There is no guilt greater than to sanction ambition; no calamity greater than to be discontented with one's lot; no fault greater than the wish to be getting. Therefore, the sufficiency of contentment is an enduring and unchanging sufficiency. -- The Tao and its Characteristics, by Lao-Tze He pushed her onto the hood. She struggled to stand, but found that she couldn't. Looking down, she saw two slender hands clamping down on her arms in the hood's reflection, immobilizing her. She traced the hands with her eyes to their owner, an ethereal woman of ageless beauty. The phantasmal woman was expressionless, save for her eyes, which mirrored the rage simmering in the red-haired man who subdued her. "How dare you! You can't do this to me!" She yelled. He briefly chortled. "You think so? Why don't you get yourself comfortable, and I'll show you how I can." "You... You won't get away with this. I swear it." "Oh, really? Think you can still blackmail me, love? Who's going to believe a spoiled lying bitch? You don't realize how serious this game really is," he spoke grimly, all humor gone in his voice. "Silly little child, thinking that she can be a woman and take on the grown-ups." She opened her mouth to intone a spell, but he was faster. She recoiled from the force of the slap. "Ah, ah, ah, my little fox," he mock- scolded her. "You're in our tender mercies now, so to speak." He leaned closer. "Oh, don't give me that look. You didn't expect this to happen? Your father didn't even flinch when he offered you up in our business deal..." He trailed off when he saw her horrified expression. He smirked as understanding dawned on him. "Why the... Don't tell me. The Queen of Pentacles, the mistress of Prosperity, aware of everything around her, but is totally blind to what is going on behind closed doors in her own home." He laughed viciously. "No..." She shook her head in denial. "No way... You're lying!" "'Search your feelings. You know this to be true'," he quoted. "You should be thankful for me. If we had never met, you would never become Arcana. Then again, I was only following orders." He traced a finger along her bared back, chuckling as she shivered in his passing. "Back then, I was holding back. Not this time, my beautiful little minx." He advanced on her. "Welcome to the real world." * * * * * * Arcana an Improfanfic started by Scott Schimmel Chapter 45 Games. The King of Puppets. written by Signus Megido * * * * * * On a train station somewhere in Izumo... "Aka, you got the tickets?" Arisa asked the approaching girl. Sumire stopped right in front of Arisa and gave her a neutral stare. "Sumire... Please don't tell me they're sold out again," Arisa groaned in exasperation. "There will be another train coming in a short while. We have been here for three hours now, another thirty minutes would not make any difference." "Thirty minutes?" Arisa hissed. "I can't wait that long!" "Patience, Arisa, patience," Sumire reminded her friend. "Maybe, but not in this outfit!" Arisa snapped as she waved at her dress in emphasis. Sure enough, both girls were dressed in light casual sundresses in lieu of their normal attire. "What's wrong with our clothes?" Sumire asked, inwardly smiling. Hers was a light pink affair, with tasteful floral designs on the side, while Arisa wore a simple light blue one-piece with a print of a popular anime chara - named Sakura, Sumire recalled - right on the front. "The skirt is too short," Arisa explained. "And this flimsy excuse for a dress barely covers my thighs, not to mention that the material's so thin that on several occasions I thought I nearly ripped the front apart by just moving! Why'd you have to pick these out, anyway?" "Well, it was your idea we should get ourselves some new clothing," Sumire replied. "I thought a change of style would be an interesting experience. Besides, the outfit looks good on you." Arisa paused to consider Sumire's compliment, and grinned. "Say, you're right about one thing - *I* do look good in this getup." She struck a pose for emphasis. "Wanna try out to be an idol star, Sumire? I know I can handle it, no problem." "Ah..." Sumire looked around and felt the uncomfortable burning on her cheeks as she saw the stares from all around them. "Arisa, you are making a scene..." "This is why I hate wearing this style of clothes," Arisa huffed in contempt, crossing her arms in front of her. "We'll be making ourselves targets." "True, true..." Arisa sighed. "I guess we'll have to tough it, then, other than changing back to our old clothes in the toilet..." "There is no need for that," Sumire interrupted. "What do you mean?" Sumire made a flourish, and two tickets appeared between her fingertips. "Here you go." Arisa stared. Then she growled. "Sumire..." "Lighten up, Arisa. You are becoming more like me," Sumire chuckled. "And vice versa," she pouted. "I don't think that's exactly a good thing." "I just wanted to see the expression on your face." "Let me see that..." Arisa appropriated the two stubs and inspected them. "What the..." "What is wrong now?" Arisa frowned as she held up the tickets. "You bought the wrong tickets, Sumire! This ones are for the afternoon train!" Sumire peered closer. Sure enough, the schedule read 5PM. "...Sorry?" "I'll show you sorry, you..." "Excuse me...?" Both girls turned around towards the source of the voice. "Yes?" They both queried simultaneously. "Um... Miss Sumire Yasuragi and Miss Arisa Shinjo?" The nervous young man, dressed in a plain dark grey suit, timidly asked. Arisa gave the courier the once over. "That's us. What's your problem?" she asked, her eyes narrowing into slits. "P-package for you," he tittered, thrusting a long bundle wrapped in red felt into Sumire's arms, then immediately bowed. "Glad to be of service. 'Bye, " he quickly turned and left. "Hey, wait..." Arisa called out, but the delivery man was already gone. "Now that was odd," Sumire noted, silently grateful for the interruption. She then slowly began to open the bundle but Arisa stopped her. "Careful," Arisa warned. "There could be a bomb inside." "If there is, I shall be glad to die by your side," Sumire joked as she continued to unwrap the bundle. "Not funny." Sumire finally unwrapped the bundle. "What the...?" She gasped as she saw the contents. "Swords...?" Arisa inspected the two weapons. "Nice. But who..." She trailed off as she noticed something dropped on the floor. She bent down to pick it up, making sure not to give the crowd around them an eyeful. "Sumire, look at this." Sumire looked up at what Arisa held in her arms. "A card?" Arisa turned the card over. "And an address not far from here." "A challenge." Both girls concluded. The Ace of Blades looked into the Knight of Blades' eyes. "Shall we?" "Of course," Arisa affirmed as she pocketed the Hermit card. "We have a few hours to kill anyway. And maybe this trip won't such a total waste." "I would not say that," Sumire did not say as she followed her. * * * * * * "Hello there. Is Inazuma Miyamoto there? I'd like to speak to him. This is Attorney Rustom Cutterson Date-Smith. Yes, I'll hold." A long pause. He idly twirled the silver leather opener on his table while he waited. Finally, someone picked up the phone. "Hey there. Yeah, It's me. How's it been?" He smiled as he listened to the receiver. "Sounds interesting. Maybe I'll visit Izumo one of this days. Anyway, I'd like to ask of you a favor... You can't? A shame. I understand your position, I was just wondering if you could at least... Well, all right, if you can't come, then... What? My Ace and my Knight? Both are there? Then can you...? Really? That's great news. Thank you, Hermit. Please, teach them everything about us." Rusty returned the phone on the receiver. "The Court of Blades will need it." He smiled. The door opened. * * * * * * Hanged Man looked up from his handiwork. Or rather, looked down from his position towards the newcomers. "Well, took you long enough," he remarked nonchalantly. Sergeant Nakamura shambled forward, his eyes gaze surveying Chairman Oda's office. "You are hasty," he spoke in an eerie, hollow voice. "Death," Hanged Man acknowledged. "And Justice?" Nakamura closed his eyes. Immediately his body straightened up, and he began to walk with purposeful strides. "I am here," he now spoke in a low, gruff tone. "That's good to know," Hanged Man nodded. "Shall we begin the Exchange?" Nakamura looked down. Despite his eyes closed, his expression soured. "The Hierophant is no more." Hanged Man smiled. "But Oda is still here. His position can still be useful." "That is true." Nakamura opened his eyes. "Very well, then," he moaned, stiffly raising a closed hand. Hanged Man smiled as the hand of Death's vessel uncurled, dropping a card onto Oda's body. Oda slowly sat up without ceremony. "Justice is now in the Spread," he spoke in Oda's voice, his eyes remaining closed. "It is done." Death turned to leave. A silvery wire wrapped itself around Nakamura's neck. "Where are you going?" Hanged Man casually asked. Death parted the wire with a simple gesture. "The World has use of the body of Wheel of Fortune." "The Wheel of Fortune is no more," Justice said. "Why does the World have need of Miyuki Sokana?" "It is of no concern of mine," Death replied. "Only to restore the natural order." "And where does the World stand?" Death looked back. "The righteous." Then he left. Hanged Man smiled, mirroring Justice's own. * * * * * * Rusty looked up as Will strode into his office, roughly dragging a dark- haired teenaged girl beside him. "Will," Rusty began, "How many times do I have to tell you not to bring your hobbies into the office?" The red-haired man bit back a retort. "This is Maki Kurayami," he announced as he shoved the disheveled teen towards the plush chair. Rusty's eyes narrowed as he looked over the haggard girl with a critical gaze. "I see." "I know you," Maki spoke with a voice full of arrogance and authority despite her current state. "You were that Forrester girl's lawyer. You must be the one pulling the strings of the Arcana gathered around the Magician." "Yes, the first statement is true," Rusty replied to the unspoken question as he observed her. "As for the second, I am not the King who rules through overt manipulation." Maki looked around, past the smirking Will leaning on the wall on one side, and took in the numerous swords decorating the office. Her gaze settled on the one directly behind Rusty, a long sword with a silver hilt, sheathed in a scabbard encrusted with twenty-two gemstones. "That is..." "The Blade of Might," Rusty answered as he followed her gaze. "One of the Trumps." "Then you are the King of Blades?" She said, wincing from her numerous bruises. Rusty nodded, turning towards Will. "You had to, didn't you?" He shrugged. "It was only a quickie. No biggie." "Your methods are... Inefficient." Will raised his arms mock-defensively. "Hey, it was Victory's idea, not mine." He paused. "Not that I didn't enjoy it, really..." "You would," Rusty sighed and turned back towards Maki. "My apologies for Chariot's treatment towards you. We of the Lesser Arcana have no true hold on them, as you may have learned by now." "She sure did," Will snickered, which earned him a glare from Rusty. "What are you two talking about?" She demanded. Rusty produced a folder from under the desk in reply. "These are the individuals you wished to do away with, correct?" He spread the pictures on the table with a flourish. She nodded cautiously. "Unlike Will here, I happen to agree with your... choices," he continued, picking up a photo. "These must be removed from the Spread in order for us to claim the Tower Reversed and break the Shackles, once and for all." "The Shackles?" Despite her hatred for these men, Maki was compelled to ask. Rusty actually looked shocked. "You don't know?" he turned towards Will, who shrugged. "They are what limits the Arcana's true capabilities. And they are what allows the Council to rule over us." "Then you're not of the Council?" Both Rusty and Will laughed. "No, Queen of Pentacles," Rusty continued as he studied the photo in his hands. "But perhaps I should start the beginning, and maybe you can be more agreeable to my offer..." "Offer?" Rusty met her gaze. "A truce between Courts. We have the same aims, the same ambition, and the same goals, after all." He turned over the photo of Hotaru Komatane in his hands. * * * * * * The World turned over the card. "The Devil." ____________________ Author's Skribulous: It could have been worse. Apologies go out to everyone, especially to Segev, Erin, Brett and Scott. -Signus Megido http://hello.to/maramala December 11, 2001