The contents of the garbage bin shifted, twisting the gathered shadows playing over the contents into dark shapes, the ominous forms playing at the limits of one's sanity. Slowly, a figure rose from the depths of collected refuse, like a blackened phoenix from the mountain of bones. He groaned as he slowly sat up. He warily looked around him. There was no one around at the moment, but he kept his guard up just in case. Visibly nervous, he clambered out of the bin after pulling himself out of the garbage. Once again he considered whether this was a good idea. He was a lanky, unremarkable teen, and only the shock of dirty reddish hair separated him from the norm. His red uniform, once smart and impressive in its regal way, was now torn and dirtied in places. Every once in a while, he would put his left hand into his trousers pocket, as if to remind himself of the silver-plated butterfly knife that was his signature weapon. He was finished. It was when he heard what happened to Miss Forrester that he realized this fact. He had been shirking his duties, avoiding the task expected of him. The traditional, inherited task that was expected of his station. Why? The question hung above him like the sword that hung over the second King of Blades, he who ruled over Damocles. He knew the consequences of failure. He knew what would come to pass if he failed. The very fate of the Spread, the symbolical field where the Arcana do battle, depended on him. He was the only One who must wield the dagger that will shape the future. He was finished. The Voices speak to him no longer. He had realized that he had depended too much on them for advice and guidance. Ever since the Harlequin departed, none of the Others have stepped forward. Not even to mock him of his stupidity. He was only following his nature. That was the only answer he could give. But even that reason rang hollow. Being what he was, his very nature can be very flexible. There were no chains to bind him, and his actions were his own responsibility. No, he had fallen for her. That was the only reason. The real reason. And so that was why he had left the Arcana who gathered around the Tower, or to be more precise, the Arcana under the Magician's sway. He left because his gifts were replaced with The Silence. Even if he can still wield formidable magic from the shared knowledge passed down to him, the forces arrayed against them are too much for a handful of children to stand against, and he will only be a liability. Much like the Paradox was now... He had left because he didn't want to endanger them. Especially her. He was finished. "You have no idea just how much power you wield, Firefly... Power to rule over the others... Power to change the future... Power to fulfill wishes... Because of this, I can't grant you this dream. I am sorry, Firefly..." He knew that The Queen of Pentacles had many eyes and ears, and by staying with them, he will only make things works. Hopefully, the Mad Queen will turn her attentions elsewhere with his absence. Or at least draw her fire away from them, for a while. Maybe he could even involve the Council themselves... After all, he was still a wanted man... He trembled slightly, tightly clutching the grime-caked billowy rags that served as his cloak around him. Time to move on. * * * Arcana an Improfanfic started by Scott Schimmel Chapter 29 Stir. written by Signus Megido * * * "Hotaru?" Keisuke carefully shook her again. "Are you alright, Hotaru?" Hotaru blinked. She then shook her head. "What was that?" "Is something wrong?" Keisuke asked. "You've spaced out again." She looked up and saw the concern evident on the Knight of Wands' face. "It's nothing, really," she replied, lightly blushing as she noticed the closeness between them. "Recently, I've noticed you doing that regularly," Sumire commented. "Come, you two. Let's go inside and get this over with." The three of them didn't notice the young girl watching them from the opposite corner of the corridor. She sighed, feeling guilty for not going over to them sooner. "What's wrong, Hanako?" A familiar voice called out to her. She turned around to see the red-haired foreigner who was talking with Natsu's lawyer approach her. "Hello, William-san," she curtsied. "Aw, don't do that, dear," Will said, grinning widely. "Just call me Will." Hanako stepped back, shrinking away from Will's approach. Will noticed her reaction. "Hey, don't be afraid, I won't bite," he added, winking at her. Hanako reddened with embarrassment. "No, it's not that." "You can tell me what's wrong, Hanako. I'll listen to whatever you have to say," Will reached out for her, warmly clapping her on the shoulder. Hanako studied his face. There was no hint of malice or deception in them. He was honest, open, and definitely trustworthy. Yet somehow, she could feel that there was something very wrong about him. "Why do you want with me?" Hanako asked. Will was surprised by the sudden bluntness. "Why," he replied, "I want to get to know you better, Hanako. I want to be friends with my niece's friends." He leaned closer. "Let's be friends, okay?" "O... okay, Will," Hanako said reluctantly. Will smiled. "You can start by telling me all about your other friends." * * * Taking care not to attract unwanted attention from the gathered press, the three sat down the front row seats in the spectators section of the courtroom behind the defendant's area, while the Judges filed into the room and took their places. The lawyers and the remaining members of the court, Rusty taking his place right in front of the trio, followed them. The Presiding Judge cleared his throat. "This court is now open. Bring in the defendant, Natsu Forrester." Natsu, her head bowed, was led in by an uneasy guard. The murmuring in the courtroom grew louder as the spectators tossed around speculations. Hotaru found herself involuntarily squeezing Keisuke's hand, and tried to stop herself. "Natsu," she whispered sadly. "I know you didn't do it..." Neither Keisuke nor Sumire said anything, both sitting still as they watched the proceedings, their expressions unreadable. "Are you Natsu Forrester?" The Presiding Judge addressed Natsu. Natsu raised her head and met his gaze. "Yes, I am Natsu Forrester." Hotaru could see the strength of conviction in Natsu's eyes. and the resignation of one guilty of a crime. "No, you couldn't have..." ...Then the rest was a blur. The strange pricking sensation, slightly faint outside the courtroom a while back, was now coming in strong, distracting her from paying any attention to the proceedings. "Sumire-san, did you feel that? What's this buzzing?" she whispered. Having noticed the telltale sensation before Hotaru did, the Ace of Blades was scanning the spectators section for signs when Hotaru whispered to her, with no success. It was as if the source was everywhere, the sensations feeling like whoever they were had surrounded her. "It's another Arcana," she replied, for that much she was sure of. "Where?" Hotaru whispered again, rubbing her forehead. The throbbing was becoming insistent. "I don't know," Sumire hissed back. "Hey, isn't that Hanako?" Keisuke interjected. The two Arcana followed his gaze. "Where?" Sumire demanded, nearly jumping up her seat. They all saw Hanako at the section right next to the entrance. She was talking to Will, who was listening intently to what she was saying. "She's... changed," Hotaru breathed, finding it nearly impossible to identify the Page of Pentacles after the changes done to her. As they watched, another girl soon joined the two, someone whom Hotaru thought was very familiar. "No way. not now." Keisuke groaned. "Who is Hanako with, Keisuke?" Sumire demanded. "Is she a relative of hers?" "I..." Keisuke was at a loss for words. "I'll try to explain everything later." I'm finished, he thought to himself sadly. * * * Sergeant Nakamura had finished talking to the radio when Sergeant Sagara arrived. "What was that all about?" Sagara asked. "A patrol spotted our perp," Nakamura replied. "They're pursuing Usono right now." Sagara felt a lump in his throat. * * * "Must get away," Joker mumbled, stepping up the pace. His face was a mask of indifference, not revealing the yawing pit of despair slowly growing beneath his chest. This was wrong, too wrong. Everything was happening much too fast, as if the police were given directions on where he was going. Everywhere he turned, there they were, increasing their pursuit after him. One again he reminded himself of The Silence. What would the other Fools do? Minstrel would allow herself to be captured, then simply convince her captors of her innocence with her silver tongue. Skald wouldn't even bother with the capture; he would pluck the silver strings and play a song to charm his troubles away. Harlequin. Harlequin would draw the silver knife and kill pursuers without a second thought. What would the Joker do? "Keep running," he answered himself humorlessly. Already he had evaded most of his pursuers, and only the more determined ones continued on the chase. Right now, he was at the middle of a bridge over the waterway. The downtown traffic slowed down pursuit, which helped put distance between him and the police. Now if only... He first heard the sharp report of a gun. That was when a sharp stabbing pain went through his knee, forcing him to double over in agony. "They wouldn't." he gasped in surprise and disbelief. He heard the voices of his pursuers approaching him. Somehow, he forced himself to stand, willing the excruciating pain away. Exhausted by the effort, he leaned on the railing for support. Between waves of pain, he managed to check his injured leg, finding a tear on his pants leg. Under it lay his leg, now a bloody mess of muscle and bone. "The police are almost here," he thought, his heart sinking. "I guess it's time... to remove the Joker from the Spread. At least I'll go out with a big splash." Using the last reserves of his fading strength, he raised himself up the railing. Below him the blue water raged as it awaited him, growing impatient with every passing moment. He didn't want to do this, but Joker had a reputation to maintain. And throughout their existence, none of the Fools were ever caught. The policemen reached him. "STOP!" One of them shouted. Joker discarded his tattered cloak in a gesture of defiance. "Make me," he sneered, then laughed. He laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, the ignorance of the Mudanes before him, and at his own stupidity. He laughed. One of the policemen made a move towards him. "No, don't." he began to speak. Still laughing, Joker spread his arms and leaned back, going over the railing. As one, the gathered policemen reached out after him, but were too late. Still laughing, Joker greeted the waters below him. Then a flash of memory gave him pause. "Firefly..." he whispered, watching the waves reaching out for him, marking his watery grave. Cold arms, gentle yet firm, embraced him at the last moment. "The Queen still has need of you yet, Fool," a new voice whispered in his ear. A glowing pentagram surrounded Joker and the newcomer. "Knight of Pentacles." he managed to blurt out. Then all was dark. The gathered policemen looked down for any sign of Ishido Usono, but there was none to be found. * * * ____________________ Author's Skribulous: .... Yeah, I suck. No time, no prereaders, no cards. One scene based on Insanity's unreleased part, used without permission. Thanks in advance. Ah, well... -Signus Megido http://hello.to/maramala May 1, 2001