Step One

James was kicked out of the house. Literally. All that persuasion and it utterly failed. James could have sworn Ebony was convinced, even for a moment. But it doesn't matter now.

James stood up and dusted himself off. If Ebony doesn't want to join, then he will just have to go it alone. That thought put a wrench in his plans. Ignoring everything else about the two, he (pitifully) needed their money. After all, losing everything might make someone a mite poorer.

"I still don't understand. Why? Why would she not want everything I promised? I wasn't even lying! Very well. From now on, we're enemies!" James muttered, utterly convinced of his new promise.

Suddenly, he heard the door behind him open. He turned to look and saw Ebony being pulled out by Verity. Ebony was obviously in a state of protest, while Verity seemed pretty excited.

"Mr. James, me and Ebony have come to join you!" Said Verity happily.

Then again, promises were made to be broken.

Ebony was vigorously shaking her head no, but it was clear Verity was ignoring her. When Verity reached James, (while still pulling a silently protesting Ebony), she looked at James with obvious admiration.

"Ebony told me about your plan to reach the top of the world, and I wanted to join! I wanna see what it's like to be famous! and the money!" Verity said, while James noticed that her eyes changed from excitement to something akin to serious greed.

"I can work with greed" James thought. He looked at Ebony, who seemed to be pissed, with a small smile that was very obviously mocking. He was giving the 'Look at that, I win.' smile. Ebony's face twisted from silent protest to intense dislike of James, but she knew that she lost, for real this time, or so James believed anyway.

"Fine. To the Greeaaat unknowwwn." Ebony said, rolling her eyes and with such obvious sarcasm even Verity noticed. Verity wisely did not say anything about it. James had to physically restrain his vocal cords from pointing it out in some mocking way.

James looked over the two, thinking of what to do now that he officially had some pawns. James realized that he didn't even have a real plan. He decided that the obvious first step was to look at his phone to see what kind of tournaments were even going on. Maybe his grand plan wouldn't even get off the ground.

James looked at his phone, trying to discreetly look at the current tournaments going on, as to not showcase that he really did not have ANY plan. Unfortunately, even Verity noticed that James was looking up something on his phone.

"What are you looking at James?" Ebony said, dubiousness obvious on her face, and when she looked over to Verity, (who seemed to start to be a tiny bit dubious herself) a hint of smugness.

"You wouldn't happen to be looking at something vitally important that you maybe should have looked at before asking us for help?" Ebony said, enunciating every other word. Her dubiousness was slowly transforming into full-blown smugness.

"Well, if you insist. I was looking at the current fastest routes to the tournament. I should have honestly looked at the routes earlier, but convincing someone like you to join was more headache than I wanted on my mind at the moment." James said, showing Ebony the route to the nearest tournament, smoothly covering up the fact that he didn't even know there was a Battlefield tournament over there in the first place.

Verity's slowly dubious look slipped comfortably back into her admiring smile, with even a bit of laughter. Ebony looked at James with stunned shock at the obvious mockery by James, but also looked a bit mollified at the fact that a fast route wasn't actually all that important. It seemed James had at least a bit of a plan. Ebony looked closer at the route and the description of the tournament.

"Welcome to the Balzec Tournament! A chance to show what you're really made of, as well as win one of the few World Cup Tournament tickets! We have an exciting roster tonight, so hurry before all the places are filled up!" Ebony read aloud. She looked at James with confusion.

"World Cup Tournament? What is that? I've never heard of it before." Ebony asked James. Then her face twisted with silent anguish that she legitimately had to ask James about something she didn't know. For once, James didn't notice the look Ebony was giving him.

"Ah, the World Cup Tournament. Well, to put it simply, it is a tournament set up by various world leaders for the best battlefield players of all time. Only the best of the best get in. That's why they have a bunch of small tournaments to determine who gets a ticket. Only winners go through." James said confidently, sounding like a very well informed person who did his research.

Ebony looked at James with an eyebrow raised, a little impressed. Maybe he did have this whole thing figured out.

James looked at Ebony's slightly impressed face and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god she bought it. He had no clue what he was doing. Good thing those little info blurbs on the tournament were there, he would have had no answer otherwise.

Ignorance aside, James himself realized what a chance would be for one of those tickets. His aspirations were to win a government sanctioned tournament, but a chance to literally be the best in the world? That was more his style. He started to smile in excitement at the very prospect of it. Ebony and Verity could only ever ride his coattails, and STILL be more rich and famous than their wildest dreams. It was perfect! A win for their entire group!

"So, should we go? The nearest route is only a few minutes away. we could literally walk to the tournament." Ebony said, with nearly no hostility, (which was very unusual for her when she was speaking to James).

James smiled.

"After you my lady" James said, bowing to Ebony for her to take the lead.

The three of them left, walking to the Balzec tournament. Meanwhile, in the shadow of Ebony's house, Stood a silhouette of someone with longish hair, wearing some kind of jacket. They were quietly watching the trio walk away, having heard everything they said. They shrug their shoulders, before walking off, whistling a tune to themselves.