The Magicians' Realm Chapter 33: For Revue, a yu-gi-oh fanfic

Chapter 33, everyone! In which dinner is had and files are delivered….We also get passing references to the Lackadaisy playing cards Tracy J. Butler has been working on and off on (which I am going to buy when they're finished and put on sale—they are gorgeous), and Grand Prix Boss, a Pokémon owned by MasamuneRevolution over on DeviantArt in the group PKMNation—it's a nice double-reference, as they name all their Pokémon after race horses. ;)

Angiembabe, thanks for the review! Yes she did! Eh, more like the boss was tired of the dithering and wanted his office back. :) Yes indeed! He could—well…picture Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas with Yami-hair. And true—this is Yami and Yugi's dream come true: "I can finally reach the top shelf without help!" Good question—he might be trying; dad-stuff and all. :D

Fromtheashtrees, thanks for the review! Well, let me put it this way: you ever see those bibs with the phrase "What is this no word you speak of?" Bakura probably deserves one. Yes…and it doubles as a nice Dick Van Dyke Show reference for good measure. Oh, most definitely—and it will be a good day. :D (was never that fond of Duke in the show, to be honest…). Yes…I like to think that it's because my memory's full of my stories and Ph.D. stuff, because the alternative is worrying about memory loss a good fifty years before I might get it. Yes, but unusual stuff linked with learning tends to work quite well—there are studies on it! I have read them! I had to read them for class! They exist! Plus, cake makes everything better (including video games—just look at Portal).

References:

Quantum Leap © 1989 Belisarius Productions ("To put right where once went wrong….")

Original characters + setting © Kineil D. Wicks (myself, not the girl in the story)

"Behold! The Lackadaisy Revue."

"Ah. I've seen this place before."

"But have you been in it?" Yami Skellington asked, putting an arm around Teana and propelling her towards the door. It was quite the sight—especially considering the brownstone would have looked remarkably normal if it weren't for Jake Hemlock's elaborate art deco painting adorning the front.

Mitzi had told him it was money well spent. Especially considering no one dared deface it—Tall Jake Hemlock had a tendency to break kneecaps if someone ruined his work.

"Do I have to go in it?" Teana asked, putting on the brakes. "It looks ostentatious."

"Only on the outside. And a little on the inside," Yami admitted. "But it has its charms," he added as he knocked on the door—he had playing cards with the same detail as the door, a little side-sell that Mitzi had hired Jake on for.

"Such as?"

"Our dear doorman Horatio. See? Hello Horatio," Yami greeted as Horatio opened the door. He flipped a lapel forward, revealing a small club suit pin.

Horatio, the Lackadaisy doorman, perpetuated his best impression of a very agreeable, roly-poly cat as he waved them in. "Yami, you know you don't really have to do that," Horatio said. "Your hair and that tie is ID enough. Hello," he added to Teana, bowing slightly.

"Hello," Teana said. "No offense, but I thought doormen were supposed to be intimidating—or at least, look the part."

"I know," Horatio said, sagging a little as he closed the door behind them. "I think they got my job and Viktor's mixed up."

"Who?" Teana asked as Horatio turned to answering the knock at the door and Yami escorted her down the short hall.

"Viktor Vasko. This charming fellow," Yami said, pointing at the one-eyed brute behind the bar immediately to the right. "Hello Viktor—how are the guineas?"

"Not running today," Viktor growled, not looking up from his paper. "But horses look good—I maybe bet on Grand Prix Boss one."

"I think Horatio is right," Teana said. "They got those jobs mixed up."

"Maybe," a new voice rejoined. "But Viktor has bad knees, so he can't kick people out as effectively anymore."

They turned to look as Mitzi May, co-proprietor of the Revue, sashayed up.

"And besides," Mitzi continued. "No one argues with Viktor when he says they've had enough to drink. Hello, honey, you must be Teana. I must say, it's good to see you."

"Thanks?" Teana noised, accepting Mitzi's handshake.

"This is Mitzi May," Yami said, introducing them. "And yes, Mitzi, this is Teana—I've been telling her all about the Revue."

"Only the legal stuff, I hope," Mitzi said, escorting them to a seat equidistant from the dance floor and Viktor's bar. She produced a card and set it on the table.

"Um…."

"He's usually more discerning than this," Mitzi said to Teana in an undertone. Then, at normal volume: "I'll get a few menus and a waiter sent over here—I'd love to chat a bit, but I have to tend to the Board. On that note, don't be surprised if Atlas seems dismayed upon seeing you," she added as she sashayed off.

Yami shrugged at Teana before pulling a chair out for her. "Atlas must have lost a bet," Yami supplied as she sat down.

"Does that happen often?" Teana asked.

"He's fortunate he makes his money in other venues," Yami said, taking his own seat. "Oh, hi Kineil."

Kineil leaned around Yami's chair and released his bangs. "So you finally show up," she declared. "And with Teana too—hello."

"You seem more civil this time around," Teana observed.

"I have reason to—plus, I get to be the bearer of bad news to our dear friend Maxwell. Max!" she bellowed, crossing over to an armchair a few tables over and slapping the back of a newspaper. "You lost a bet!"

"So what else is new?" Max asked her, not lowering the newspaper.

Yami tried very hard not to fidget as Teana took a slow take his way.

"It's a thing," he decided upon finally. "So….What would you like for dinner?"

*/*\*

Maxwell popped out of a shadow right behind the page charged with monitoring the traffic in and out of the Administrator Library. Popping directly into the library was unwise, considering it would result in disintegration.

Besides, this was more fun.

"Boo," Maxwell said, leaning in to hiss in the page's ear.

It had the desired effect—the page was off like a shot, Maxwell cackling in glee as he fled.

Ah, how aggravating, that this was what his life was reduced to.

He went off in search of the errant files, musing that if the minor Yami had really desired something in this library, he probably would have gotten it by now. Or maybe he was putting too much stock in the kid.

He mused over the whole thing as he collected the necessary files. Ah, if only his conscience, tattered as it was, would let him up and walk away.

He was already turning to leave when something occurred to him.

Well…there may be some way to right what once went wrong.

And, obliquely, give the other Administrators the shaft.

He strode back through the library, meandering through the increasingly dark warrens (kept so to keep the rowdier spellbooks under control) until he was past even the Restricted Section and into a room that even the Head Mage barely knew about—which was probably just as well, considering this was where the information on every person convicted and punished by the Administrators was stored.

He reached a filing cabinet marked with the appropriate year—the fact that it had taken him a few moments' walking to reach was concerning—pulled it open, and began examining the file names in the dim light. They weren't in any particular order, probably due to no one coming in here—no need to sort what no one saw. Wicks; Taylor; Wheeler; Rickaby; May, A. + M.; Pleasant, S. + I.; Hemlock….

Skellington….

Ah, there.

He pulled out a file, stuffed it in between the other files, and shut the cabinet before heading straight back out, waving the door shut behind him.

A few moments later saw him back outside the library, still page-less. He felt very pleased with that accomplishment.

"Carter!"

Ah, but of course—the page had gone running, and word had gotten to Sumbinix. On the positive side, thank you, Montgau.

"Ooh, I'd love to stay and chat," Maxwell said, holding up a finger and turning a smarmy grin on Sumbinix. "But I've got some files to deliver, and you've got a wig to straighten out. Ta!"

And with that, he departed through his shadows before Sumbinix could compose himself enough to issue an order.

The pleasure in the evasion was tempered with the knowledge that he'd end up buttonholed by the Head Administrator sooner or later.

But for now, time to have a little fun sowing some chaos—he wondered if he didn't perhaps have a strain of it that had somehow survived the Great Dearth.

And maybe he'd be able to banish some of that pesky guilt as well.

So it was with his customary broad, toothy grin that he deposited with a slam the stack of files on Montgau's desk—the man was still glaring at his ink blotter like it had wronged him somehow, and the resulting startled jump only added to Maxwell's glee.

"Special delivery," he announced.