Chapter 29

Marik was rudely awoken by Alice striding into his shared room with Bakura and wrenching the curtains open to pour sunlight directly onto his face. He growled and grumbled as he explained that the King of Spades wanted them up early enough to have breakfast and be suitably dressed for a game at the palace. Basically, it hinted that Marik and Bakura couldn't wear their tattered and torn shorts (which Bakura just pinned together after their activities back at the mansion) or else the Queen would be offended.

"Wouldn't want to offend Queen Bitch now, would we?" Alice smiled as he walked out, heeled boots clicking loudly on the floor and rousing the two circus performers further from their slumber.

"No, no, of course not." Bakura grumbled, sitting up and wiping the sleep from his eyes before flopping back down on the bed and snuggling under the covers again. "Mmm, warm." He sighed.

"Get up, lazy ass." Marik shoved him, shuffling out of bed himself to look out of the window. People were already busy wandering the streets, going about their daily lives, and it was barely even dawn. The indigo colours of the night had still to fully leave the sky. The lion yawned widely, jaw cracking quietly.

"I don't have to get up. I'm not molesting birds." Bakura mumbled from his cocoon of covers, only his hair visible as he burrowed deeper.

Marik picked up one of the boots the red-eyed knife thrower had tossed carelessly on the floor and just lobbed it at him, hitting his head with a satisfying 'Ow!' emitted from his victim. "If I have to get up, so do you." The blonde told him, pulling on his shorts that were hung on the bedpost for some reason. "Besides I know you're gonna want to sneak off and try and break out Akefia from the dungeon."

"Mmph, true." Bakura emerged slightly from the covers, blearily looking over at his companion. "Pass us my clothes then." He ordered, his drowsiness evident in his voice.

Marik smirked and shook his head. "Can't be bothered getting them then run around naked." He retorted before walking out of the room and down to the breakfast hall where he knew his new friends would be waiting.

Only Alice and the March Hare were sat at the table reserved for them, surrounded by what Marik had begun to dub 'The Wonderland Breakfast', which was basically a table filled with everything you could ever think of for a morning meal. He sat down and reached straight for the pancakes and bacon.

"And people say I like weird combinations." The March Hare commented, amused at the sight of Marik biting into the bacon-pancake sandwich he'd made.

"You do. That's nearly normal compared to you." Alice chided him with a smile, "Blood and tea, really Marchy?" He rolled his violet eyes with a giggle, earning a glare from the red-wearing hare.

"Don't call me Marchy. It's bad enough that the freakin' Hatter does it." The March Hare grumbled, sipping his tea with a little more force than necessary, teeth clinking against the china.

"Well its less of a mouthful than 'The March Hare'." Alice pouted slightly, fluffing his tri-coloured hair idly. "And you don't like me using your real name."

"Why not?" Marik asked with his mouth full of pancake and bacon.

"To some people, real names are more of a term of affection and endearment," Alice explained, cutting off the March Hare because he knew his version would be longer, "It didn't used to be like that, but since a lot of people use nicknames instead of real names, real names became more of an intimate thing to use. Not to know, though. I think its law that you have to introduce yourself by your real name and nickname."

"Queen's law." The white haired hare nodded in agreement, "Stupid law. It was done anyways. Just now there's a punishment involved."

"Beheading?" Marik guessed, and winced when the two others nodded. Beheading seemed to be the punishment for everything. "Queen loves head." He chuckled to himself, causing his table companions to chortle into their tea.

Pretty soon they were joined by the Cheshire Cat and Bakura, who slid into their respective places by their partners. Everyone munched along in moderate silence before the King of Spades strode in, decked out in his royal garbs.

"Ok, March Hare, Marik, with me." He ordered, beconing them with a gloved finger. "We need to get you into more suitable clothes. I don't want you to be disqualified simply because Queen Bitch doesn't like how you dress."

"I'm not wearing shoes." Marik grumbled as he rose and followed along with the hare. "I hate wearing shoes."

"Tough luck, you have to." The March Hare elbowed him gently and stopped him from pouting, "Rule number thirty-five; all contestants and competetors much wear suitable footwear for the lawn." He shook his head as they left their friends eating breakfast. "Stupid rule. Actually most of them are stupid. I think he just wants to see what he can get away with."

"Answer; everything." The King of Spades said darkly.