The room was horrible.
On a normal night, Tacey might have felt inclined to merely declare it 'average' with that tone of polite disdain that would have made it perfectly clear that average just wasn't quite enough for a celebrity of her caliber. Your lack of understanding is tolerated, my good man, just show the me the
real suite now and don't do this sort of thing again. It's not very funny at all.
This time, however, it was just plain horrible, yet the clerk had insisted that it was the best that the Illusionist Hotel had to offer.
Tacey sighed, shifting her lying position beneath the sheets for the umpteenth time. The sheets were soft, as was the the pillow and mattress. They were clean too, but much like the rest of the room, there was just something missing. It was
supposed to be posh. She could tell that painstaking efforts had been undergone in an attempt to make it posh, but it was equally obvious that whoever had done so just didn't grasp the essence of posh. Yes, there were supposed to be tacky ornaments and bizarre objects that had been labeled 'art' simply because no other term existed, but not
that kind of tacky and not the schizophrenic creations of
that particular artist. Yes, posh carpeting and random gildings were part of the package, but the carpeting was the wrong color and the gildings were in all the wrong places.
The rich girl clutched the pillow tighter, eyes shut to shield her from the weirdness of her environment. Everything felt out of place. It had been that way right from the start of the tournament. Nothing went the way it was supposed to. She should have gotten a team of faithful admirers, she should have
won the duel against Pegasus, no-one should have died just because they couldn't measure up to her in a children's card game, she should
not have been saddled with two psychotic card players, but above all: Achan should
not have hated her!
The mere thought of that uppity teenager's behavior made her blood boil. She was used to envy, you got a lot of that in a position like hers. She was used to jealous stares and spiteful remarks, but they were always made by people who really only wanted to be like her. They had
said they hated her, but this time, the rich girl fought off a most non-presentable tremble that was trying to take over her lip, this time she had really
felt it. It was a horrible feeling, to feel truly and completely unwanted, and a clumsy apology was not enough to erase it from her mind. And to make matters worse, there was that moment...that moment with the stupid paper airplane, the one that had cost him his ticket.
Tacey screamed into her pillow out of sheer frustration, the object thankfully muffling the sound. If he wanted to hate her, what was up with doing something like that?! If he didn't want to hate her, why was he saying all those other things?! Why couldn't that stupid boy make up his mind?! And more importantly, why couldn't
she stop thinking about it?! Achan was obviously not giving a hoot about her feelings or concerns. If anything, he'd no doubt be
pleased to have upset his most hated rival like this. There was
no reason for her to care about him. She
refused to! Tacey might have been forced to compromise some of her principles during the course of this tournament, but she was most certainly
not going to start obsessing over some plebeian boy. After all, he wasn't rich or influential, nor was he anything special when it came to playing children's card games. He had no manners and no fashion sense, and he wasn't even good looking.
He was just embarrassing.
"Friends." Tacey scoffed at the darkness, reproach for the presumptuous 'high king's' words evident in her voice, "We've only known each other for two days and I don't even
like him!"
"Miss Edgeworth?"
Shock could do wonders for a person's reaction speed. The moment that the familiar male voice reached Tacey's ears, the rich girl spun around to face the door to her room, immediately pulling the covers around her to protect her modesty. Her nightgown was hardly the most revealing piece of apparel in existence, but she was not about to take any risks.
"Rufus!" she hissed, glaring in annoyance at the tall, spiky-haired silhouette that had appeared at the door, its head very wisely turned away from the positively livid millionaire heiress, "Haven't you learned to knock?!"
"I did, miss Edgeworth." the suit replied in as calm a tone as he could muster, finally deciding to ignore the advice of his self-protection instinct as he elaborated, "Three times."
"Well, you didn't knock loudly enough." Tacey harrumphed in response, unable to muster a better retort as she folded her arms defensively, "Now what, pray tell, is so important that you saw fit to interrupt my beauty sleep? And don't touch that light switch!" she growled, "Have some decency!"
There was, of course, a completely different reason for why the rich girl didn't want anyone to see her clearly right now, but fortunately the suit did not demand her to elaborate, "There was...a message for you, miss Edgeworth." he said at last, holding an envelope up in front of him like a riot shield, "A message of top priority."
Tacey was hardly mollified, striding over to her bodyguard with all the ferocity that a tired, emotionally frail fourteen-year old with a sheet trailing behind her could muster and snatching the message, "And just
what priority makes it so important that it couldn't wait until morning?!"
Rufus shuffled uncomfortably on the spot, "The messenger wouldn't say, miss. Confidential. But he was adamant that I hand it to your right away said that his hair would not leave this spot until I had delivered-"
"His hair, you say?" Tacey echoed, her eyes immediately darting to the envelope with newfound enthusiasm, "Very well, Rufus, you are excused. Just make sure not to repeat this behavior."
"Yes, miss."
After a few moments of awkward silence, Tacey finally spoke up again, "I said 'you are excused', Rufus." she said in a carefully level tone, "In layman's terms: leave. And
make sure that I'm not bothered again this evening."
"Yes, miss."
Shaking her head at her underlings' incompetence, the rich girl strode back to her bed, tossing the sheet onto it in an uncharacteristically haphazard manner and -- once she had made sure that Rufus was long gone and the door firmly shut once more -- flicked on the bedside lamp. Sure enough, the name of the sender was Pegasus J. Crawford. It was as she had expected, though this stilled the slight worry of having gained another obsessive stalker in the murder-hair henchman.
"Alright, Pegasus..." she mumbled, tearing up the seal on the envelope, "...this had better be good."
As she turned the opened piece of paper upside-down, Tacey was mildly surprised to see a small, dark blue box fall down on the mattress next to the expected letter. The inside of the box, much like Pegasus' suitcase, was lined with velvet, and located in a small indent within velvet, she discovered...playing cards? Not only that, she soon realized, but brand new cards, the names of which she had never recalled hearing.
Intrigued, Tacey quickly snatched up the letter, allowing her eyes to travel across the curly, effeminate handwriting.
For goodness' sake, this handwriting was girlier than hers!
"Greetings, Tacey-girl!
I do apologize for the inconvenient hour of delivery, but I'm a very busy man and for reasons which you have most likely already examined, an e-mail simply wouldn't do. Judai-boy has told me about what happened, and words can't express how distressed I am that you were involved in such an unfabulous turn of events. I was hoping that, for once, I could simply get people together for fun and children's card games without anyone losing a soul, but alas, it seems that this was not to be.
With this letter, I have enclosed a unique set of cards that I hope both you and your new duel spirit will appreciate. Think of them as my 'thank you' for a most entertaining duel, but just don't tell Kaiba-boy; you wouldn't believe
how jealous he gets over these little things.
But enough about him, I would also like to take this opportunity to invite you and the rest of your team to my fabulous island home at Duelist Kingdom. Our little get-together will be after the end of the second round of the tournament. Speaking of the second round...I have another little surprise in store for you, but spoiling it all in this letter would be no fun. If you're curious, feel free to ask Achan-boy about it. After all, sharing information is a crucial part of teamwork, is it not?
Best of luck with the next round, Tacey-girl, and may your exploits be ever-entertaining.
Sincerely,
Your ever-fabulous tournament host, Pegasus J. Crawford.
P.S: I've taken the liberty of replacing those horrid old holograms of yours with something a bit more stylish. Aren't the new models just fabulous
? I know your old card illustrations aren't up-to-date, but never fear, by the time you arrive at Duelist Kingdom I'll have a fresh set ready for you, not to mention a few extras. No need to thank me, I haven't had this much fun since that time I stole Kaiba-boy's soul and turned him into my personal kitchen boy. But enough about me..."
Tacey did not know whether to feel offended or grateful. In the end, she just settled for one canceling out the other. Pegasus' manner was almost too much, even on paper, but at least she had gotten some new cards for all her trouble. She was still dubious about the invite to Duelist Kingdom -- After all, when an eccentric millionaire of...Pegasus' disposition suddenly decided to invite a group of teenagers to his private island with a vague promise of new playing cards, one had to wonder if there wasn't an ulterior motive in there somewhere -- but there was still time to consider that offer. If nothing else, the letter had given her something to think about besides Achan.
"Unique cards..." Tacey mumbled sleepily, her eyelids slowly drooping as she peered at at the pink-framed card at the top of the pile, thinking -- for a moment -- that there was something distinctly familiar about the small, gray-clad girl sitting cross-legged on a throne while a distinguished looking man stood frozen in the process of placing a crown on her head while a crowd of spectators stared in awe, either at her or the crest above her head, one couldn't really tell, all under the heading of 'Hereditary Title', "Maybe, with these I could..."
She never managed to finish her sentence before sleep overcame her, the exhausted little girl falling fast asleep, cards clutched in one hand and letter in the other, with the nightstand lamp still burning brightly.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That morning had not been particularly kind to Tacey at all. Her feet still ached from yesterday's extracurricular activities and with that ache came a number of memories she would rather not have had. To compound the horror, last night's insomnia had made its presence known to such an extent that a number of the duelists staying at the Illusionist Hotel could have sworn that the strange little girl in the VIP Suite had done something very violent to at least three cats at the same time.
Regardless, Tacey hadn't gotten where she was by moping and crying when things didn't go her way.
Well, not by moping and crying
all the time, anyway. After spending a good hour in the bathroom with a make-up kit and a hairbrush she had eventually emerged in what she liked to think of as a more presentable condition. The black rings were still there, of course, but now they were covered by a protective layer of concealing make-up, a small deluge of facial toner having largely washed away her delicate skin's objection to such unhealthy levels of stress while her hair had been neatly combed out right down to the last strand.
All in all, Tacey had been very diligent about concealing every last bit of discontentment and misfortune in her visage. They were going to Japan, after all, and that meant that her fanclub would be there. If there was ever a time when she couldn't afford to drop her cheerful, lovable image it was now, when she was going to end up face-to-face with her admirers. She might have held a measure of quiet disdain for her fans, particularly the boys, but at the same she had a large ego to satisfy, and few knew how to stroke it quite like they did. In return, she could afford to give them nothing but what they expected to see: a confident, cute, and ruthless pro duelist. They wouldn't notice the extra make-up, she was sure; no-one would unless they came up close. However, to enforce her upbeat image, the rich girl had found it prudent to undergo a change of attire, trading in her old skirt and shirt for a bright yellow one-piece dress with a white collar, the hem of which reached well bellow knees, throwing in an orange, waist-length coat, currently unbuttoned, to protect her arms while the -- admittedly somewhat impractical -- black shoes had been exchanged for a softer, cerulean-colored pair. As a crowning piece for her look, she had thrown in a small, similarly colored handbag, the strap of which cross diagonally over her chest. It had been especially designed to look home-made, even though this obviously wasn't the case, not to mention that she really needed no containers for items at all with the four suitcase-carrying suits traveling around her.
One might have thought such prickishness to be over-the-top but Tacey knew that it was precisely these little touches that made all the difference. The fact that the ruthless competitive duelist looked like an innocent little girl was essential to her appeal and as such, she needed to act the part right down to the last detail.
Fortunately, she didn't need to put on the full act just yet, and as such, the Tacey who traversed the airport hall in the morning only bore an expression of polite indifference on her face as she moved through the customs routine with a determined stride and, with an equal amount of determination, took a seat in the waiting lounge without betraying any sign of having noticed her teammate, focusing on the small handheld she had obtained at the start of the tournament instead as she attempted to sort out her new decklist on the deck management screen in front of her while her suits settled down around her. She was being evasive, she knew. She was just putting off the inevitable, she knew that too. The mature thing to do would have been to speak to the boy and get things straightened out, she knew, but Tacey would be damned before she prostrated herself to Achan in such a way. As far as her opinion was concerned, this was still
Achan's mess first and foremost. If he wanted it sorted out, he'd have to be the one who humbled himself and made the first move. Then, if he admitted his mistakes and gave a proper apology, possibly throwing in a few nice words about her new outfit,
then maybe she would forgive him and they could act like yesterday had never happened...
...maybe she'd even give a 'sorry'. A small, non-committal one.
Maybe.
As long as it didn't involve
her having to admit guilt to anything anyway.
But if he was up to his usual standards...
Not a flicker of emotion crossed Tacey's features, not a sound left her lips, her full attention seemingly focused on the reel of trap cards reflected in her eyes.
Well, then she could hate him in good conscience for the rest of the tournament. Either way, she would win.
The ends of her mouth curled up by an almost indistinguishable amount, that was precisely the kind of situation she loved.
