| XVI The Tower || XVI The Lighthouse || A stone lighthouse, either black or dark gray, arising from a featureless plain of the same material. Backed either by a clear blue sky with the sun in an upper corner, or a clear night sky with a moon in one upper corner and a starfield in the other upper corner. A series of candles are arranged in windows at the top of the lighthouse, and rays of light radiate, separating the lower portion of the card into three to seven sections. _
 _
This card represents boundaries, rejection of absolutes, and the importance of necessary but forgotten duties. Proper, it's an indication of change, danger, opportunity, and age. Reversed, it's an indication of failure of one's responsibilities, inability to adapt, and stagnation. As a representation of the Querent, it typically indicates that the person is in a state of transition from one powerful condition or state to an opposing one. ||
|| XII The Hanged Man || XII The Sacrifice || A naked man in profile carrying a leafy club in each hand, crossing them in front of himself to block a sword attack from a person in full modern military gear. The man is bleeding from gashes to his hip and neck. The man is standing at the edge of a grave or pit beneath a flowering tree. _
 _
This card represents unwilling, painful sacrifice and the cyclical nature of life. Proper, it indicates personal growth through hardships. Reversed, it indicates being trapped in damaging patterns of thought and behavior. When representing the Querent, it indicates the need to break free of one's current situation. ||
|| XXI The World || XXI The Battlefield _
 _
XXI The Cosmos || A photorealistic representation of the Earth, usually similar to The Blue Marble photograph, set in a black background. Surrounding the Earth is either a ring of pages or a braid of gold and silver. In the corners of the card are a partially unfurled scroll with the Sator Square written on it, a dual-faced head with one bearded and one hairless face, a computer screen with many lines of computer code listed on it, and a blank white or pale green oval with lines radiating from it. _
 _
Although the iconography of these cards is highly similar, The Battlefield only appears in the proper position (with a ring of pages) and The Cosmos only appears in the reversed position (with a shining braid). Both are indicative of a protracted battle against an implacable opposition, with the implication that there is no opportunity to compromise. The Battlefield indicates conflict, subtlety, and misdirection, while The Cosmos indicates resolution, dominion, and either fresh starts or the resumption of the status quo, depending on the placement of other cards. When representing the Querent, it indicates that they are either currently or will soon be involved in a high-stakes conflict or competition that they do not want to lose. ||
|| Five of Wands/Staves || Five of Implements || One of the few cards that changes its imagery after being placed, the scene depicts four individuals attacking a fifth using staves or sticks. The attacked individual usually resembles the Querent and is attempting to defend themselves with a staff/stick similar to those of their attackers. After being drawn, placed and observed, the defender's implement will change into another object inappropriate for defense, such as a sheaf of papers, a twig, or a soft cap. Simultaneously, the defender's face will change to show a dismayed expression. _
 _
This card represents sudden, unexpected misfortune, especially regarding the loss of necessary resources. Proper, it indicates loss of trust and negative surprises, but with a slim potential for success. Reversed, it indicates stronger aspects of misfortune, without a possibility for recovery. ||
|| Three of Pentacles || Three of Discs || An archway or open doorway set into a metal wall. Set above the entrance is a trio of discs inscribed with two to three concentric circles with three or five radially-symmetric inward-pointing arrows connecting the circles. A figure clad in a white coat or cloak stands with its back towards the viewer and is reaching through the doorway towards a pair of figures within. The figures are typically depicted by people with close emotional ties to the recipient of the reading, one masculine-oriented and one feminine-oriented. Occasionally the doorway is barred by a closed portcullis, usually when in the reversed position. _
 _
This card represents safety, security, and protection, and the efforts put forth to achieve and maintain this. Usually oriented towards emotional and spiritual concerns, but rarely refers towards physical safety as well. Proper, it indicates appropriate and effective efforts. Reversed, it indicates confinement, overzealousness, and rejection. ||
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[[tab Consulting]]
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+++ The Spread
Shuffling the cards always soothed him. The feel of the cards slipping through his fingers, card slapping against card. The soft susurrus with each cut, shuffle, cut, shuffle. Even when he didn't have a client, he would frequently spend hours shuffling the deck while paying half his attention to something else.

Laying out a spread was almost as satisfying. Almost. Whether a simple 3-card layout or a traditional Celtic Cross, or one of the special spreads he'd developed over the years, the cards springing free of the deck was gratifying, but not as much as when they remained whole, together.

He looked up as a gentle chime rang in the front room. A client, so soon? He wasn't expecting anyone until at least dusk, the in-between time when the cards were most potent. He lay the deck into its cedarwood box before walking out through the curtain. Oh, her.

He bowed slightly to the tall, stocky, stormy-clothed woman waiting for him. "Greetings, Ms. Gray. I was not expecting you to return for quite some time, given how you looked after last time. What brings you to grace my domain this day?"

The grimace on the woman's face faded into a neutral expression, then a faint smile. "Greetings to you as well, Mr. Seerson. I had not expected to return so soon, myself." She sighed, then continued. "Unfortunately, my path has become tangled again and I can't see my way forward to the ends I desire. I would greatly appreciate guidance, and yours is the best around."

He snorted in amusement at her flattery, then waved her into the back room. "Go, take a seat. I'll get us some iced tea. You prefer lemon, as I recall?"

"Yes, thank you." She waited for him to clear the doorway, then walked into the back room. A stereotypical fortune-teller's den, this was not. True, there were gauzy curtains covering the large windows, but they were a calming white cotton instead of something intended to convey a sense of mysticism. The small desk in the corner held a laptop computer and an open three-ring binder instead of a crystal ball. The walls were sparsely decorated, with a pair of half-filled bookcases gracing one wall, a few black-and-white photographs framing the doorway in, and a framed child's crayon drawing hung on the wall behind the desk. Ms. Gray knew from prior visits that it has been given to the Seerson by his niece several years ago, and he prized it.

Even the work table in the center of the room spoke more of hearth and home and comfort rather than the occult or divine. It was a solid, round oak table about two-thirds of a meter in diameter, but was covered in a cheery butter-yellow tablecloth with an occasional thread of bright blue or green woven through it. The intricately-carved wooden box that was sitting on the table was the only real sign of anything out of the ordinary. She took a seat in the wicker-backed wooden chair with her back to the door and waited patiently.

Seerson walked into the room, his short, compact frame briefly shadowing her from behind. He carried a small wooden tray bearing two glasses, a pitcher, and a small bowl of lemons. He set the tray down on the table and passed Ms. Gray a small cork coaster before pouring her a tall glass of sweet iced tea and giving her it and the bowl of lemons.

He poured himself a glass as well, sans lemon, and said "I'm sorry it's so warm in here. I'm trying to save on electricity and the breeze can only do so much."

She waved off his apology. "Oh, it's fine."

He sat in another wooden chair across the table from her and took a sip from his glass before opening up the box and pulling out the deck of Tarot cards.

"So what level of detail would you like? Remember that the more detailed, the longer the session."

Ms. Gray took a sip of her tea in turn, brushing a lock of her graying brown hair out of her face while taking a moment to gather her thoughts. "As I said, I'm feeling blocked, like there's a path open before me that I'm just not seeing. I'm not seeking anything terribly in-depth, but I'll leave it up to your judgment."

Seerson steepled his fingers and hmm'd. "I think I know something that should work. Here."

He handed her the deck of cards. She shuffled them once, twice, three times, then handed them back.

Seerson placed the deck on the table between them, slightly off to the side, and lay his hand on the top card. "Let us begin. This first card represents you and your present circumstances."

He turned over the card and lay it in the center of the table. An armored man riding a horse, a bowl held by both hands. "The Knight of Vessels. A messenger, a dreamer, a diviner of truths." The space above the table began to waver slightly, like looking through heat waves above a desert road.

"Next is the path behind, that which brought you to your current circumstance." He drew and placed another card to the left of the first, from her perspective. A shrouded figure laying on a mortuary table with a hunting rifle laid across its chest, three large cleavers hanging from a rack above the scene. "The Four of Weapons. Vigilance, retreat, and exile."

The shimmer deepened, hints of color appearing in it.

"Next is the destination sought, that which you have as your goal." Another card, placed to the right of the original. A black lighthouse against a blue sky, four rays of light illuminating the dry plain below it. "The Lighthouse. Change, danger, the rejection of absolutes."

The shimmering space pulsed, slowly, shapes slowly forming and fading.

"The obstacles you have to overcome." The card is laid horizontally across the first and third cards. A doorway barred by a portcullis, with a white-jacketed figure reaching through the bars to a pair of shadowed figures within. Three discs bearing an emblem familiar to Ms. Gray were above the door. "The Three of Discs, reversed. Emotional or spiritual restrictions, confinement, and overzealousness."

The space expanded outwards, obscuring each person from the other's vision. Distinct images of hallways and jewels appeared before tumbling away.

"Finally, the key issue you need to confront." The card is laid across the fourth, depicting eight wooden staves, carved to look like different serpents, with a sense of stilled movement. "The Eight of Implements, reversed. The stinging of your conscience, foolish haste, and jealousy."

With the placement of the last card, the space between the two expanded down to meet the table as it became a perfect hexagon, the images within sharp and clear. A stone hallway leading towards a silver door inlaid with gemstones. Metal branches growing out of the walls, copper-colored leaves gently rustling in an unfelt breeze. A row of fluorescent lights extending the length of the ceiling, steadily glowing and leading towards the distant doorway.

Seerson heard Ms. Gray's chair scrape against the floor as she pushed back from the table. "You know the drill. I'll be waiting here when you get back."

"Thank you. I'll try to be quick."

The table jostled slightly as she climbed onto it, and then stilled when she walked through the portal. As soon as she did, the abnormal space collapsed, with no trace that it had existed. Seerson pushed back his chair and stood, then collected the half-drunk glass of tea and bowl of lemons back onto the tray. He hummed as he tidied up, then picked up the remainder of the deck and sat down at his desk.

He waited for the portal to reform above the reading and shuffled the rest of the deck. Cut, shuffle. Cut, shuffle. Cut, shuffle.
----
+++ The Reading
Walking through the portal wasn't uncomfortable or shocking, //per se//, but was definitely an odd sensation that she couldn't get used to no matter how many times she did it. It was like having something lightly brush every part of her, inside and out, all at once. At least it was brief.

Claire steadied herself as she entered and inspected the hallway. It was important to keep in mind that this was a largely symbolic environment and that first impressions were just as important as deeper introspections. It was hard, though, to maintain a balance between dismissing seemingly irrelevant details and obsessing over every little thing, trying to ferret out meaning.

She suspected that this hallway was more of a staging ground than anything deeper, as she'd seen variations of it in two of her past readings. The copper branches were new, though. Copper tarnished into green, an imitation of true plants. A simulacrum of living things. Interesting.

No! She was already trying to read too much into small details at the very beginning. This place was too responsive; it would give her finer and finer details the harder and longer she looked for them. She had to fight her instincts and metaphorically unfocus her eyes.

So. Hallway. Branches, ceiling lights, door. She walked down the hallway, her strides covering more distance than would be expected, until she stood before the door, now a set of gates made of twining silver bars with sapphires and rubies inset at the intersections. They were held closed by a fine silver chain locked into place by a brass-colored lock. The keyhole was slightly smaller than the tip of her pinky finger. Claire patted herself down in case a key had appeared in a pocket, as sometimes happened. Nothing.

She gave a tentative tug at the chain, but it held strong despite its delicate appearance. The bars weren't loose and the hinges were on the other side of the gates, where she couldn't reach them. How was she to open this?

Oh, of course! She plucked at one of the branches at random and a twig easily separated, the broken stem resembling a skeleton key, if you squinted and looked at it at an angle. Her methods were all about using the overlooked to her advantage, after all. She inserted the twig into the lock and the bars of the gates thinned finer and finer until the weight of the gemstones snapped the silver threads, leaving the way ahead open.

Claire passed through into a chaotic scene. She was now standing in the eye of a vast windstorm, too large to be a simple tornado. Branches, no, whole trees went spinning by, a cinder block wall disintegrating before her eyes as it hurtled around before retreating further into the storm, a flock of starlings somehow maintaining formation as they darted as one being. The flock-beast burst free into the calm space around her and started flying around her in the opposite direction of the larger storm. Bird calls, deafening, wings buffeting her as the flock grew closer and closer.

She dropped into a crouch, arms held up to protect her face from the storms of wind and birds. Greenery started hitting her. She wasn't sure which storm was throwing them, but as they touched the ground at her feet, they sprouted. Yellow roses and sweet mint sprouted and entangled her feet, her ankles, her legs, rapidly climbing her body. The smell of them was so strong, her head started swimming.

The smell, the birds, the storm... they were all trapping her, buffeting her, wanting to keep her in one place where she could be attacked. Claire tried to pull off the vines, but the thorns stabbed her hands and the mint stained them green where she ripped them away. Blood and green, dripping from her hands. The scream of the storm and the high piping of the birds.

She raised herself as much as the plants would allow and screamed, no, //roared// her defiance at the chaos that surrounded her, that which //dared// to keep her trapped, to force her to inaction against her will.

The windstorm died, immediately, everything it carried crashing to the plain surrounding her. The flock continued its circling, though, its mad cries growing shriller and shriller, as if to tell her that though she may have roared away the wind, her cries had nothing on its.

The roses and mint slowed their climb as they reached her hips. She was more firmly bound in place, but at least her arms were still free. The strong redolence of mint and roses rose strong and fierce, though. She was losing her concentration, which she couldn't afford to do here. She had to defeat both the birds and the bower, and needed to keep a tight focus on anything that could help her.

Or wait. She had already admonished herself about keeping too tight a focus, of encouraging the landscape to give her more and more until she couldn't take it. Her senses were being overwhelmed and her instinct was to fight it, to fight her way free. But to struggle, fruitlessly. To fight even when doing so only encouraged more violence. This wasn't a winning strategy.

She closed her eyes and tried to still her breathing. She flinched as a wingtip flicked across her forehead, then another against her ear. She kept her eyes closed, though, trying to ignore the distractions. She felt a rose vine brush and then grab her left arm, a flower blossoming against her elbow. The thinner shoots of a mint vine grabbed her right arm and both vines crawled up to her shoulders, and then her head. A torque of roses around her throat, a circlet of mint upon her brow.

She kept as still as she could throughout it all, fighting to not fight, struggling to not struggle. And none of the thorns pricked her. And none of the vines tightened to strangle. And as she felt the leaves grow down over her closed eyelids and the blossoms grow up over her mouth, the flock descended.

At first only one starling, then another, then so many she couldn't tell them apart. They landed on her bound body. A single bird would be so light as to not be noticed, but this many weighed her down, binding her to the ground as sure as the plants that covered her. But then.

But then she felt a purpose in the jostling hops of birds over her body. Mint was plucked, roses were broken, vines were pecked loose. In a matter of minutes, she was freed, but for her crown and her torque and her mask. Claire gently lifted her arms, birds hopping out the way, and felt at the remaining greenery. It was smooth and metallic now. She couldn't open her eyes with the mint leaves pressed against them, but there was negligible weight to the metal plants.

She tried to pluck it free, as she'd plucked the twig in the hallway, but it was solid and stubbornly resistant to her fingers. She put her hands to the ground and slowly pushed herself up into a crawling position. Sweeping her hands back and forth, she started to explore the area around her, now that the environment wasn't actively trying to hinder her. Birds hopped around on her back and in her hair, disregarding her motion. Their cries were softer now, and more melodic than shrill.

She made her way slowly across the expanse, the grit of dirt or coarse sand beneath her. The ground slowly became grainier and grainier as she felt a heat upon her exposed forearms and the back of her neck. It felt like sunlight, like she was at the beach, but there was no sound of waves and she couldn't see.

Her sweeping hand bumped into something, a pole of some sort that felt like pitted stone. She pulled herself to her feet as her hands carefully traced the pole upwards, until she reached... an arrow sign. No, two, pointing in different directions. Rather more pointedly on-the-nose than she would have expected. They felt like they were made of the same stone as the pole supporting them, and she couldn't tell if there was anything written on them. It didn't feel like anything was engraved on them.

She was frustrated with this whole thing and let her head fall against the pole. This was not a terribly wise decision, as her mask thunked back against her face. It may be light, but it was still solid metal. She tried to rub her forehead where it had jolted her, but aborted the motion. The definition of insanity, after all.

She heaved a sigh through her nose and drummed her fingers against the pole as she took a moment to just //think//. This place was literally made just for her. What did she need to do to master, no to //understand// it? Time always felt strange in here, and she couldn't tell whether she'd been at it for hours or days or forever. She //could// be here forever, if that's what it took to understand. She didn't know everything about the deck that opened the way here, but she did know that not everyone came back.

But she couldn't doubt herself. She had gone through this before and emerged stronger and wiser. This place was a test, yes, but one she placed before herself. Any opposition was her own doing, as much so as any strength she used. It was easy to forget, when things became externalized.

And if this place was all and only hers...

Claire blinked and opened her eyes as the mask came off in her hands. Silver filigree with tarnished copper leaves and yellow gold rosebuds, all of a piece. Beautiful. She cradled it as she looked up.

The arrows weren't actually signposts, but rather the feet of a much taller caricature of a scarecrow, all graying stone and angles. Its arms were pointed upwards in a V and its head hung down to stare at her, stony spines making a ruff around its neck. She recognized it, though. It didn't look like her predecessor, but it carried the //impression// of him. The blankness, the lack of self... She didn't envy the bare fraction of a life that he'd allowed himself. The fact that she now carried his burdens as well as her own had always rankled. Being reminded of it was annoying. His strengths were hers now, his ways hers, and unfortunately, his enemies hers too.

She may not have envied his pale imitation of life, but she did almost envy that he was allowed to //leave//. She couldn't yet. Not until she allowed herself to. And she had too much to do before she could afford that luxury.

She banged her fist against one of his arrow-feet and watched as the pole spun slowly in a full revolution. The face of the scarecrow was different now. Her own. Or at least her face from when she'd held her own name instead of that of some nobody off the street. She struck the arrow-foot again, harder. It wasn't fair to taunt her like this!

The scarecrow spun twice this time, stopping to face her again. The face was now a literal vacancy, an open cavity into the rest of the head, just begging for someone new to fill its place.

Claire glanced at the mask in her hand and nodded, then began climbing the pole. She had to do it mostly one-handed, as she didn't feel comfortable putting the mask back on in order to climb, so it was slow going. The scarecrow seemed to get taller and taller as she climbed, too, and by the time she was able to sit in the V of the arms, she had to be at least a dozen stories above the gritty ground of the black plain below.

She carefully placed the mask into the cavity, crown, torque and all. It was too small. It rattled around like a dried pea in a drum. But either it grew or the head shrank, until eventually it seated itself properly in the space. Just as it settled, a bright light burst from behind the mask and the scarecrow's arms jerked downwards. She slid and fell, her grasping hands unable to gain purchase before she slipped off the thing's shoulders.

As she fell backwards, she steeled herself for the sharp impact and hoped that nothing major would break.

There was a soft thud as she landed gently on a wooden floor.

"Welcome back, Ms. Gray. Would you like another glass of tea while you gather yourself?"
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[[tab Internal Documentation]]
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: [[size 125%]]**Anomalous Item #55829**[[/size]] : **Item Description:** A deck of cards which changes the number and type of cards it consists of in order to be able to play any type of card game desired by the holder. It will retain the form of the last cards used until used in another game. _
**Date of Recovery:** 2010-09-14 _
**Location of Recovery:** Genua, Italy _
**Current Status:** Kept in Low-Security item storage at Site 78. Available to personnel with Level 1 or higher clearance.
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----
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= **INTERNAL MEMO**
= **ACCESS LIMITED TO SECURITY CLEARANCE:**
= **__SITE DIRECTORS: S-17, S-19, S-78__**
= **DO NOT COPY OR REDISTRIBUTE**
----
**re: Potential upgrade of AI-55829 to SCP-class Item**

AI-55829 is a metamorphic deck of cards that changes to fit whatever game is played with it. Standard testing at acquisition indicated no adverse properties and a negligible risk level, so the item was assigned to the Anomalous Items department. Full file available **##bf2000|here##**.

On 2014-10-31, AI-55829 was checked out for entertainment purposes for an office Halloween party. Per post-incident debriefing, Assistant Researcher William Davidson decided to try to use AI-55829 to perform tarot card readings. AI-55829 successfully replicated a deck of tarot cards, which were visually inspected prior to use and determined to resemble a Rider-Waite-Smith deck. However, during use, a number of previously unseen effects manifested.

The initial effect was that several cards were drawn which did not conform to the standard tarot deck in either name or illustration. Of note is that for instances of "pentacles" cards, the Foundation security levels logo replaced the standard pentacles.

The second and more concerning effect was that the placement of cards in the "Tree of Life" spread resulted in a large visual distortion above the table upon which the cards were placed. Although the distortion began forming immediately after Assistant Researcher Davidson placed the first card with the intention of using that particular spread, he reported that he felt a strong and seemingly natural desire to continue the reading until the spread was complete. Upon the completion of the spread, a variety of disconnected objects and scenes were visibly cycling within the distortion, and Custodian Janet Martinez, the person for whom the spread was laid, reported that the contents felt symbolically representative of multiple aspects of her life and immediate psychosocial situation.

Both Davidson and Martinez reported "knowing" that the completed distortion was a portal or gateway specifically available to Martinez only, but neither felt any sort of compulsion to confirm that.

Five minutes after the distortion fully formed, it abruptly disappeared, and security personnel were able to recover AI-55829. As an immediate safety precaution, AI-55829 was used to play a game of "high-card", at which point it replicated a standard 54-card playing deck and was returned to storage.

Given the multiple new anomalous properties of AI-55829, I recommend that it be reclassified as an SCP-class Item, provisional Object Class: Safe. Until such time as this request can be processed, AI-55829 has been placed in Medium-Security storage pending input from the Containment Department.

**Jane Walsh, Director of Department of Anomalous Items, Site 78**
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----
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**Item #:** SCP-7361

**Object Class:** Safe

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-7361 is kept in a Medium-Security containment locker at Site 54. Access to SCP-7361 is restricted to Level 2/7361 personnel only. Research and testing is to be restricted to trusted personnel only, and D-class personnel are not to be used for testing (see Addendum 1).

**Description:** SCP-7361 is a deck of cards which changes its number and type of cards to be able to play any type of card game desired by its holder. It will retain its current form until used in another game. All deck types and variations are non-anomalous, with the exception of tarot cards, specifically while being used for divination purposes.

When used to perform tarot card divinations, SCP-7361 produces a number of non-standard cards, which typically are highly specific to the person for whom the divination is being performed. Additionally, there are 3 known divination card spreads^^##bf2000|1##^^ which activate a further effect of SCP-7361.

When used to perform one of the identified divination spreads, a spatial anomaly forms above the placed cards. The anomaly can only be accessed by the person for whom the divination was performed, and consists of an entrance to a topologically-inconsistent location. This location contains a multitude of objects, creatures, and structures which are highly symbolic representations of the test subject's mental state and current psychosocial situation. Test subjects report that they are unable to locate an exit from this location until they have confronted and overcome at least one obstacle representative of a situation in their personal life. These obstacles present a highly variable degree of difficulty, however, and can consist of anything from using a key to unlock and open a door to slaying a monstrous creature.

Any injuries or physical changes which the test subject incurs while within the anomalous location are reverted upon exiting the location, although psychological changes may persist.

**Addendum 1:** On 2014-12-23, D-1584 (a self-described "new age shaman" familiar with tarot card divination styles) used SCP-7361 to create a typical entrance for D-1945, who was equipped with standard recording equipment. The entrance closed after 45 minutes without D-1945 exiting it. On 2015-02-14, D-1945 was recovered from custody of the New York City Police Department following an unsuccessful robbery of a bodega. During interrogation by Foundation assets, D-1945 reported no significantly unusual aspects of the location accessed by SCP-7361, but that when he exited, he emerged in an alleyway near his childhood home in Brooklyn, New York. This occurrence has yet to be replicated by Foundation personnel.

[[size 125%]]**Footnotes**[[/size]]

##bf2000|1.## Commonly known as "Star Guide", "Tetrakys", and "The Tree of Life"
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Playing the Hand You're Dealt

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