Hel Wrecks Their Deck

An in-character journal for a game of Wreck This Deck

[hel-wrecks-deck]

So we’re starting off with a nice little cross thread fortune telling spread. Just to get a handle on what’s going on right now.

That’s your classic three-card past-present-(possible) future, with the top for open, strong or obvious influences and the bottom for hidden, more distant, or deliberately concealed influences.

HOW WE GOT HERE

The Three of Hearts - Betrayal

WHERE WE ARE

The King of Diamonds - The Dominant Force in Your World

STRONG INFLUENCES

The Seven of Clubs - Lack/Want/Need

HIDDEN OR CONCEALED INFLUENCES

The Four of Spades - Warnings

WHERE WE COULD GO

The Eight of Diamonds - A New Project

Welp. I guess…this deck knows why I’m here.

I lost my last deck, and a lot besides - my old home, my job at that time, and…well, more - because of someone I once cared about a great deal.

She knew what I was doing was real. And dangerous.

And necessary.

I didn’t blame her for leaving me when the cards got hot. It was scary. I was riding a deck full of demons.

Getting me committed, on the other hand…

That killed people.

Ben. Ghita. And Reana lost to the cancer too, which… Maybe it’s not fair to blame Fionn for that, but… I didn’t even get to go to her funeral.

Maybe Fionn had nicer ideas of what NHS mental hospitals might have been like because of her uncle, but now they’re just…fucking warehouses where they stick anyone who hits the Shouldn’t Be Outsude criteria while the systems trundles you through it.

Well. Anyway. It seems pretty clear. Here’s my chance to do something worthwhile when I can’t do everything I want to do.

Let’s get going.

[hel-wrecks-deck]

[hel-wrecks-deck]

A BEGINNING

My true name is Hellebore. I mostly go by Helly or Hel Moon in day to day life.

I want to protect my community here in Govan - queers, migrants, crips, madfolk, unhoused folk, and other people the government and far too many other people want gone. Who feel we make the place untidy.

The shit that matters to me? Well, my community are pretty damn important.

So is the whole fucking planet. The one the same people who want us “tidied away” depend on just as much as we do, and yet somehow don’t seem to be able to stop throwing their toys out the pram long enough to give a shit about.

I’ve got a new roommate with a kid. Her name’s Hanil, and she’s a newly out trans woman. Which, given everything that’s happening here in the UK, makes her both brave and desperate. Her son is Mo, and he seems a pretty lovely kid. They’ve fled north from Sunderland doon sooth.

I’m not asking them a lot of questions. They probably don’t need them. And, honestly, they’re helping me keep the flat since Sarra moved out. But they matter to me too.

Making art matters to me, when I’ve got the energy to get it out, and even when I don’t, frankly.

Dogs. And cats. And foxes. And birds. I feed a lot of them. Including some of them that have been dumped by people who have been driven to the bone.

My city matters to me. The one the untidy folk like us built and keep a singing, vibrant place.

So I’ve made my deck and sealed it to me. I’m starting this because I’m mostly too damn crippled to make it to all the protests and other kinds of fighting I want to. Because times like this you have a responsibility to use every weapon you have to hand.

I’m not totally new to this. I lost a lot of stuff last time I was in hospital. Time to pick it all up again.