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Singing Chips
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Everyone present came to know something new that day:
The audience knew what it was to see a bunny woman in a french maid uniform growing several times her size, so big as to make the table beneath her creak with strain, before lunging forward with a bestial roar.
Strawberi knew what it was like to be punched in the face, hard enough as to send her seat tumbling backwards to the floor.
And Warwick knew what it was like to feel shocked enough to drop all his lady’s luggage to the floor completely dumbfounded.
“Miss Strawberi! MISS STRAWBERI! OH, HEAVENS ABOVE, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!” He screams, rushing to his charge’s side in a split second. Amidst the exclamations, cheering, and cackling from the crowd, two other figures rush to their side.
“Ow, ow ow! That hurt! That actually hurt! I’ve struck! I’ve been wounded! Someone please, fetch a physician!” Strawberi mewls and hollers.
“Uhm, Lady Strawberi...” Genevieve says once she reaches the pair, “The game’s apparitions can’t cause actual harm, only a brief sensation of it.”
“It still hurt!” the little noblegirl says, then points a finger towards Ceridwen, “she is a dangerous criminal. She struck a member of nobility! Someone arrest her!”
“Wow, wow, relax gi- err, lady,” says Conway, raising his arms in an appeasing fashion, “I don't think we are in a country or, um, jurisdiction where that is considered worthy of jail time. And besides, like Gevieve says, no real harm was done!” He shrugs, smiling confidently.
“Ow, ow, my pride!” Strawberi moans.
Still sitting at the table, Ceridwen takes in all this without a word, calmness still etched on her face.
Then a smile briefly breaks the edge of her mouth with a twitch. A moment later, it twitches again, and again, until a wide grin is etched on her face from ear to ear.
Suddenly, she stands up, raising her fists and knocking the table and all it carries to the floor.
“I won! I WON! I can’t believe it! Ican’tbelieveit!” She exclaims, spinning and jumping around the chairs and littered cardboard pieces, “Iwassonervous IthoughtIwouldnotbeabletokeepthewholestoicthing togetherandshewouldseewhaIwasdoing andshewouldcounteritagainandsteal morecardsbecauseImusuallysoclumsy atlyingandkeepingastraightfacebutshe couldnttellIwaspretendingsoshewentalong andIbeatherandIactuallywonanotherduel andImgoingtothe quarterfinalseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEH!”
“What is she even rating about?” Strawberi asks, finally standing up as Warwick offers her his hand.
“I think she is just really happy she won,” says Genevieve, not knowing whether to feel amused or annoyed at the absurdity of it all.
“Hmph! There truly is no justice when a vile bigrand like her gets to celebrate over such travesty!”
“I’m just glad you are unharmed, Miss Strawberi,” says Warwick, patting her comfortingly, not quite daring to hug her, despite his relieved expression. “To be honest, we got pretty close to winning! And there was no way to tell whether she would pull something out to counteract your brilliant combo.”
“Yeah, that was an amazing last few moves you guys pulled,” says Conway with an encouraging fingergun, “you kept throwing all kinds of effects and countereffects, I could barely even keep up! Kind of a shame that lady pulled one of her own at the last second, really.”
“Yes. All things considered, it was a very good duel and there was no shame in how it came to end,” Genevieve adds reassuringly.
“Hrmph…I’m still not happy about it, but…thanks, I… appreciate your plebian assurances.”
“Yes, don’t mention it,” says Genevieve with a mildly amused expression.
“I also appreciate your advice from earlier, “Strawberi says hesitantly, “Futile though it was, it did help us stay in the game a while longer.”
“You are welcome,” replies Genevieve, now showing a genuine smile, “It was a pleasure watching you play, honestly.”
“Hey, this was a fun game overall, right?” Conway says, “Speaking of fun games, what say we go play a bit at the penny arcade the dimensional portal over? Or, wait! It’s almost time for lunch, right? We can hang out in the food courtyard outside the main atrium and order something. My treat.”
“Thank you, Mr. Conway,” says Genevieve, “But I wouldn’t want to take advantage of someone I’ve just met. I’ve plenty of money to pay for my own meal.”
“Please, I insist. I have enough money to spare and you guys look like you could use some cheering up,” Conway replies, with gestures as wild as his ever-present smile, “and just Conway is fine.”
“Well, in that case, thank you kindly, Conway.”
“Anytime!”
“Hey, uh…” Ceridwen waves her hand towards the quartet, her expression turning apologetic, “I, uh, couldn’t help but hear what you were saying… Sorry for playing coy at the last moment, but I needed to do it if I wanted to stand a chance at beating you. Can I come have lunch with you as well? You don’t have to pay for it or anything, I just want to hang out with you a bit, you seem like nice guys,“ she gives a shy smile, then frowns slightly, “Well, most of you at least.”
As Ceridwen finishes making her request, all eyes silently turn to look at Strawberi.
“...I suppose I can be magnanimous and forgive your earlier slight, given your present groveling. Mind you, I still think you are miscreant, but never be said that Lady Strawberi Sugarplum is not gracious in defeat!” she proclaims.
“Good enough for me!” Conway shrug merrily, “ let’s go get some grub.”
“Yeah, I’m starving!” Says Ceridwen.
“Very well, then,” says Strawberi, “Onward to the luncheon courtyard!”
“Ooh, could I have some scones for dessert, my lady?” Warwick asks.
“No. Also, pick up my things.”
“Aw.”
[Ceridwen Wins!]
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