#that he ‘had friends waiting for him’ while rishid didn’t

[ectoplasmer]

i love my boyfriend i love my boyfriend so mych he is so soft and warm and comfy and pretty and

[ladyyatexel]

I Went On A Manga Binge

So you don't have to

For those of you who have wisely avoided the shreds of it I've left around the blog thus-far, I had some weird notion to go re-experience Yu-Gi-Oh uuuuuh a week ago? We'll go with that. Time is meaningless.

I'd been able to read a good portion of the early manga at the end of highschool, and somewhere in my stacks and stacks of paper is fanart from this dark time, so you know I cared. I also still own a Dark Magician action figure somehow, so. I'd also watched a large portion of the anime with my brother because it had been laced with some kind of crack and we couldn't look away? I remember when we both were just like shit, wait, don't change the channel, I can't stop looking at it. And the next thing we knew we were waiting for new episodes and I was doing research on the Japanese original because I was that kid.

Anyway, unnecessary backstory out of the way, here are some... let's call them Observations and Consequences of having read somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 chapters (and growing) of a manga primarily hinged on card games from a spectrum of sources ranging from boringly lawful to sketchy as fuck.

Surprise actual character that develops in typical shounen fashion being Jounouchi. My limited experiences with the 4Kids dub and only early manga had not painted him in a particularly good light. I don't know if episodes were being aired out of order or if I had just missed the ones that established that he was making shit up as he was going along, but Wow I liked him a lot more going through the manga than I ever did watching the (dubbed, heavily edited and censored and thrown into a slurry machine) anime. I'd managed to come out with the impression that he was just as reasonably experienced with the game as Yugi back in the day. Wild.

I'm now reading every single comic-style post on Tumblr backwards.

Striking inverse to first point, wow, I don't like Seto Kaiba. Though he gets points for his general philosophy of the future, and the line I read in my sketchy online combo of scans and scanlations in which he said, "If God is in your way, you run him down," was Metal As Fuck. I somewhat shame-facedly admit to enjoying him a lot more as an Abridged Series character. (I watched Abridged as it came out back in the day! The experience of watching the anime with my brother had been so fresh that I got all the in jokes about the way things were edited and dubbed, it was great. Series remains influential part of my life to this day, which is hella weird.)

I almost understand how Duel Monsters works now. I don't want this.

That said, wow a lot of the decisions made in the anime made everything a lot more ridiculous than the admittedly already ridiculous original. I got the distinct feeling in the manga that the Duelist Kingdom stuff we were seeing was designed to be used and exploited in ways that don't make sense in an actual cardgame just played on a table like a normal person and this was part of testing everyone to think higher, differently. Maybe this is obvious to everyone already, I don't know. I had always liked that it was very, 'Not so fast, I'm going to blow up the moon to change the tides,' but I'm not really sure the anime gave enough explanation that this was an extra layer added to things for that event? You can see people actively getting used to it in the books, and people who aren't considering the real or 3D nature of it getting owned, but my memory of anime version is everyone just like, 'oh, shucks, fuck me, I forgot to consider the phase of the moon before i played this card, can't believe I forgot.' No one calls Yugi on any of this stuff because it's valid play in that situation. Plus Yami Yugi had mad trickster energy in the beginning and it suited him to think of ways to do things inside these little simulation boxes the way it suited him to set perverts on fire. I imagine the real card game trying to emulate this element as something that would be to its detriment, but I neither know nor particular care haha

Ryou Bakura.

Really, though. I think he became kind of casualty of 'wow, we have a lot of characters who really aren't able to do anything in this story anymore,' despite the fact that his whole inner life could have been as interesting as Yugi's. I always like thinking about the possibilities of stories in which main character falls into magical world and is given magical item and told they're the hero and then they find out they've been the bad guy the whole time. The first several volumes of manga were about the quiet weirdo kid that no one talked to who was always blacking out and turning into a fucked up version of himsef because he was so attached to his ancient Egyptian jewelry, so like, Bakura could have much the same shit going on. I want to know what's happening with him so much. He clearly doesn't love being possessed, but he's also so drawn to the ring. Despite it having stabbed him at least twice and him knowing it's a danger to him and his friends, he keeps being pulled back into it. You see so much more of him being like, 'Oooh, a creepy thing, I love that! :D' in the manga than ever in the anime, which I'm all about. Also more blood. I'm very about that as well. Though my memory of the anime also made it look very much like normal regular daily Bakura was just a weird facade in places before he ever would have been. I think that was it trying to compensate for what people didn't see from the Toei anime, but okay whatever, that I love everything about this guy is not news, I don't need to talk about Bakura excessively here, I'm pretty sure that's gonna show up on my blog by itself

On a related note though, damn, more of these people need to talk to each other. Can we have some existential crisis support clubs or something. Can we get like some apologies or something? "I respect you as a duelist." "Cool, but you literally built a tower designed to specifically assassinate me and my friends? You were supposed to get Better after I retaliated by putting you in a coma, but you kinda didn't." "Why would the coma have made it better" "I just told you it didn't" ---- "Sorry I went along with the plan of your evil parasite stabbing you, misled you, and then also jumped in and took up some real estate in your head too." "I understand, I also have an evil thing inside me that does things while I'm blacked out." "...no, I was conscious for all of that." "Oh." "..." "..." "..." "Do you like Ouija Boards?" "sure okay" ETC. Like damn we are reading shounen manga because no one is talking extensively about their feelings here and I'm tapping my foot angrily.

Holy shit there are so many mythologies happening at once. The ancient family guarding the Egyptian Pharaoh has a surname that's a Mesopotamian goddess. None of the god cards make any Egyptian sense except Ra, and just like. Baaarrrrely. Somewhere either Evil Ring Bakura or Mar/lik makes a reference to cremation and spirits being taken to heaven with smoke which several things, but definitely not Ancient Egyptian. Marik/Malik meanwhile is clearly trying to head Arabic, along with Rishid, but then, hey, our sister is just Isis. Goddess McGoddess. Sometimes they're the same goddess! Her name could be Isis Isis or Ishtar Ishtar. Meanwhile, all the obviously 'occult because Christians think it is freaky' stuff. ~ancient egyptian pentagrams~~~This isn't a complaint, I guess so much as a 'Wow, I can kind of see the cultural spot the author was coming from and where he was aiming' kind of thing.

Wonder where things would have gone if the card games had not been latched onto the way they were.

Managed to forget how gross the pre-cardgames stuff was on the sexual harassment front. I'm glad there was a sort of explanation of everyone drifting away from being dick heads and that that decision was made. It got way more comfortable to read after no one was bringing Yugi p*rn on VHS.

Yugi looks better with a nose, glad we got that upgrade.

Interesting to watch the series style shift as it goes away from being horror to being over the top cardgames and friendship (with blood!). The first picture of Mokuba is fucking Jarring. Also noticed that the nicer a character is, the less their teeth are defined.

Glad manga did not go as completely off the fucking the rails about Marik's face. I never got as far as seeing him back in the day because college occurred, but I remember seeing pictures and stuff and being like, "what in the Fuck happened to that dude, I think the house style has collapsed in on itself"

Things the author Really Likes: motorcycles, belts, SHOES, holy shit the shoes. These are some of the most lovingly rendered sneakers I've ever seen. All the detail on his characters goes straight to their feet and then it's stretched upward until it forms stiff peaks. Gently fold in 3000 years of trauma and bake face down in a crumb coat of scattered mythology. Remove when you roll two zeros.

Where the fuck am I going to put the extremely large omnibus volumes of this comic I purchased in order to balance out how much I would be reading for free on the internet. I should have grasped that a three in one edition would be Thick and yet somehow I was still :O when it arrived. Have I strategically purchased volumes that contain my favorite parts, maybe, what's it to you will i eventually get the whole thing because incomplete book series gnaw on my soul? yes

Wish the transition from "I've murdered several people in delightfully karmic ways" to "all you need is friendship in your heart and cards in your hand" Yami Yugi/Pharaoh had been discussed more/transitioned better. Buddy, where did you get this approved for television high horse? Please go back to strangling people with yo-yos or at least tell me why you stopped.

I still can't tell anything that looks like a big robotic monster apart from any other big robotic monster. My dude, I can't tell cars apart, all these monsters look the same.

Yami Yugi fascinated me way more in highschool? Maybe because it was still super early and the anime was like 'we need to torture you about his origins WeEkLy. Now I'm just like 'wait hold on, can we go back to Bakura and Marik for a minute, there's some extreme unpacking to do here?' Those two are paying so much more in baggage fees here my guy wow

Violently uninterested in any of the spinoff media

[auberginesdonthavelimbs]

Phanniemay Day 22: Memories

Word count: 3432

TW for brief discussion of a minor injury, extensive discussion of grief and of problems with memory

(This is a sequel to Grave. You don’t have to read that to understand this, but it does provide some context. part 3 here.) 

Vlad was walking with purpose. He would have preferred to be flying, of course, but he never had gotten the hang of flying inside these rotating habitats. The sudden shift in the gravity he was experiencing, and in his perception of the ground below from stationary to moving, always left him disoriented. And flying disoriented in such close quarters was just asking for trouble. So he stuck with walking, at least until the habitats got big enough that it would be a non-issue. There were already designs, of course, several of which he himself had worked on, but there were other infrastructure priorities at the moment.

The reason that Vlad was walking purposefully was that he had just had a disconcerting conversation with Daniel’s housemate, Rishid. They had come to him because they were worried about Daniel, and they hoped Vlad could help since he was also a half ghost, and Daniel’s oldest friend. That last comment surprised Vlad more than anything. He spoke with Daniel maybe a handful of times in a decade, and half of those times were work-related. Vlad had assumed Daniel hardly thought of him, let alone talked about him, let alone called him a friend. But, evidently, he did, and it was enough to convince Rishid that Vlad was the person to turn to in a crisis. Well, Vlad hoped this wasn’t a crisis, per se, but a difficult time, at least.

Honestly, Vlad wasn’t sure what, precisely, he was walking into. Rishid said they’d rather let Daniel explain, himself. All they really said was that he was upset and crying. No surprise there, Vlad thought - Daniel was an emotional man. A small, sad smile played across Vlad’s lips as he remembered that there had been a time when Daniel would seek Vlad out when he was in distress, and he would cry into his shoulder, sometimes for hours. Vlad cherished those memories, faint though they were, muddied by the intervening centuries. More than half a millennium, Vlad realized with a pang. It felt like longer. It felt like no time at all.

Vlad stopped. 7116, this was Daniel’s house. Vlad had known the address ever since Daniel had moved here, but he had never actually visited. He’d meant to bring a housewarming present, but then enough time passed that it would have been strange, and he hadn’t found another excuse to visit. Until now. His hand hovered in front of the screen for far too long.

What was he doing here? There was no way that Daniel would want to talk to him, especially right now. He didn’t even want to talk to him when everything was going well. Vlad had let himself get sentimental. Whatever Rishid thought, he and Daniel weren’t friends anymore, not really. Though it pained him to admit it, Daniel was almost certainly closer to his housemate, whom he had known less than two decades and who would be dead in another eight or nine at the most, than he was to Vlad. And, though Daniel continued to foolishly insist on spending most of his time with humans, he had other ghost friends, too, who would be more qualified to help him if his problem was somehow ghost-related.

But … Rishid’s words echoed in his mind. You’re his oldest friend. You know him better than anyone. What could Daniel have said to make them think that? You can help him. Vlad didn’t know whether that was true, but he desperately wanted it to be. He wanted to be there for Daniel. He wanted to be the reason that he stopped crying.

Vlad could feel that thing with feathers perching in his soul, and he knew he was setting himself up for disappointment and pain. He knew it would hurt to be rejected all over again, to relive all those decades of drifting apart in a single, brutal instant. But he couldn’t help himself. If there was any chance of repairing his relationship with Daniel, he had to take it. And, even if this day had no impact at all on their relationship in the long term, what kind of a friend would he be if he didn’t even try to help Daniel out of a crisis just because he was afraid of his own feelings getting hurt? Certainly not the kind of friend that Rishid thought he was, that Daniel had apparently described him as.

Vlad placed his palm on the screen beside the door, waiting the requisite moment for the AI to scan it, pull his identity from the database, and announce his presence to the occupants of the house. Then he put his hand back by his side and waited. It was up to Daniel, now, to decide how this would go.

Vlad considered turning around and walking away at least five distinct times in the minute it took Daniel to respond. The response, when it came, was not in the form that Vlad had expected. He thought Daniel would ask him what he was doing here, or how he dared to presume that this was in any way appropriate, or at least to tell him to fuck off. Instead, the only response was the door opening (well, technically it hadn’t moved, only become temporarily intangible). Vlad hesitated another moment and then stepped inside.

He was unsurprised to find that the house was extensively decorated with art and memorabilia from the past few centuries. On the wall to his right, two large picture frames hung side-by-side, one showing a book cover and the other a movie poster. They shifted simultaneously to show a different cover and poster, respectively. Vlad didn’t recognize any of the titles. To the left was a shelf covered in models, and Vlad realized after a moment that they were all projects that Daniel had worked on in some way, including the first prototype rotating space habitat and a satellite which was currently in orbit around the Sun, gathering data and making predictions about solar storms.

Most of the decorations had some connection to science or science fiction, except for one - a landscape painting that dominated the far wall. Though Vlad could not remember having seen the painting before, he knew immediately who the artist was, and why it had such a prominent position. Vlad shook his head. “When will you let go of her?” he whispered to the empty room.

He was pulled out of his momentary revery by the sound of someone upstairs blowing their nose. Vlad reminded himself as he ascended the stairs not to be so judgemental with Daniel. That was exactly what had ruined their relationship the first time. If Daniel didn’t want his advice, then he wouldn’t give it, no matter how right he was.

As he got closer, he could hear Daniel taking shuddering, gasping breaths. It was obvious that he had very recently been crying very hard, and was trying to get himself under control before Vlad walked in. Vlad was upset by the thought that Daniel might be ashamed to cry in front of him, after everything they had been through, but he reassured himself with the fact that Daniel would find it very difficult to talk about his feelings while he was sobbing uncontrollably.

There was no screen beside the bedroom door, so Vlad had little guidance on the protocol for this situation. Should he just walk in? That seemed rude. Was he supposed to knock? That seemed redundant - Daniel had certainly already sensed his presence. Vlad had hoped that Daniel might invite him in, but, evidently, he was going to need to take initiative here. He reached a hand out. It passed through the door unfettered. Vlad took another moment to gather himself before stepping through. And then Vlad was in Daniel’s bedroom, for the first time since before Daniel had stopped aging. And there he was, sitting cross-legged on his bed, eyes wet. The sense of familiarity was almost dizzying, though Vlad couldn’t place the exact time or context of the occasion he was reminded of.

Vlad had absolutely no idea what to say, or do. He stood in front of the door in silence while Daniel stared at him, his breath coming more and more regularly. Vlad noticed belatedly that the bed - indeed, the entire room - was covered in papers. Genuine, old-fashioned, wood-pulp papers, most crumpled up, all with some markings on them. Some were covered in text, some had rough sketches of people or places. It seemed that most of the crumpled papers had only a few words or strokes upon them. Vlad turned his attention back to Daniel. Though his posture seemed superficially relaxed, his right hand was gripped so tightly around the ink pen it held that his knuckles were white, and his entire right arm was shaking slightly.

Vlad took a small, cautious step forward. Daniel didn’t react. He took another step, and then another. The room wasn’t large. If he moved forward any more, his shins would be pressed against the side of the bed.

“Daniel,” he began, but he didn’t know how to continue.

“Vlad.” Daniel’s voice was even, and his face hardly moved. Whatever his feelings were about Vlad being here, he was obviously putting some effort into keeping them hidden. Or else, he was entirely unaffected. Vlad’s eyes drifted back toward the pen in the shaking hand. He could easily pick up any of the papers, or even just read some of those that were clearly visible from where he was standing. But, despite their visibility, Vlad knew intuitively that what was on them was meant to be private, and that reading them would be overstepping his bounds. So instead he gestured to the pages and asked,

“What are all of these?” Daniel looked around. By his expression, Vlad half expected him to say, ‘oh, hey, I hadn’t noticed those,’ but, thankfully, he apparently decided not to be quite that difficult.

“I’m writing … a memoir, of sorts.” Ah, that did explain things. Unsure what reaction it might provoke, Vlad started picking up papers to clear a space on the bed. He still didn’t read any of them, but he could see the pictures on several. Daniel’s childhood home. His high school. His parents. Samantha. Vlad thought of the landscape painting in the sitting room, and reminded himself, again, not to criticize or offer unwanted advice.

When he had uncovered enough of the surface area of the bed, Vlad placed the papers in his hands carefully to the side, then crawled onto the bed with as much dignity as could be expected. He sat cross-legged directly in front of Daniel, trying to mirror his posture. When he spoke, he did so carefully, keeping his tone as even as possible. Daniel would project his own emotions onto the words, and he would tell Vlad more with his reaction than he would be willing to say explicitly. Of course, Vlad already had a strong suspicion of what his reaction would be.

“You’re having trouble remembering the past, and your human family in particular.” It wasn’t a question, and Daniel didn’t answer it like one. Instead, he screwed his eyes shut against the tears that suddenly threatened to spill over. The pen in his hand snapped, and Vlad realized that the tension in Daniel’s hand and arm hadn’t been because of the force with which he was gripping the pen, but rather because he had been straining to keep himself from breaking it.

Daniel didn’t unclench his fist, and Vlad saw a drop of blood leak from between his fingers. He moved blindingly fast, grabbing Daniel’s fist and turning it intangible. The pen, along with several more drops of blood and ink, fell onto the bed. Vlad tried to uncurl Daniel’s fingers, but he met enough resistance that he was afraid of causing more damage if he forced them.

“Daniel, open your hand.” Vlad was surprised when Daniel immediately complied, though the rest of his body remained motionless. Vlad carefully touched his fingertips to the damaged skin. His hand, and then Daniel’s, glowed for a moment with a soft blue light. As Vlad channeled healing energy into it, the small wound closed over, leaving nothing but smooth skin in its place. Satisfied, Vlad drew back.

Daniel put both of his hands in his lap, twining his fingers together. After another moment, he relaxed his face, letting the tears flow freely, though he kept his eyes closed. He let out a breath that he had apparently been holding. For a minute, it was silent but for the sounds of both men breathing slowly. Daniel was the first to break the silence, his voice betraying emotion for the first time.

“I know I remember them. I know I remember them. The memories are all there, inside me. I just can’t -” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale. Vlad could tell that Daniel was trying very hard to keep his composure. He wanted to help, but he wasn’t sure what to do. He lifted his right hand, but he was too far to place it comfortingly on Daniel’s shoulder. He settled for his knee and hoped that was sufficient. Daniel’s eyes snapped open, and Vlad immediately pulled back. That had been stupid, of course the last thing Daniel would want would be -

Vlad’s train of thought was interrupted by Daniel grabbing his hand. He looked down at their hands, and then back up to Daniel’s face. He looked as surprised as Vlad felt, but he didn’t let go. Their hands slowly lowered - Vlad wasn’t sure who was directing the movement - until they were resting on the bed between the two men. Daniel took another deep breath, and he didn’t seem to be crying anymore.

“I -” He paused, apparently thinking. “I guess … I guess Rishid went and got you.” Vlad nodded. “I think I really scared them. I was kind of … freaking out.” Daniel scratched the back of his head with his free hand. It was an old, almost childish gesture that Vlad knew to mean that Daniel was embarrassed. “Uhm,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “Your name may have come up.” Vlad raised an eyebrow. “I was saying, well, that you were right. That I should have listened to you, about, like, holding onto the past. It’s pointless. People die, and even memories don’t last forever.”

By the end of his little speech, Daniel’s smile had faded, and his voice had taken on a tone of resignation. He was talking exactly the way Vlad always talked about these things, and Vlad was struck by how much that pained him. He should be thrilled that Daniel was finally learning the lesson he had tried to teach him centuries ago, but Vlad found no joy in watching his old friend lose the spark of optimism that had always defined him.

“Yes,” Vlad said softly, “they do. And no, they don’t. But … Daniel, it isn’t wrong to want to remember. It’s good to take pleasure in happy memories. I’ve often reminisced about times long gone … about you.” It was Daniel’s turn to raise an eyebrow, and Vlad’s turn to laugh sheepishly. “I know, I know. But I have missed you, little badger. I’ve missed a lot of people. The reason I told you so many times to let go is that I’ve known the pain of hanging on, and the futility. But I never meant for you to completely lose touch with the past. Your past is who you are.” Daniel looked confused. How to explain …?

“How much do you imagine I remember about your mother?” Daniel obviously hadn’t been expecting that question. His eyebrows scrunched together and he shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

“Not much more than you, I’d wager. It’s been a long time for both of us. But,” he said quickly, as Daniel started to cast his face downward, “I don’t need to remember everything she ever said to me or every day we spent together. I carry her in myself, just as you do. Granted, she’s not the best example for me. There was a lot of bad blood between us for a long time. But you, you’re her son. You have her determination, her love of science, her drive for self-improvement.” Daniel smiled, and Vlad returned the expression as he continued. “You have your father’s penchant for drama, your sister’s belief in doing whatever makes you happy, no matter what other people think.” Vlad paused, thinking again of the landscape painting. He knew that bringing up Samantha was probably either the best or worst thing he could do right now. But Daniel seemed to have calmed down significantly, so he decided to risk it.

“You have your wife’s dedication to justice,” he said slowly, gauging Daniel’s reaction. He inhaled sharply, but he didn’t look angry or sad. “You have her aesthetic appreciation. You have her belief in the importance of education. … You have her heart, Daniel, and that is not something you can lose so easily. Your memories will fade, but your heart, and, in it, the hearts of everyone who has loved you, will always remain.”

Daniel glanced at the crumpled papers on the floor. “That doesn’t make it any easier. I … you’re right. I know you’re right, and I’ve thought the same thing plenty of times before. I’m proud of who I am because of the people who made me who I am. But … it still feels like I’m losing them all over again.” Vlad sighed.

“You are,” he said, squeezing Daniel’s hand in his. “And believe me, I know what you’re going through, and I know how much it hurts. I had a family, too, and they’re lost to me forever. I still feel guilty sometimes that I let go so easily, that I didn’t fight to hold on the way you have. But I had to do what was best for me; I had to look to the future, because, whether we like it or not, the future is where we’re eventually going to end up.” Daniel made a face like he had eaten something sour.

“I don’t like that. It feels selfish.” Vlad chuckled.

“And who do you suppose is benefiting from your remembrance? Do you not hold on to the memories specifically because they make you happy?” Daniel opened his mouth but closed it again after a few seconds. “Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘living well is the best revenge’? I believe the reverse is also true - living well is the best way to honor those who loved you. It would bring them no joy to see you suffering in a vain attempt to hold on to what you’ve lost, never able to move on and live your life to the fullest.” Daniel smiled wryly.

“You don’t know that, though, do you? Maybe some of them would love this.” He shook his head and his smile faded again. “But I … I do understand. Remembering the past has made me happy, and I still don’t really think your way was the best way, or at least that it would have been best for me. But, now,” he said, looking significantly at his now-healed hand, and the blood on the blanket, “it just hurts. I held on as long as I could, and I’m glad I did. And I don’t feel ready to forget them, but I guess it isn’t up to me anymore.” Vlad had to remind himself again that this was a positive development, even though Daniel was clearly in pain. He squeezed his hand again, and this time Daniel squeezed back.

“Thank you,” Daniel said emphatically. “Thank you for … for coming, for talking to me. I don’t know if you said exactly what I needed to hear, but I think it was important that I heard it from you. We don’t have all that much in common, but, on some level, you do get what I’m dealing with. And you get me.” Daniel looked as though he might start crying again, but there was the hint of a smile on his lips. “Maybe I don’t have to lose everyone from my past.” As he spoke, Daniel took Vlad’s other hand, and Vlad’s breath caught in his throat. There was that thing with feathers again, only this time it didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

“I’ve missed you, too, Vlad. I’m sorry that I wasted so much time. But,” he said with a smirk, “to be fair, we do have eternity.”

[samyelbanette]

No Rest For The Wicked: A Thiefshipping Oneshot

So, all the way back in winter 2017, I signed up for @sitabethel‘s Thiefshipping Dirty Santa fanfiction-writing event. And then I promptly forgot about the whole thing, until today, when they reminded me about it. -_- I’m dumb as hell. So, it’s months late, but here’s the fic I wrote for the event!

The prompt I was given was “I’ll let you know all my flaws now, so you could love me better or leave me quicker.” 

The flash of white, amongst all the dark hair and skin of the people of Cairo, caught Marik's eye immediately. 

It was strange to be back in Egypt, after all the time he'd spent travelling the world with Rishid as the leader of the Ghouls. Running from the past, he admitted to himself. That was over now - after the tumultous events in Domino City, Japan, he'd resolved his grudge against the Pharoah, and accepted his role as a Tombkeeper. The Pharaoh - and his vessel, Mutou, should be coming to Egypt soon, Marik considered.  Ishizu foretells that the Ceremonial Duel will soon occur. 

After the Pharoah moved on to the afterlife, what would become of the Ishtars? Marik's clan had been waiting to assist the Pharoah in his journey for thousands of years. Once his destiny was fulfilled - then what? Where did that leave them?

It leaves us to lead normal lives, finally, Rishid had said, earlier today. He seemed to be looking forward to it. Marik wasn't so sure. It wasn't easy to spend years despising a man and plotting to kill him, committing acts of thievery and violence at the head of a criminal gang, and then turn around and be....normal. 

Marik was walking through a quaint open air market - the same one he'd stumbled through as a child, on his first day on the surface world. He still remembered how strange but beautiful it had felt, to feel the sun on his face and the sand under his feet, to see and hear so many people, when he was used to only seeing his family, and the darkness of the tomb. Now a grown man, he had seen many sights more splendid than this. But, his eyes still misted when he thought of how Ishizu had snuck him out, that first time. 

She was always a good sister, he thought to himself. And how did I repay her? By running away, and threatening to do her harm if she pursued me. I have much to atone for. 

He had done harm to young Yugi Mutou's friends, as well. He had kidnapped them, and seized control of their minds. They would surely accompany the Pharoah when he came to Egypt to fulfill his destiny. He could not blame them if they looked at him with eyes of hate. 

He was thinking of all he'd done while in Japan....the games he had played, the  people he had hurt, and the one man, that he had loved. And then suddenly he was there.

That long, white hair. The clearly Japanese features of his host, when everyone else in the crowd was Middle Eastern or African. That beaten up black coat that he always wore. 

"Bakura!" Marik cried, and tore off running, after the man. They'd been allies in Battle City, plotting together to defeat the Pharaoh. At first, Bakura had clearly only coveted Marik's Millennium Rod. But as time went on, their relationship had become....more than that. And on the blimp where the tournament finals were held, in the darkness of Marik's room, before the final battle had commenced, they had become lovers. 

A night so passionate.....Marik refused to believe that it had meant nothing to the Spirit of the Ring. But after that, everything had changed. Marik had discovered that the Pharaoh did not kill his father, as Shaadi had led him to believe. His father's blood was instead on his own hands, and he'd created a whole other personality to conceal that truth from himself. The shock of this revelation had sent Marik reeling. He had done his Tombkeeper duty, and shown the Pharaoh the markings on his back. But, after that, he had returned to Egypt with his siblings, deeply uncertain of his future. 

But, one thing he was certain of: he still yearned for Yami Bakura. His co-conspirator, his equal in dueling, the best lay of his life. What was he doing here?

"Bakura, slown down!" Marik cried, catching up to the pale haired man, and seizing him by the wrist. The Spirit turned to him, and smirked.

"Hello, Marik. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Why have you come here?" Marik demanded. 

"I think, deep down, you know," Bakura said, his red eyes staring into Marik's violet ones. 

For a second, Marik thought, to be with me, but he knew that was wishful thinking. "The Pharaoh is coming to Egypt soon," Marik realized. "You've come here to kill him." 

"You may have abandoned your plot against the Pharaoh," Bakura nodded, "but my goals remain the same as they were the day you met me." 

"To get revenge," Marik guessed. "In Battle City, that was what we both wanted. But, you never really explained to me, what it was that you sought vengeance for. What did the Pharaoh do to you?" 

Bakura wrenched his wrist from Marik's grip, and backed away from him. "I have been carrying this grudge for three thousand years," he confessed. "I won't let some teenage boy who suddenly wants  to be a goody two shoes stand in my way." 

"I didn't say that I was going to stop you," Marik muttered. Perhaps they should be discussing this elsewhere, away from prying eyes. 

"Does that mean," Bakura asked, his lip beginning to curl upwards, "that you're going to help me? I thought you'd switched sides." 

"I'm on my own side," Marik insisted. "I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do, because I'm not sure what you're plotting, or what your reasons are. I want to hear your explanation, before I do anything."

Bakura raised an eyebrow.

"Besides," Marik admitted, "if I said I was going to try and stop you, you would probably kill me." 

"I would hate to have to kill you," Bakura chuckled. "I am rather fond of you, after all." Marik blushed, in spite of himself. "Can we go somewhere more quiet, so we can talk this over?" 

"I think I know just the place," Bakura said, and began walking off into the distance, towards the desert. "Follow me." %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% They wandered past the outskirts of the city, towards the Pyramids, and the tombs where Marik had grown up. They traversed over sandy dunes in umcomfortable silence for what seemed like hours. 

"Where are we going?" Marik asked finally. "Are you sure you're not lost?"

"I was born here, just like you," Bakura reminded. "A very long time ago." 

"In the days when the Pharaoh, and the first owner of my Rod, walked the earth," Marik nodded. 

"He was a right bastard," Bakura huffed.

"Who?" Marik blinked. "Set, the Pharoah's high priest," Bakura explained.

"That was the original Rod wielder's name?" Marik blinked. 

"Didn't your clan teach you the Millennium Items' history?" Bakura questioned.

"I was always a poor student," Marik confessed. He'd rather be running through the torch lit hallways with Rishid, playing games. Father always scolded him for neglecting his studies. 

"What exactly did they tell you, about where the Items came from?" Bakura demanded, a strange look on his face. 

"The Pharaoh and his priests wielded the Millennium Items to protect the kingdom," Marik recalled from his lessons. 

"Protect it from whom?" Bakura questioned. 

"From evildoers," Marik shrugged. "Father always said he would tell me the whole story when I came of age. But he.....met his end when I was still a child." 

"The enemy the Millennium Item holders were fighting against," Bakura confessed, "was me." 

Marik stopped in his tracks, almost slamming into Bakura, who was walking in front of him. It tripped him out, truthfully, that the man who had ridden on the back of his motorcycle, kissed him on an airship, played cutting edge holographic card games with him, was a three thousand year old spirit, who had lived and died while the Pyramids were still being built. 

"I killed them," Bakura continued, his tone cold and unrepentant. "I was responsible for the death of Karim, who wielded the Millennium Scales, and Shada, who wielded the Millennium Key. And, of course, Mahad, the original owner of this Ring." He looked down at the glittering gold of the Millennium Item around his neck. 

"The Tombkeepers watched over the Scales and the Key all my life," Marik recalled. He didn't like to think about his childhood this much. "The Ring....I remember we had it in our possession, when I was young. One day, Father was spitting with rage. He said some treasure hunter - a foreigner - had stolen it." 

"My host's father," Bakura nodded. "Bakura Rokuro." 

Marik was not sure it had truly hit him, until this moment, that the face and body before his eyes, which he had kissed and touched not so long ago, did not really belong to the spirit he was speaking to. His real body must be buried, mummified, under these sands somewhere. 

"Bakura is not even your real name," Marik realized. "But the name of your host."  

"Yes, Bakura Ryou is simply my vessel," the Spirit of the Ring nodded. "When all this is over...he will wake up confused. He won't know where he is, or who you are. Try to ensure that he makes it back to Domino City in one piece." 

"Does that mean that 'when all this is over'....you won't be coming back?" Marik frowned. 

"Once my thirst for revenge has been slaked, at last," Bakura replied, "my spirit will be at peace, and then, I suppose I can rest."

"In the afterlife?" Marik guessed. 

"Where else would a ghost go?" Bakura chuckled. 

"Aren't you worried what will happen when your heart is weighed against the feather of Ma'at?" Marik worried. "Don't you fear judgement for your sins?"

"Do you fear judgement for yours?" Bakura asked. The question pierced Marik like a knife. 

"I can't judge you for your crimes," Marik sighed. "In Battle City....I wouldn't have cared if Katsuya had drowned, or that safe had fallen on Mazaki and crushed her. Or if Pandora's legs had been sliced off by that saw. Or if Hikari no Kamen and Yami no Kamen had fallen off that building to their deaths....."

"Thankfully," Bakura chuckled, "the Pharaoh helped all your foolish pawns escape with their lives." 

"What did the Pharaoh do to you?" Marik asked again. "I've realized...I don't anything about you at all. Bakura isn't even your real name. What did they call you, in your mortal life?" 

"Most knew me as the Thief King," the Spirit of the Ring revealed.

"That's not a name," Marik pointed out. "That's a title." 

"My true name doesn't matter," Bakura shrugged. "I will not exist in this modern world much longer anyway, after my plan is complete."

"What are you planning?" Marik demanded, his voice raising. "Why did you come back to me, just to leave me again?" 

"I want you to know the truth about who I was," Bakura explained. "There is no soul left in this world who remembers the Thief King. The Pharaoh is the only person I once knew who still walk this earth - and he has no memory of who I am, or why I despise him. When he regains his memories, his time on this plane will end. They say you only live as long as people remember you. And you, Marik Ishtar, are perhaps the only person on Earth who will remember me with fondness." 

"I'll miss you," Marik admitted. "I was hoping you and I could be together again." 

"I wish that could be," Bakura said, his voice full of passion as he looked into Marik's eyes. "I wish I could be your lover, like I was before." He leaned in close, and his lips touched Marik's. Desire coursed through the Tombkeeper's body, and soon his hands were in the Spirit's long hair, pulling him closer, desperate.

Reluctantly, Bakura pulled away. "But, this cannot be," he sighed. "I do not belong in the land of the living. My spirit lingers here for one purpose - my vengeance." 

Marik understood this. He had desired vengeance against the Pharaoh for many years, and that  misguided goal had driven all of his actions. Now, he felt adrift, without the mission that had motivated him for so long. 

"You wielded the power of the Millennium Rod, when you sought your vengeance," Bakura recalled. "But, do you know where the power of the Millennium Items comes from?" 

"Dark magic," Marik guessed.

"The darkest kind," Bakura agreed. "The kind that comes from the most evil and heinous of rituals." 

Marik blinked in the bright desert sun, confused. He and his clan had been watching over the Millennium Items for centuries, waiting for the Pharaoh's return. But, in all his studies, he was never taught how the Items had been created. 

"Human sacrifice," Bakura revealed, staring down at the Ring around his neck. "The blood and bones and souls of an entire village were melted down with the gold, imbuing them with cursed power." 

Marik gasped, horrified. He realized then where Bakura had brought him. They were standing on the ruins of an ancient city. Broken columns and shells of buildings, half-buried in the sand, were all that remained of the once-populous village. 

"This is all that's left of Kul Elna," Bakura explained, gesturing at the remnants. They looked like an archeological site. "The village that was massacred by the Pharaoh to create the Millennium Items. My village."

Marik's hand went to his mouth. He had endured horrors in his lifetime - hieroglyphics carved painfully into his unwilling back. An evil alter ego arising from the trauma of patricide. Horrible things - but none quite as horrible as witnessing a genocide. 

"I'm so sorry, Thief King," he said, putting an arm around his lover.

Bakura backed away from his touch. "I don't need your shoulder to cry on," he laughed. "I only need the Pharoah's suffering and death, as retribution for the suffering and death of my family." 

Marik's eyes widened, unsure of what to say. He, too, had once wished "suffering and death" upon the Pharaoh. But, now he regretted his actions. 

"I am not some victim, who deserves your sympathy," Bakura confessed. "I am a thief, and a stealer of souls. I killed the masters of the Ring, Key, and Scales, and I felt no remorse. I am responsible for the death of Isis, as well, who wielded the Millennium Necklace. Her soul seems to have returned in this century, as your sister. No wonder she despises me." 

"Why are you tellling me this?" Marik asked, feeling uneasy.

"I'm letting you know all my flaws now," Bakura explained, "so you could love me better, or leave me quicker."

"You want my love?" Marik said, confused. "I thought you only wanted your revenge." 

"I want to be with you, one last time, before my soul rests," Bakura said, looking desperately into Marik's eyes. "One more night in your beautiful arms, before I condemn myself to Hell. Is that too much to ask?" 

Marik reddened. He wanted this man, that much was true. He'd yearned for another taste of his touch since he left Domino City. And yet....

"But you're on the side of the angels now," Bakura chuckled. "Or at least, men who think they are angels. They assume that theirs is the just side. You and your family promised to help them, right? The Pharaoh, and his vessel, Yugi Mutou, and his friends." 

"Yes," Marik admitted. "When they come to Egypt, Ishizu and I are supposed to help them restore the Pharaoh's name and memories, and commence the Ceremonial Duel."

"When they come to Egypt," Bakura said plainly, "I am going to play a Shadow Game with the Pharaoh, and I am going to make him pay. I will be doing my best to prevent him from recovering his name - the task you say you plan to help him with. And I do not care whatsoever if the Pharaoh's friends - who now seem to consider you their ally  - are caught in the crossfire." 

"Why reveal your plan to me?" Marik asked. "Why not lie?"

"I want to know if you will leave me, knowing what kind of  man I am," Bakura confided. "I want to know if you will try and stop me. Will you warn young Mutou-san that I'm after his so-called yami? Will you try and protect the Pharaoh, who, as a Tombkeeper, you're sworn to serve?" 

"I don't hate the Pharaoh anymore," Marik said, uncertainly. "But, I do still love you, even knowing your true nature. I cannot stop my heart from loving you, or my body from wanting you, regardless of the flaws you confess to me. I will not 'leave you quicker'. I want to stay with you until the end." 

"You can stay with me all night long," Bakura whispered seductively. "One last, blissful night- but, come morning, the Pharaoh's plane will arrive in Cairo, and I will do what I have waited to do for three millennia."

"I won't stop you," Marik decided. "I will send the Pharoah to the place he is destined to go, fulfilling my role as a Tombkeeper. Once he gets there.....whether he wins your game, or you do....that is up to the Gods." 

"You wielded the power of the Gods once," Bakura recalled.

"Yes," Marik sighed. "But, I have long since surrendered my Winged Dragon of Ra to the Pharaoh."

"He will use it against me in our duel," Bakura predicted. "You have made my coming battle much harder to win." 

"My other self used Ra to defeat you in Battle City," Marik remembered. 

"Well, that's your other self," Bakura shrugged. "I carry a grudge against him, not you." "He's gone now," Marik said seriously. "For good this time." 

"I wanted you to regain control of your body," Bakura confessed. "Not simply because I wanted your Millennium Rod, but because I wanted what was best for you."

"You tried to help me win control of myself back," Marik nodded. "I will always be grateful to you for that, Thief King." 

"I have spent millennia haunting this Ring, waiting for my final faceoff with the Pharaoh," Bakura said thoughtfully. "And tomorrow, I will have it. But, I never expected that I would find someone who I cared for. It is, at last, my time to settle the score, and  leave this plane - but I wish I did not have to leave you, Marik.”

"I won't leave you until I have to," Marik promised. "I'll give you my love, and I'll give you tonight, and I won't regret it." 

"Even though, when morning light comes, I'll set off to kill your king?" 

"I wish you could stay," Marik sighed. "I wish you could be mine forever. But, perhaps, when I die, our souls will be reunited, on the other side of the Du'at."

"Then may Osiris have mercy on our wicked souls," Bakura laughed, and kissed Marik again. For now, his soul still resided in Bakura Ryou's body - and that body would know no sleep tonight.

[pharaohsparklefists]

EPISODE 90, ALL ABOARD THE TERROR TRAIN!! ~choo choo~

Everyone gathers around Rishid, who is still unconscious. It doesn’t make much sense to me that Jounouchi seems to be 100% fine while Rishid is approximately 0% fine, when they got hit by the same attack? You’d think it’d be more like 60%, 40%. If Rishid got hit by WORSE lightning than Jou did, then it’s even more unfair that Kaiba applied a “whoever doesn’t die” rule as a tiebreaker but whatever.

... This is a perfect mixture between “physical” and “psych” meaning I have no idea whether the doctor means the damage was physical or mental. I’m guessing physical, but this is SOME typo, lads.

OH HONEY. Maybe just leave now.

Jounouchi ascribes his and Rishid’s different reactions to their support networks or lack thereof.

No one was actually rooting for Rishid, so that’s why he doesn’t have the strength to get up. (Isis should REALLY have attended this match.) He tells the others how he dreamed they were there to help him up, which is a really sweet moment that he immediately sets on fire...

whyYYYyyyyyYYYYyyyYYYYyyYy

Like REALLY. What about Mai’s presence specifically in his dream is more embarrassing than either (a) anyone else’s presence in the dream or (b) anything else Jounouchi has ever done or said in public in his life.

I have never related more to Anzu in my whole life. #usefulscreenshot

So immediately, Mai identifies with Rishid: technically not alone, but with no one to rely on to cheer them on

The person who was just starting to place her fragile trust in her first ever group of friends withdraws completely to protect herself, which is VERY UNDERSTANDABLE.

She and Kaiba stand apart from the group, because they don’t really consider themselves part of it. Which is a damn shame because Kaiba REALLY needs a friend to critique his TERRIBLE one-liners.

that’s a low blow!

Meanwhile, Yami Malik starts as he means to go on: very politely

oh no wait I mean, murderously

Please note he has already divested himself of the lilac crop top, meaning he stopped off to change clothes on the way to his murder appointment, a fact which bizarrely means that Malik’s ostentatious androgynous dress-sense actually saves Rishid’s life. If Yami Malik hadn’t simply HAD to change clothes to better suit his dark and evil #aesthetic, he would have had time to murder him!

But the draw for the next pairing is being live-broadcast throughout the blimp, and yes, it’s Mai vs Yami Malik

... He’s holding up Mai’s ball (she’s number 4) and saying the name Rishid entered under, because they now know that Namu was a fake name adopted by Malik, who has now been replaced by his violent alter-ego, meaning that Isono doesn’t have the correct number, name OR person in this screencap.

Everyone heads back up to the roof of the blimp (sigh) where Mai is indignant

“What else would we do? We’re all trapped on this blimp and this is literally the only entertainment.”

Yami Malik opens with Revival Slime and the slime factory yoke that the Doll used against Yami. Yami tries to help, scared for Mai, but she shuts him down.

IS THIS TRUE?? Everyone’s been cheating like crazy!!

Anyway she turns out not to need Yami’s help, because she has Harpy’s Crazy Powerful Feather Duster in her deck, which makes short work of Yami Malik’s initial strategy

Triggering a wave of massive understatement from the watchers

“a lot of trouble” = he almost died

“creepy guy” = enthusiastic wannabe serial killer / cannibal

Wait. Cannibal??

APPARENTLY CANNIBAL

Like I know everything’s kinda More in the Japanese, and Yami Malik is pretty fucking creepy in the dub, so he was going to be More creepy in the Japanese, but I didn’t actually expect him to go full cannibal in duel one.

So, it’s time for a Shadow Game! Everyone puts their own spin on the Shadow Games they design: Pegasus’s were all show and drama but actually very straightforward penalties; Yami’s were obviously all tricksy and the penalties were supposed to teach the loser a lesson / give them a personalised punishment; Yami Bakura’s are deliberately terrifying and the penalty is just death. Yami Malik has his own spin, and his spin is psychological torture! 

He connects his and Mai’s memories to their Monsters...

Because he’s figured out that she’s insecure about her friendships and worried about being left alone. T___T

Not that he DOESN’T include death.

Jounouchi reacts with considerable surprise to this, the least shocking thing Yami Malik’s ever said. I mean, sure, Jou doesn’t know him very well yet, but he’s been introduced as the WORSE VERSION of the guy who keeps trying to kill people at the end of duels.

And so....

Mai’s Monster gets sliced in half and so does her memories of Anzu

#thatsfuckedupman

Because somehow, Yami Malik is better than Jounouchi / the Nerd Herd at recognising that Mai isn’t standoffish or a natural loner or too cool to care about friendship, she’s lonely, and now she’s watching her very memories of her only/first group of friends be stolen from her

T_____T

[reijiakabutt]

ok seeing the post you made Skittymon do I have to ask. Least favorite characters from Dm(Cause I've seen your Zexal tag .... Asking you to do both would take a month)

Goddamn it. I haven’t talked about the holy trinity in a while. Alright... *pulls out the vodka to recall war flashbacks*

Let’s do this.

Ryou Bakura

can you believe it took me 20 years to give a shit about this character and it was only after Kazuki Takahashi retconned his backstory for DSOD and gave him actuall emotion? Like, talk about a fucking self-insert, empty shell of a character. Almost every fan I’ve seen of his always screamed about how he was misunderstood and under-loved by the show and the fans and how much of a deep and complicated character he was. Thoough they casually forget to mention the part where they only like him cuz of one thing that happened in volume seven of the manga and he never reaches that same usefulness ever again. This character is inconsitent, NOT THAT IMPORTANT, really boring tbh... like, people talk about how selfless he is for sacrificing himself to save his friends but like... have they seen ygo? All the characters do that? Jou dies like four times for his friends, get on his level lol

Or how he’s “forgotten” in the show but lol, ther eare whole chapters and volumes he don’t even fucking TALK in the manga. Shit, KT didn’t give a shit about him either lol. And I am still 85% certain that fans only like him cuz he is a blank slate that can easily be used to tendership and be a fuck toy for Yami Bakura. I mean... this character bores me but the majority of the reason I hate him is how obnoxious his fucking fans are and how much they shoved him down my fucking throat on how “unloved” he was when lol i can’t go anywhere without seeing this fucker. Don’t make me think about him, there’s nothing to him. “He has an occult aesthetic” awesome. Cool. What does that have to do with him being important or even interesting?? Why should I focus on his interest when I have the spirit of a pharaoh as the main character and all these other ancient powers? He ain’t unique. And worse, he has no personality. NOOOO N EEE.

God, I’m getting a headache from remembering all the wank on him. Frankly, I forget about this character a lot but once in a while, I remember his fans and how absorbed they are about this character and how ridiculously annoying they are about him... which brings me to the next fucker.

Yami Bakura

HELLO MOST USELESS VILLAIN!

Oh my god... he’s so useless. Hes so forgettable. He honestly fails as a villain cuz NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT HIM. NONE OF THEM DO. THE ONLY CHARACTER HE IMPACTS IS HONDA. Yami forgets about him and defeats him quite easily for the first half of the show (which makes their third showdown all the more laughable tbh). Kaiba don’t even give a fuck about him. The fact that the main villain of Battle City (Yami Malik) defeats without losing a SINGLE LIFEPOINT is quite amazing.

Like, I can ALMOST respect a villain working in the shadows and ultimately being the final boss and having be unsuspecting and shit. However, he fails at this. Bakura fails at this SO FUCKING HARD because he never actually wins and is constantly beaten by everyone. He only wins once and that’s against the most minor of fucking minor characters. hE LEAVES NO IMPACT ON ANYONE.

Malik quickly forgets about him, moving on to Anzu to help get his sister to help him hide Rishid and Bakura is gone from his mind. Shit, Yami forgets about him every time he defeats him and is “surprised” each time he comes back. I’d say thats cool but he is easily defeated anyways. Pegasus and Kaiba and fucking Malik left impact on Yami and Yugi... Bakura leaves none. He’s just there, like a fucking cockroach. I GUESS he leaves an impact on Ryou but Ryou is such a bland character that it’s hard to tell what the fucking impact is.

If Bakura was removed from the story, it would’ve flowed better. Been smoother. He’s just this random parasite that sucks depth from the story as well as wastes time. Not to mention he has one of the most irritating fucking fanbases ever. Like, I’m glad they finally realize that he sucks and aren’t screaming about how he’s the greatest villain.

Also, for being the “main villain” lol... he sure is in a coma a lot. and even left out an entire fucking season (doma arc) which coulda been used to develop him. another thing, he has no development or depth. i can’t analyze this underdeveloped character who has nothing with anyone.

“but wait, he has a sad backstory”

Oh yes. The last fucker.

TKB

I hat ethis boy.

This isn’t even the fandom’s fault. That’s the ironic part.I hte him because of the story. I hate him because this entire time, the whole show was building up to the fight between the Nameless Pharaoh and a Priest who was entrapped in darkness.

IT WAS EVEN STATED IN CANON OK

http://reijiakabutt.tumblr.com/post/72859179115/i-feel-like-this-describes-my-feelings-to-season-5

AND THEN, THIS FUCKING CHARACTER OVERTKES THE WHOLE SEASON AND STORY. AND THE PLOT THAT WAS BUILT UP TAKES A BACKSEAT AS A BLURB.

Like... TKB should’ve just been a catalyst and then gone away to make way for the real build-up. For the real story between Atem, Seto, and Aknadin. To the palace affair. to this actual fight.

like, what’s laughable is how Bakura suddenly becomes this unbeatable force when he’s been this easily defeated fucker whose strategy never works. And like, it fails cuz he was never shown that way throughout the whole show so him suddenly becoming OP makes no goddamn sense and is a total asspull. And omg, his “tragic” backstory is told through flashback of the guy who is COMMITTING the atrocity within his own tragic backstory. AND I FEEL MORE SORRY FOR AKNADIN, WHO WAS THE TRUE BADDIE OF THE SEASON.

CUZ HE HAD DEVELOPMENT. AN ARC. BONDS. I GAVE A SHIT.

TKB I DIDN’T. I don’t know if it’s him who wants vengeance or if its him being controlled by Zorc or anything. this characters fails because I DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT HIM and he’s suddenly hailed as important and tragic when it all comes out of nowhere and does not impact him in the slightest.

Why the fuck is he called thief king?? i have no idea. shit, they were able to give me backstories for all these other characters and shit but not bakura... and like, i know KT was rushed with the egypt arc and it shows cuz this character who was never given focus was suddenly the main focus out of nowhere. that part where he dies and time is rewinded and he lives and other shit only to die again?

yea, ok. i’m fairly certain he was actually supposed to die there and that’s when aknadin was supposed to be the main act but sadly, KT was sick and just kept TKB and rushed through.

TKB inflates the story, clogs it up and took the spotlight from the actual story and conflict and the worst part was it’s so obvious he was never meant to be that fucking important.

it’s not eventhe fans fault - the fans almost make him sound like an interesting character but for me, he took away from the plot that the show was building up to and was just... incredibly poorly written.

[thecrazydragonlady]

The Immortal Pharaoh Chapter 30

So, no lie. This chapter makes me nervous. Originally, this was chapter 29 and I refer to it as the "Infamous 29" because, literally, two weeks ago, this chapter was COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. That's right. I had to scrap my original chapter and rewrite it completely. This chapter out of all of them scares me the most. I hope I fixed it properly.

I would also like to take this chance to thank @dhwheel again for helping me edit. I definitely would've had a lot of problems without the help!

There was nothing but darkness. Yugi’s body felt sore. He was also sure that he was bleeding from several cuts along his body. The monsters had been less than kind as they had dragged him through the darkness and back to… wherever he was. He couldn’t tell. It also didn’t help that he was bound to some kind of chair at both his wrists and ankles and the Millennium Puzzle was nowhere to be found. He gritted his teeth, struggling against the ropes.

A laugh came from the darkness. Yugi froze. A form followed the laugh; it only took a few steps for Bakura to fully appear. Yugi glared.

“Bakura,” he snapped. The boy in front of him had changed. He now wore a dark cloak and his hair stood in all directions. No longer was there a soft demeanor to his face; instead, it was sharp and jeering and, to put it simply, evil. He twirled the puzzle on a raised finger. “Give me back my puzzle!”

“As if,” he snarled. A smirk appeared on his lips, “You’ve made a mistake. You see Yugi, you’re going to give me the puzzle.”

“Not on your life!” Bakura wasn’t fazed. He sucked his teeth and raised his free hand, snapping. The darkness shivered before receding a bit, revealing four forms, all tied up just like him. Yugi’s eyes went wide. Grandpa, Anzu, Jounouchi, and Honda all struggled against their bounds; they tried to scream something to him but he couldn’t understand a thing they said since their mouths were covered. Yugi’s face paled. Bakura laughed again.

“It’ll say it again,” he hissed. “You’re going to give me the puzzle or things might not turn out so well for your loved ones.” He snapped again. The darkness moved again. Instead of backing away, it moved closer to the four of them. Various grotesque monster appeared, reaching out with claws and tongues and other odd appendages. Anzu’s eyes widened. Jounouchi shivered as one licked his exposed face. Grandpa tried to shrink away while Honda squirmed. The monsters kept moving. Yugi looked desperately between them and Bakura. He only sneered, “Make your choice Yugi.”

He bowed his head. “Alright,” he choked out, “Alright, you win.”

Bakura’s smirk widened, “Then say it Yugi.”

With his face pale, Yugi breathed, “I- I give you the Millennium Puzzle Bakura.” The Eye appeared on Bakura’s forehead and the puzzle glowed in the gloom.

That was it.

The puzzle was his.

Bakura laughed again, harder than before and in a moment of clarity, he looked back at Yugi. Without warning, he snapped his fingers again. Yugi watched in complete horror as the four captured humans morphed, changing into shadow monsters that roared and disappeared back into the darkness. Yugi struggled against his bounds again, “You tricked me!”

“Oh Yugi,” he teased. “That’s not all I’m going to do. Your life actually has some value to me still.” Bakura lashed out. His hand connected with Yugi’s face pretty hard. Yugi’s eyes rolled back and his head dropped forward onto his chest. Bakura snickered. He turned back to the shadows before disappearing from sight.

*****

Yami squeezed his hands tightly at his knees. He couldn’t look any of them in the face. Jounouchi slammed his fist on the door frame while Honda mirrored Yami’s expression at the kitchen counter. Grandpa looked tired and older than he ever had before while the Ishtars had expressions varying in degree of anger, frustration, and guilt. Malik, who had been released the day prior, clenched his fists. Anzu wrapped a blanket around Grandpa’s shoulders. She smiled at him, trying to herself together.

“That jerk,” Jounouchi growled, “Wait until I get my hands on him!”

“Like it’s going to be that easy,” Honda snapped.

Jounouchi spun, “I know that! We can’t just leave Yugi in his hands thought!” The two of them glared each other down until Anzu stood.

“Knock it off you two,” she ordered. Honda and Jounouchi humphed but turned away from each other. A gentle hand appeared on Yami’s shoulder. He looked up. Isis smiled down at him sadly.

“Bakura is acting,” she addressed the room. “Which means we have no choice but to move too.” She motioned to Yami. “The Guardian currently poses five out of the seven Millennium Items.”

“Which means that Bakura won’t be able to summon Zorc,” Rishid added. Isis nodded.

“Correct. We still have the upper hand.”

“But how long will we have it,” Malik asked softly. Nobody responded.

Someone cleared their throat. All eyes turned to the door and Yami jumped to his feet. Grandpa looked up surprised as well. Arthur and Rebecca Hopkins stood in the doorway with soft smiles on their faces.

“Doctor Hopkins, Rebecca,” Yami greeted.

“Hello again Guardian,” Hopkins returned, “My, your Japanese has improved significantly. How have you been adjusting?”

Rebecca shot her grandfather a look. She huffed, “We don’t have time Grandpa.”

“There’s always time for a bit of pleasantry- especially in the dark times,” he replied. Rebecca shook her head but he turned, approaching Grandpa. “I’m sure Yugi is alright Sugoroku. After all, he is a Muto.” Grandpa smiled up at him.

Rebecca cleared her throat, “Isis told us what happened and we came straight here from the airport.”

Malik eyed his sister, “I thought they were staying Egypt to study Yami’s tomb?”

“We were,” Hopkins cut in, “but we managed to translate the final part of the tomb’s message.” Rebecca placed her bag on the ground. She dug through it for a second before pulling out a laptop. A few more seconds later, she pulled up some pictures of the tomb’s hieroglyphics. Hopkins moved closer to her. “It seems that there are two ways to stop the return of the darkness: the first is to keep the items sealed away in the tomb.”

“Obviously that one’s not an option anymore,” Honda pointed out. Rebecca leaned her head back to glare at him.

“And who,” she snapped, “are you?” Honda returned the expression. Before he could respond, Yami raised a hand.

“We don’t have time,” he warned. Honda snapped his mouth shut. Yami turned back to Hopkins, “What’s the other way.”

Hopkins cleared his throat, “Yes, well, the only other option is for the Guardian to summon the gods and awaken their true power by using his name.” He stared at Yami. “Have you remember your true name?” Yami licked his lips.

“No, I haven’t,” he answered.

“Damn,” Jounouchi swore. He walked closer to the professor, “This is good and all but we need to save Yugi now.”

Rebecca closed her laptop, “You don’t think we know that?” She motioned to her grandfather. “We’re trying to help! Yugi isn’t the only one in danger! The whole world is. We can’t just go rushing in to anything without some information.” She sighed. “This is the best we could do.”

“It is enough,” Yami assured her. A cellphone suddenly rang and all eyes turned to Isis who pulled it from the pocket of her jacket.

“Kaiba,” she greeted. Pause. “Excellent! Can we expect to see you there?” Pause. “Alright. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up. Her face was brighter than it had been. “Kaiba found Bakura and Yugi. It looks like they’re in downtown Domino.”

Everyone straightened. Honda pumped his fist, “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Wait a moment,” Isis ordered. She stepped forward and all eyes stayed on her. “This is going to be a dangerous battle. Your very lives will be at risk.”

“And that’s supposed to stop us,” Jounouchi asked. Isis slowly closed her eyes.

“No, it is meant to give you a way out.” The three of them shared a look.

“No chance,” Honda said.

“Yugi’s in danger,” Anzu added. “We’re not leaving any of our friends in danger. We’ll fight too.”

“None of you have participated in a shadow game before,” Rishid pointed out.

“So we’ll figure it out,” Jounouchi chirped. He moved past Yami with a smirk on his face. “So what are we waiting around for? Let’s get going’.” Yami hesitated for a moment before he nodded.

“Very well,” Isis agreed. “Before that, we will need to prepare.” Rebecca raised her hand and all eyes turned to her.

“For what it counts,” she said, “I think I have a plan to get Yugi back.”

*****

“I just really feel that we need some tumbleweeds and a flute of some kind playing warbly music,” Jounouchi stated. Honda rolled his eyes, Anzu rolled her eyes, and both had to stop themselves from slapping him in the back of the head. It was a good thing none of the others were in earshot or they definitely would’ve.

“Quit trying to make jokes dude,” Honda snapped. “Not really the time.”

Jounouchi scratched his cheek, “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Anzu scanned the crowd. “That would work best,” she told him, “if, you know, we weren’t trying stop the apocalypse or something like that.” They were standing in the middle of downtown Domino, right at the city’s center where the cameras had shown Bakura walking. The air was electric. A knife could easily have slice and diced its way through the tension. It wasn’t just their group that felt it either; Jounouchi noticed a couple of people looking around, fiddling with their phones, nervously moving away from the area and, hopefully, out of harms range. The sky was darkening above. Black clouds swirled overhead even though no rain fell.

“I get that but we could all use a laugh right about now.” Jounouchi blinked. Someone was laughing. It echoed throughout the area. “I know what I said was funny but it wasn’t that funny.” Honda took a step back.

“I don’t think he’s laughing at your joke,” he pointed. His head snapped up. Standing above them, his arms crossed as he looked down at them, was Bakura, the wind violently whipping around him. His hair looked even wilder than before. His jacket rose a bit, giving him a larger form. They all braced themselves.

“How nice of all of you to show up,” he snarled, “for Lord Zorc’s grand revival!” Yami stepped forward.

“Not if we have anything to say about it,” he challenged. “Give Yugi back!” Bakura was unfazed. He lifted his foot, seemingly stepping into empty air but a portal of darkness opened below him and he sank into, reappearing on the ground in front of him. They blanched. Yami’s face paled. Yugi was in his grip, unconscious and bleeding from several injuries. “Bakura,” Yami growled. The man’s expression didn’t change; instead, it grew wider as he lifted Yugi’s head, placing a knife to his throat.

“I’m sure you can see,” Bakura drawled, “where this is going. Surrender the items or I will end his life.” Bakura’s eyes shot around to the group that seemed to keep growing. Yami’s knuckles tightened on the case he carried. No one said anything.

 What do I do? What can I do?

“Don’t…,” someone weakly told him. Yami’s eyes opened wide. Yugi’s eyes opened slowly until they were half lidded and Bakura pressed the tip of the knife harder into his skin. Yugi hissed. A tiny trickle of blood appeared and traveled down his neck, soaking into the collar of his shirt. Yugi gritted his teeth for a second before saying stronger, “Don’t do it Yami! I’ll be alright!”

“Yugi,” Yami whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before he pulled his arm back, throwing the case between them. All hearts squeezed.

Bakura straightened. Dragging Yugi forward, he kept his eyes on all of them. It was only when he stood over the case did he grab Yugi by the scruff of the neck and flung him away. He landed hard.

“Yugi,” several voices cried at once. Yami ran across the plaza, dropping to his knees to cradle him in his arms, turning him over to check him carefully. He brushed his cheek and then his bangs. There were various cuts all over him but he otherwise looked alright. Yugi’s eyes fluttered. They slowly opened all the way. Yami smiled down at him, squeezing his shoulders.

“Yugi,” he breathed, “Are you alright?”

Yugi returned the smile, “I think so.” Yami nodded.

“Can you stand?”

“Maybe…,” he mumbled. With Yami’s help, the two of them stood. Yami wrapped a hand around his waist and didn’t let him go.

Meanwhile, Bakura’s eyes starred hungrily at the case. He opened it. It didn’t take long for him to process the scene in front of him. Darkness swirled in an angry storm above them, the wind picking up again. A growl tore through his throat as he flung the empty case to the side. “Do you really think this will stop me,” he shouted. “Zorc will still revive!”

“Not if we have anything to say about it,” Jounouchi snapped. He stood behind Yami and Yugi but stepped forward as he spoke. Honda, Anzu, Isis, Rishid, and even Kaiba, who had met the group earlier, stepped up with him.

Bakura laughed, “Do you think you lot will be enough?”

“Stop stalling and call out your monster,” Kaiba ordered. Bakura snickered. He raised his hand to the side. The darkness concentrated behind him, spiraling and forming into a giant monster. It’s torso was bulging. If Diabound had been intimidating before, he was more so now. The group stepped back.

“What the…?”

“That creature….?”

“That can’t be Diabound,” Yugi stuttered.

“Surprised,” Bakura asked. “Diabound has been busy. Growing monster are ravenous.” Yami took a step forward. Yugi let him go, assuring him with a smile that he was alright, as they faced the monster and his master down. Yami silently called for the magic. The Millennium Eye symbol appeared on his forehead but he knew that it wasn’t enough. He was too drained, too tired.

 Please. Give me the strength.

Several points of light suddenly appeared around him. The Millennium Items that had been left at the game shop with those who couldn’t fight, answered his silent call. Yami closed his eyes. It was risky but he didn’t have a choice.

“We will not,” he stated in his native tongue, “Allow the darkness to return.” He held up a hand.

The power flowed through him. Never had he felt so close to the gods and yet… it still wasn’t enough. He could feel Slifer, Obelisk, and Ra rumbling in his mind but there wasn’t enough there to summon them. Instead, he chose the easier route. Yami made a fist with his outstretched hand, “Come forth!”

Six familiar monsters appeared in a blinding light. Gandora rumbled deep in its throat, its tail switching back and forth over the ground. Yugi beamed. The Blue Eyes roared and Kaiba tried not to look proud. Two-Headed Jackal pounded his sword against his shield and Spiria bowed briefly to Isis. Then, there were two new monsters: the first was a red and black dragon that was smaller than both Gandora and Blue Eyes, but just as intimidating to look at.

Jounouchi stepped forward, “Is this…my partner?” It turned its head enough to eye him. A low, whiny growl came from its throat and he blinked. “Red Eyes… Black Dragon?” It nodded. Jounouchi smirked and pumped his fist, “Awesome! I like it!” They turned back to the battle.

The second l monster was a soldier wearing a face mask. He had several pieces of weaponry on his body and belt of bullets around his torso, coming off of his right shoulder. He turned, bowing to Honda a bit who only scratched his head and chuckled in surprise.

Anzu looked around confused. It didn’t appear as if she had gotten a monster to battle with until the Dark Magician Girl floated down to her.

“Hi there! It’s nice to meet you!” Anzu blinked.

“Uh… likewise,” she agreed. She nodded and then floated back a little.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’m partnering with you,” the magician apologized, “It’s just… my master and I want to help him out but having to battle with two monsters attached to your soul can be troublesome.” Anzu smiled.

“I understand. I think.” She turned back to face Bakura. “Let’s just make sure we do a good job at ending this.”

“Right,” the other confirmed, raising her wand.

“You’re out matched Bakura,” Yugi challenged.

“I wouldn’t be too sure.” Bakura pointed towards them.  “Go Diabound!” All the monsters surged forward. Diabound easily meet the three dragons with his tail while the others flew around them. The Dark Magician Girl lead the way, swinging her wand to tussle with one of his hands. She grunted against the blow. The Cyber Soldier started his attack from the ground, shooting towards his torso. The Dark Magician flew up above the scene, raising his staff for an attack. Spiria and Two-Headed Jackal managed to loop on to his second arm. Diabound screamed. The Dark Magician released his attack, the orb that appeared exploding on his face.

The group let out a cheer.

Their excitement didn’t last long. The smoke cleared from his face but he appeared to be completely uninjured. He opened his hands, grabbing the Dark Magician Girl and Spiria. They struggled. Isis and Anzu gasped, their arms locked to their side as they struggled to breathe. The tail knocked back the three dragons which in turn sent their masters flying as well. Yami turned in surprise.

“Yugi! Jounouchi!” He gritted his teeth, growling a bit. They groaned. Yugi pushed himself up, shaking his head, sending some dust and debris flying off his head. Jounouchi sat up and held his head. Kaiba, of course, landed without an issues and was already ordering the Blue Eyes back into battle. Yami eyed his flight; the dragon flew up to the snakehead and grabbed it by the throat.

“Kaiba,” he shouted. Kaiba eyed him. Yami nodded to him and Kaiba narrowed his eyes but pointed, ordering his dragon to fly to the right. The Dark Magician noticed what they were doing. He came down, aiding in the tug. They managed to get the monster spinning. He opened his hands to release the two he had caught, slamming his now free hands into the buildings around them. Rubble fell. The Dark Magician Girl and Spiria flew out of reach and their masters hunched over, trying to regain their breaths. The Dark Magician flew up to the two of them.

“Are you alright,” he asked. The Dark Magician girl shook her head from her doubled-over position before straightening. “Good, we need to tie that snake down. It’s causing a lot of problems.”

“Got it,” she chirped. The two of them went down.

Yugi tugged at Yami’s arm, “What’s Bakura doing?” He dropped his eyes from the battle above. Bakura stood on the other side of the plaza, hands extended. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be speaking rapidly. Yami’s face fell. He was definitely incanting but what, he wasn’t sure exactly what. The Millennium Items quivered around him. They faltered from their hovering position around him, moving ever so slightly towards the thief.

“He’s summoning Zorc,” Yami declared. The group blanched.

“I thought he needed all the items in his possession for that,” Honda grunted as he doubled over from a hit.

“It might just be enough that they’re all in the same area,” Isis answered.

Yami reached out quickly for the nearest item. He wasn’t quick enough. They flew off towards Bakura who didn’t let up on his incantation. Yami growled.

He stumbled forward after them.

Yugi raised a hand to stop him, “Yami! Wait!”

He jumped over some of the fallen debris, scrambling, trying to reach it. Jumping, his fingers brushed the key.

As he came down, Yami was surprised to see Diabound suddenly there.

His eyes went wide. Everyone shouted but Yugi was the loudest as the monster brought his massive fist around in a direct shot at him.

The Dark Magician flew quickly, putting his body between the two. Diabound’s fist connected to his chest. Both monster and master cried out as they went flying and the Dark Magician weakly wrapped Yami in his arms before they connected to the building behind them, leaving a crater in the wall. They fell.  The Dark Magician disappeared in a slow trickle of light, just feet from the ground. Yami landed hard against the concrete.

He didn’t move.

Next

[themillenniumscribe]

Yu-Gi-Oh: Brilliancy (31)

Her name is Clarisa Swansea. She was born in Hong Kong to a wealthy yet loving family, a father, mother, and two older sisters. A competitive beast in women’s lacrosse with a pretty face to match, there was no mistaking that she was striving for greatness far beyond any expectations. But, when one accident took her family along with her mobility, her life took an intriguing turn into the world of chess.

Clarisa was still steaming when she checked in with her medical staff. She gave them short instructions on where to send the patients, ordering that only two keys be used to access the space. One she gave to the head doctor and the other she kept on her person. When one of the KaibaCorp physicians attempted to complain, she shot him a glare so fierce that his heart stopped. Her surgeon gave him a few words of advice, requesting that he not provoke Clarisa further into her beastly temper. The only one who seemed safe from it all was Shizuka, the auburn girl staying by Mai’s side the entire time.

“If you need to get back into the room, just let me or my doctor know.” Clarisa told her as gently as possible, eyeing the staff as they made their way out of the quarters. “I will be in Kaiba’s room.”

“I will,” Shizuka whispered gratefully. “Thank you for letting me stay by Mai’s side.”

“I don’t think I would have stood a chance of convincing you to stay away. You’re more of a fighter than you let on.” Her observation made the younger girl blush. There was some truth behind the secret fighter inside Shizuka and her crooked smile verified it.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Clarisa’s cheerful demeanor turned dark. “If anyone comes to the door, verify who it is before letting them in.”

“Why? Is someone trying to hurt Mai?”

“Not Mai. Him,” Clarisa indicated to Rishid with a jerk of her head. “I caught his master trying to stab him with that rod of his.”

“Wha_?!” Shizuka sputtered, the color draining from her face. “Shouldn’t Mr. Kaiba know?!”

“He’s preoccupied with running the tournament. I’m taking over the medical staff and everything therein.”

“But, if someone is after Rishid…”

“Kaiba doesn’t give a damn what happens to anyone in this tournament. He has made that perfectly clear by letting people duel while injured, fall into comas for unknown reasons, and allowing a raging psychopath threaten everyone on board. Besides,” Clarisa stated surely. “Mr. McKnifey won’t get a second chance. I already had a go at him and I won’t be so nice the second time around.”

Shizuka was struggling to find more words when realization hit. With a silent nod, Clarisa confirmed to the girl where the injury to her face came from.

“Keep an eye on them, Shizuka.” She said softly. “Especially Mai. Don’t let anyone but my staff and your friends in.”

“You can count on me!” Clarisa admired Shizuka’s courage. The little mouse had some bite to her.

She had to fake her kindness a little longer when Yugi and his friends showed up to visit. They filed in, surrounding Mai’s bedside just as the door slid shut. Once it latched, the prior anger that Clarisa was feeling returned to her face. Body tensing, she began to move away from the medical wing.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you are not in a good mood?” Charles appeared beside her. He was rather chipper, much to Clarisa’s annoyance. Her shoulders tightened as she rolled her way back to Kaiba’s empty room.

“It’s not every day I get to feel objectified by a man who thinks I’m an ‘investment’ rather than a person.” She spat, shoving the spare key into her bra. It took a few minutes for her to adjust herself but the card tucked itself nicely to the left side.

“To be fair, I think anyone is an investment in his eyes,” Charles was trying very hard to be soothing. “He seems to struggle in the social department.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Clarisa looked up, her eyes still burning. Kaiba had pricked her to the core and she was itching to take it out on someone. She was somewhat tempted to go after Charles but his gentle face made it difficult for her to stay mad.

“He should write a book. ‘How to Offend People in_’” He counted silently on his fingers. “…’Eight Syllables or Less.’”

“Really?” Her eyebrows rose skeptically. “That’s the reference you decided to go with?”

“…It’s not…what it seems….” Charles gasped with overly dramatic flair. Though Clarisa wanted to continue to stew, her anger phased out in a badly suppressed grin. Shaking her head, she rolled herself forward, Charles close behind.

The call was made for lights out shortly after they made it into the room. Clarisa settled herself comfortably in her chair, getting in a little bit of light reading while Charles guarded outside. Though her initial lounging activity brought her some peace, something felt off and a peculiar restlessness entered her mind after an hour of comfort. She waited a few moments, hoping the feeling would subside but it only made her nerves sharpen. Sighing, Clarisa put down her spare book, tentatively making her way to the door.

“Charles?” She called, leaning her head to the side for a better listen. A voice didn’t answer but there was a metallic tap outside.

Clarisa’s skin began to crawl. Everything about the situation screamed for Clarisa to keep the room closed. She even heard her own words echo in her head.

‘If anyone comes to the door, verify who it is before letting them in.’

There was no peep hole and, if there was, it would be out of her reach. Hands trembling, she went against her better judgement and opened the door.

As expected, the halls were dark save for the emergency lights. Their glow took a minute to get used to but Clarisa soon noticed something off. Charles was nowhere to be found.

“Charles?” She called again, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.  She leaned forward, her head popping out of the doorway.

“R-Risa!” Whipping her head to her left, she could see the familiar glow around Charles’ body. He was pressed up against the wall, struggling to get free from his supernatural binding. It took Clarisa a moment to notice but a pooling of red was starting to form at his feet.

“CLOSE THE DOOR!” He bellowed.

It was too late. The moment Clarisa moved to do as she was bid, she was struck out of her chair and onto the floor. Her cheek banged against the metal surface, singing the familiar praises of a still fresh bruise. She grunted, attempting to roll over when a foot pressed against her jugular. Clarisa could see the familiar evil burning in Malik’s dark eyes as he leaned forward to greet her.

“Give me the key.” Malik’s sinister voice purred, lips curling.

“F-Fuck…you…” Though she was choking, she managed to spit out the words. It also came with a complimentary spit to his face. His smile dimmed but didn’t dissipate his heel digging further into her neck. Clarisa gagged, clawing desperately at his foot when some of her self-defense training kicked in.

Twisting sharply, Clarisa took Malik’s leg with her when she spun, throwing the man off balance. He staggered and fell on top of Clarisa. The sheer weight of him knocked the wind out of her but, with the adrenaline pumping in her ears, Clarisa wasted little time trying to catch any semblance of breath.

She used her arms to shove him off of her, tossing him a surprising distance when she heard the chiming of metal just behind her. Eyes refocusing, she noticed that Malik had accidentally released the Millennium Rod from his grip. Despite the growing numbness in her legs, Clarisa managed to get to her feet, stumbling over to the item and reach the staff.

Her fingers gently grazed the tip of the sheath when a rush of sensation hit her like a truck.

Something was being pulled out of her. It was painful, more painful than any shrapnel in the car accident. A woman crossed her vision, pale as silver and the brightest blue eyes. Behind her, a white dragon appeared, screeching out in a mixture of pride and pain. Tears were falling down the woman’s face and a faint whisper of breath escaped her peach colored lips. A yellow emperor laughed.

When the whisper faded, the vision faded too, leaving Clarisa on her back in the hallway. Even more frightening, Malik was on top of her, golden blade twinkling in the little bit of light that remained in the hallway.

“Die,” He commanded in the same faint tone, thrusting the blade toward her chest.

It never struck.

The blade barely nicked one of her buttons when Malik was picked up and thrown down the hallway. She heard muffled screams and her blood pounding in her temples when she finally gained the courage to sit up.

Kaiba was in the hallway, blocking Clarisa’s view of Malik’s crumpled body. He shouted some kind of command to the Ghoul but she couldn’t make out the details. She noticed the horde of staff whisking in to take care of the mess. Isono and Fubeta escorted Malik to his room and a doctor went to attend to Charles. Another went Clarisa’s way but she waved them off, indicating at the blood below Charles’ feet.

As for the CEO, Clarisa remembered a very stern glare being shot her way. The high-pitched tone of Mokuba’s voice was to her right and she registered his body being there. But, she wasn’t able to comprehend the words he said. It sounded as though they were talking through Jell-O.

“Make sure he stays in his room.” Kaiba barked. “As for Miss Swansea, she will be in my personal care.”

“Can I opt out of that?” Clarisa slurred, lifting her hand.

“Shut up!” The tone of Kaiba’s voice shook the blimp. Most of the remaining staff jumped in their skin and remained fearful of the CEO. Clarisa was not so frightened. The fogginess around her mind was so intense that all he got was a slow blink. Their eyes connected briefly and Clarisa could see the irritation swirling in his eyes.

“Mokuba, take her to the computer room.” He ordered, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “I will be there shortly.”

The younger Kaiba did as he was bid, coaxing Clarisa back into her chair and escorting her to the computer room. She was tempted to object but the fuzziness in her brain kept her from being too terribly quick. Instead, she settled for silence until Mokuba’s hazel eyes locked ferociously onto her person.

“What was that all about!?” He cried, the door lock hissing when he slammed his hand against the button. Clarisa pursed her lips with a shrug.

“I’m not exactly sure what you mean.” She replied with a slight grin. “Try asking me again with more feeling.”

“You could have been seriously hurt!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Her brow furrowed lightly. “And you don’t know that.”

“Don’t know what?” The younger Kaiba retorted.

“That I would have been seriously hurt. If anything, I gave him a run for his money,” Her response didn’t settle Mokuba’s nerves. If anything, it only enflamed him.

“You were on the ground and had a knife heading for your chest!” He cried, becoming pricklier when Clarisa waved him lazily with her hand. “Malik is dangerous! There is no way you could have taken him on by yourself!”

“Why? Because I’m a cripple?” Clarisa let the words escape her lips without a thought on the consequences. Mokuba sputtered away, trying desperately to find the right answer to her confrontation. She smirked in her seat, pleased that she caught him in this blunder. But, it was very short lived.

“How about because you are an idiot?” The confidence was stripped from her face when the CEO’s penetrating voice answered back. He wasn’t as angry as before but he certainly wasn’t calmed from their brief time apart.

“Seto, I_”

“Get out,” Kaiba ordered Mokuba, crossing his arms over his chest as a dagger like glower locked onto the blonde woman. Clarisa watched the dark haired boy duck his head as he slipped out into the hallway. That just left her and the older, socially inept cactus.

“Miss Swansea,” His voice was a hiss. “We need to talk.”  

[pharaohsparklefists]

Episode 89! Big drama, quick action, shit not sorted out!

Such quick action, actually, I’m going to do something I haven’t done in a long time, and recap a whole episode at once. BUCKLE UP!

Malik is being a total unreasonable emotionally-abusive foolish SHITHEAD right now. I am so disappointed in him. He stops Rishid from WINNING to tell him he has to take the massive risk of playing the Fake Ra card because Malik just sort of wants him to and, to make him do it, he dangles the one thing Rishid will carve his own face off for...

This is a LOW BLOW you lying little shit, go sit in the corner and sort your shit out.

Shortly thereafter:

“I am so aroused right now.”

This ridiculous Monster swap, trading Mr Scorpion for I Can’t Believe It’s Not Actually The Avatar Of A God, turns out to be even more pointless than you might expect:

ICBINTAOAG has the same ATK as Mr Scorpion did! It inherits the ATK of the Monsters sacrified to summon it (Mr Scorpion counted as three Monsters bc it had eaten three Monsters. Yes, I think that’s bullshit too, but on the scale of the bullshittitude perpetrated this episode, it barely registers.)

Malik is delighted.

I think it proves you’re a manipulative little dillweed, but hey, it’s nice to know Malik’s ravings support my theory that Rishid was some kind of nephew or something.

Meanwhile, in her room, Isis divines what is about to happen and mentally warns Rishid that he’s about to mistake. “Mentally” here meaning “in her own head”, not “telepathically”, sadly.

Well maybe show the hell up next time instead of sitting in your room by yourself watching through your haunted jewellery. Then you could have warned him for real and maybe he would have listened! Like seriously, Isis, sort your shit out.

But she isn’t there and Rishid calls his attack and Malik’s Duel Disk FREAKS THE FUCK OUT

Yes, incredibly, just like EVERY OTHER TIME THEY USED A FAKE RA CARD, they have angered the actual real God known as Ra who makes their displeasure known through the age-old tried-and-true Zeus-favoured method of Precision Lightning Headshots.

Boom.

... Awkward.

Seems a bit harsh to ALSO lightning Jounouchi, but in Ra’s defense, Jounouchi didn’t get hit until he approached Rishid.

Everyone freezes in shock, except Honda, who runs forward to climb onto the dueling platform (but does immediately stop when Isono asks him to, even though, for all he knows, his friend is dead or dying...)

(Yami’s ADORABLE shocked face distracted me for a while, but try to tear your eyes away to appreciate Otogi’s horror-blah too!)

Tournament Organiser, Tournament Sponsor Company CEO, and yet somehow also Competitor, Seto Kaiba, tells everyone not to worry!

... this STRONGLY implies that there IS a fatal level though. It is a CARD GAME DEVICE, Seto. Sort your SHIT out.

Isono wants to end the duel and disqualify both competitors for “being unconscious during the duel”, which does seem a little harsh but on the other hand has the massive benefit of freeing the unconscious duelists up for some highly necessary medical attention, but Kaiba Walking-Health-And-Safety-Disaster Seto has a better idea!

Literally, let’s stand here for five more minutes and see if either of them get better or die. These two people just got HIT BY FUCKIN LIGHTNING, this is NOT a suitable tie-breaker. It’s a goddamn CARD GAME, the secondary win-lose criteria should NEVER BE “well let’s see if the electrocution sends either of them into cardiac arrest”. SORT YOUR SHIT OUT, SETO.

... HOW does he EVER get insurance to cover ANYTHING??

The Nerd Herd start yelling at Jounouchi to wake up.

Except Yami who stares in consternation elsewhere? Apparently at Rishid? Maybe he’s in denial about Jounouchi potentially being seriously hurt?

Isis has another worry than merely losing a brother to godly-lightning-attack...

And Rishid is the one who keeps the other!Malik at bay, so if he’s killed in a tragic card-game accident...

This is where things kind of fall apart for me, suspense-wise. Like I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be rooting for Jounouchi, and I certainly don’t want him to die or anything, but Rishid’s reasons for needing to get up and carry on are SO much better??? This isn’t Duelist Kingdom, where Jounouchi needed the prize money to save his sister’s eyesight. He’s literally in this tournament because he likes this dumb card game and it seemed like fun. He wants to do well and duel Yugi/Yami, but #spoileralert he ends up doing that after the tournament is over and that’s fine, so it’s totally not necessary for him to win here. He wants to get back up and continue the duel ... so that he can duel his friend at some point. 

Rishid wants to get back up and continue the duel because he knows he’s the only one standing between Malik and the violent alternate-personality waiting to break free and use Malik’s body, and he’s haunted by memories of Malik’s descent into darkness after being tortured by his own father as a child, which Rishid couldn’t save him from.

Jounouchi’s electrocution-vision?

He literally dreams he dozed off in class, then falls over his desk and has a little chat with his friends.

He does have a sweet moment where he acknowledges that he no longer wants to be that rash, aggressive guy who gets into fist fights all the time, because...

He feels, in the dream, heavy and tired and asks for his friends to help him up...

<3! 

So friendship wins out over family and duty and Jounouchi stands up while Rishid falls. This fits with the “friendship heck yeah” theme of the series, but ... idk. They explicitly framed this as “who is more determined to win this duel” and it reeeeeeally seems like it would be Mr If I Don’t Win My Precious Younger Brother Will Lose His Mind Maybe Forever and not Mr It’d Be Real Nice To Duel Yugi I Guess.

Anyway, it happens and Jounouchi’s up, but kinda dazed and not sure where he is.

HE GOT HIT BY FUCKING LIGHTNING LIKE FOUR MINUTES AGO, LADY, WHAT THE FRESH HELL, MAYBE SORT YOUR SHIT OUT

And Kaiba’s characteriscally-but-forgetfully derisive

oh my sweet precious fleeting grip on sanity it was yoUR GODDAMN IDIOT IDEA. YOU. YOUUUUUUUU. SHIT. SORT. NOW. PLEASE.

Speaking of fleeting grips on sanity, Jounouchi and Yami go to help Rishid but he’s like “lol don’t mind me, it’s Malik you gotta watch out for cause he’s about to flip the fuck out Disassociative Identity Disorder style”

And they’re like, legit, “Gasp! Namu is Malik?? The only other person on the blimp???” #sortyourshitout

And Malik FINALLY - cause you know he rehearses this in the mirror right? right. - gets to be all like “YES, IT IS I, MALIK! AHAHA”

But then tragically, like 67 seconds later, he becomes the very Malik they have not been fighting this whole time but instead becomes the Malik they will henceforth be fighting...

Who is very dismissive of The Artist Formerly Known As This Very Malik.

~Eight out of ten occult spirits prefer the darkness to other leading brands of eyeliner~

[themillenniumscribe]

Yu-Gi-Oh: Brilliancy (29)

Her name is Clarisa Swansea. She was born in Hong Kong to a wealthy yet loving family, a father, mother, and two older sisters. A competitive beast in women’s lacrosse with a pretty face to match, there was no mistaking that she was striving for greatness far beyond any expectations. But, when one accident took her family along with her mobility, her life took an intriguing turn into the world of chess.

How did it come to this? There was yet another victim of these ‘hologram malfunctions’, their minds stripped bare as they settled into a coma. Although she didn’t want to admit it, there was a pattern starting to form.  

Mai Kujaku was laid to rest in her room, her friends briefly visiting before departing for the final match of the evening. Clarisa could see the pain in each one of their eyes as they passed her, Jounouchi’s looking particularly weary. Of all her friends, he seemed to be the most torn up about her circumstances. The only one who remained was Shizuka, the soft-spoken red head. If Clarisa remembered correctly, she was Jounouchi’s sister and had a much stronger personality than met the eye.

“How is she?” Clarisa’s lips curled gently, rolling herself forward. Shizuka jumped a little in her skin, her darker eyes widening.

“Oh…I’m sorry. I didn’t…see you come in!” She stammered. Clarisa waved her off.

“I move rather quietly for someone with wheels for feet.” Her hands folded perfectly in her lap, the lukewarm bag of peas resting on her knees. “Are you watching over her?”

“Yes,” She replied, a grin brightening up her face.

“You seem to really look up to her.” Clarisa remarked, noticing the way Shizuka seemed to fluff up with pride.

“Mai is so strong.” She replied softly. “She’s such an inspiration to me and I want to be there when she wakes up from whatever this is. She is fighting this all by herself but she doesn’t have to be completely alone.”

“That’s true…” Clarisa said through a wry smile. She saw a lot of Sukie in this girl and her words brought her back to the time of the accident. Sukie and her father suffered from minor injuries compared to what Clarisa and her mother went through but both of them spent nearly as much time in the hospital, staying by Clarisa’s side when she woke up and in the darkest hours of her physical therapy.

“I’m sending my team in to look after Mai.” Her voice was smooth and assuring. “They might decide to move her once everything is settled.”

“Really?” Shizuka peeped and Clarisa nodded.

“It makes more sense to have all of the victims in one place for the doctors. It makes in convenient for them and they will be able to see how everyone is doing all at once.” The auburn haired girl nodded softly.

“Well, wherever she goes, I would like to stay by her side.”

“I’m sure we can make sure that happens.” Clarisa murmured through a chuckle, feeling a sting from the bruise on her cheek. Shizuka noticed.

“Miss Risa? What happened to your face?”  She brushed off the remark with a wave of her hand.

“I’d better get the doctors in. The sooner they look at Mai, the better.”

The pain on her cheek had subsided slightly after she rolled her way out of the room. Charles was waiting outside for her, a bag of frozen corn in hand. He reached out, gingerly taking up the peas and pushing the icy corn against Clarisa’s cheek. She hissed painfully on impact.

“I have my own hands, you know.” She grumbled, wincing.

“They looked occupied.” Charles remarked with a shrug and Clarisa managed a feeble glower.

“Charles, would you be able to have the staff take Mai to the medical wing? It would be much easier for them to keep an eye on her if all of their patients were in the same place.” Charles wordlessly nodded, taking the peas away in great haste. Clarisa sat there quietly, pressing the bag firmly as her thoughts came washing over her.

This was the third person to fall prey to some kind of powerful force. Whether it was the holograms or something much deeper, Clarisa wasn’t sure. Regardless, her staff was seeing plenty of use. She only hoped that there wouldn’t be any more casualties as the finals drew closer.

“I’m sorry, big brother. Although I’m using the computer network of Kaiba Corporation, it is taking a while to analyze the data. I’m accessing the host computer of Industrial Illusions.” Mokuba’s voice cut through her internal musings, causing the woman to stop her rolling. Without another word, she poked her head through, noting the way Mokuba furiously typed away on the keyboard. He was mumbling affirmations to someone over a headset. Clarisa had no doubt that it was his brother.

“Care for a little company?” She watched the dark haired boy acknowledge her presence by waving her in but his eyes maintained full contact with the computer. He was determined to get something done, which was all for the good. It took away from her face for sure.

Putting the corn into her lap, Clarisa rolled in, making herself comfortable to Mokuba’s left. She hoped this would keep him from seeing the swelling.

“So, are you unloading the copious amount of porn from your brother’s computer?” Though he didn’t look at her, Mokuba did scowl with disapproval.

“I’m looking for a translation.” He replied.

“What language?” Clarisa’s head tilted gingerly to the side. “I speak quite a few.”

“Only if you know Ancient Egyptian.” Her lips pursed.

“Unfortunately, they don’t offer that course in University.” She smiled at her own joke but Mokuba was too focused on opening Industrial Illusions’ database to pay attention to her. Instead of resigning to silence, however, Clarisa decided to go ahead and feed into Mokuba’s current task.

“So, two things. One, what is the translation you’re looking for? And, two, why are you looking into Industrial Illusions’ database?”

“I’m trying to translate the effects of the Winged Dragon of Ra.” Mokuba’s fingers continued to fly. “We received a satellite image of the card and I’m running it through every database I know to see if we can translate it. Industrial Illusions’ happens to be one of them.”

“And Pegasus just gave you access to that system?” The mischievous flash behind Mokuba’s eyes confirmed her suspicions of hacking.

“Another question, how do you know that this is the correct effect on the card?” Clarisa leaned forward

“If Malik was dumb enough to create a forgery, he would need to make it so convincing that my brother couldn’t tell it was fake.” He pressed a command key, pulling up a screen that Clarisa was surprised to see. The fourth match had begun between Seto and the final duelist. From what Clarisa could get of them, it was a woman dressed in very traditional Egyptian clothing. Though this woman held all of the silent power of an admirable opponent, Clarisa couldn’t help but notice the sad way her eyes roved over the field.

At the moment, Seto clearly had the upper hand, having eradicated all of her monsters and quickly filtering through her magic and trap cards. As he continued his destruction, his silver tongue lashed against her with all sorts of grandiose threats and self-praise.

“Does your brother do anything other than win games and insult people?” She hadn’t meant to say the thought aloud.

“You insult people a lot too.” Mokuba retorted, his hazel eyes finally taking the time to lock on her face. She could see his brow furrow slightly, eyes squinting to get a better view of her. She turned her head slightly in response, hiding the swelling.

“There is a difference.” She replied calmly. “Most people I insult rightfully earned them.”

“Seto hasn’t done anything to you.”  

“He annoys me.” Clarisa replied quickly.

“I annoy you.” She could see Mokuba tilting his head to get a better angle and she made another soft turn to avoid his gaze.

“Yes, but I like you. I don’t like your brother.” Mokuba’s eyes narrowed again, this time out of disdain. Clarisa smirked, shifting her face slightly and the younger Kaiba finally got a good look at what Malik had done.

“Wha…? Risa! What happened to your face?!” His hazel eyes were wide, a wash of white overcoming his face. Clarisa blinked, feeling a pinch from the bruise.

“I’ll tell you in a minute.” She said quietly. “But, first, is that bad?”

Out of the corner in the screen, Clarisa noted a sudden change on the screen. Kaiba’s deck, which had been so full of cards earlier, only had six left. The other duelist, Ishizu, was much more fortunate. The pale wash over Mokuba intensified, his lips stammering curses as he pushed himself out of the chair. He rushed out to watch the match, leaving the computer open for Clarisa to meddle with. On the one hand, she was rather tempted to mess with the settings. On the other, she was curious to see what exactly Mokuba was looking for.

Wordlessly, she shifted herself in front of the keyboard. The bag of corn was starting to condense in her lap and she took it into her left hand. As she pressed it against the bruise, she used her right hand to guide herself through the Industrial Illusions’ site. Her cursor dwelled over the contacts page, finding exactly the number she needed and proceeded to make a call.

“Hello?” Pegasus answered with his usual flair.

“Hello, friend.” Clarisa purred, a smile dawning on her lips. “It’s your friend, Clarisa.”

“Why…?”

“Shush. How much do you know about ancient languages?”

“I have an archeology degree…” He replied slowly. “Why…?”

“And you designed the Egyptian God Cards, yes?”

“Yes…Why…?”

“I’m calling because you are the best resource to get me what I need.” She replied swiftly. “Not to mention that I don’t have an ego that would be irreparably be damaged by asking you directly for this information.”

“I was wondering why you were calling from one of Kaiba’s numbers…” He chuckled.

“Indeed.” She purred. “Now, tell me about this god card…”

[thecrazydragonlady]

The Immortal Pharaoh Chapter 23

I... this chapter and the next one are wrecks.

“Oh man. We really missed everything last night,” Honda whined. Anzu and Yugi nodded as the four of them continued on their way to class. The morning had come with no indication that anything had occurred; the only thing close enough was a report about a mysterious fire at the docks that investigators couldn’t explain.

Anzu smiled, “Thankfully my parents were out of town this week for a business meeting so there wasn’t any need to explain why I was coming home so late. Rishid was also kind enough to stay as a guard.” Yugi nodded.

“That was nice of him,” Yugi said, “Oh, Grandpa’s alright too. A bit bruised and tired but nothing too bad. They were afraid with his heart the way it is, that he had a heart attack but everything checked out. They still recommended bed rest though.”

Jounouchi nodded, “Glad to hear it Yug. What’s Yami doing today anyway?”

“Staying by Grandpa,” he confirmed, “And still searching. So far, we’ve got five items accounted for- six if you consider we know that Malik has the rod.” Anzu leaned forward a bit.

“How many items are there anyway?”

“Seven,” Yugi replied. “We’re only missing the Millennium Ring. It’s not shown up at all since it went missing.”

“You don’t think that white haired freak could have it?”

“Pegasus?” Yugi shook his head. “We checked him. He only had the Eye.” Jounouchi touched his chin.

“That’s odd. I’m still hearing the rumors about a white haired guy running around making people disappear.” Yugi blanched.

“Wait! That’s still going on?” Jounouchi nodded.

“According to the gang it is.” Yugi’s brow furrowed. Now it was his turn to get the wheels turning.

“It’s a possibility….” He paused. “What if… What if Malik got the Millennium Rod from this guy?”

“How would that have happened,” Honda asked, scratching his head.

“Well, think about,” Yugi started, “we know the items were all stolen on the same night right? Pegasus must have sent someone to get them at first but what if this white haired guy struck the same night? That would explain why Pegasus only had the Millennium Eye.”

“Then that means that that guy walked away with the other two,” Anzu added. Yugi nodded.

“Right and if Malik ran into him, it’s possible the rod chose him which would explain how he ended up with it.” He paused. “I don’t think stealing the items meets the requirements Pegasus told me about last night….”

“That’s good and all but it doesn’t explain why he went off the deep end,” Jounouchi stated. Yugi frowned.

“I know but right now, that’s more information that we had a few days ago.”

“I’m sure Yami will find something,” Anzu assured them, “for now, let’s hurry. We’re going to be late.” The four of them started running to the gate and up to their classroom, making it just before the teacher walked in. They slid into their spots with a sigh. A couple of people teased that maybe Jounouchi and Honda were starting to rub off on the two of them. The door slid open. Everyone moved to their seats while their teacher went to the podium, motioning to the door.

“Everyone,” he started, “today I would like to introduce you to your new classmate.” Murmurs rose from amongst them. The teacher motioned again to the door. A boy about a head taller than Yugi walked in; he had shockingly long white hair and possibly a face that could rival Yugi’s in looking innocent. He joined the teacher at the front of the room. “Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

He bowed, “Hello, I’m Ryou Bakura. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” A couple of people whispered. Was that… a British accent? He didn’t seem to notice and continued with, “I hope to be good friends with you all. Please just call me Bakura!” The teacher patted his shoulder assuringly.

“That’s perfectly fine.” He looked around. “Why don’t you sit next to Yugi? Yugi?” He stood. “Help him out okay?”

“Yes sir,” he chirped. Bakura smiled at him and walked to the seat. Once settled, he turned, holding out a hand.

“Hello! I’m Bakura.” Yugi took it.

“Yugi.” They released hands.

When they got the time, Yugi found Bakura to be a very easy to be around. He was not only polite but thoughtful. The girls took to him almost instantly (much to the disgruntlement of all the boys in the class). Honda and Jounouchi pouted. Anzu patted them on the shoulder and assured them that none of the girls thought about them that way anyway so they had nothing to worry about. She covered her ears but laughed at their immediate responses. Yugi chuckled. Bakura, once broken free of a string of girls, stopped in front of him with a sigh. “You alright there Bakura?”

“I will be as soon as I get my breath back,” he laughed. He straightened. “So what now?”

“Now is lunch time,” Jounouchi cheered. “Why don’t you come eat with us?” Bakura blinked.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Anzu added. “It’s your first day here. Where else are you going to go?” He paused.

“… Good point.” The five of them made their way upstairs. The lunch period turned out to be the best time to learn about him so they asked him about everything: where was he from? What did his family do? Why had he moved to Domino City? He laughed once the bombardment was done and explained that he had come from Britain; his mother was Japanese and his father British. After her death, he had lived his life there. His father was also an archeologist (a coincidence that wasn’t missed by Yugi) who had worked in Egypt for a while. However, due to his declining health, he had to be moved to a specialty hospital here in Domino. Anzu touched his hand gently.

“It sounds like you’ve had it rough.” Bakura smiled.

“I’m alright. He’s alright right now and with the medical help here, I’m sure he’ll be just fine.” She nodded.

“Still, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask any of us.” He nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Say Bakura, since you don’t know the area that well and everything, how about we have a welcome to Domino party for you?” Everyone stared at her. Anzu smiled, flashing the victory sign. “How about we go to the arcade tonight?” Their faces lit up.

“That sounds like a good idea!”

“I’m down.”

“Sure thing. I’ll have to call Grandpa after school though.” They faced Bakura. He smiled.

“I don’t have to be to the hospital until later. Why not?” They cheered. While the four of them turned to finalize their plans, he smirked.

*****

The day stayed sunny. This pleased Anzu greatly, knowing that her plans weren’t going to be ruined with rain. Bakura was packing his bag when the four of them walked up, smiling at him. He returned the expression. Together, they walked out of the building, talking animated as they showed him through town. Bakura looked excited. They stopped by Burger World for a quick, early dinner, before they set off for the arcade. Yugi walked beside Bakura.

“You said your dad is an archeologist,” he asked. Bakura nodded.

“One of the best. He did a lot of digs for the British Museum. Mostly in Egypt.” He raised an eyebrow.

“That’s where my grandfather did his work too. I mean, he went all over but he liked Egypt the most.”

“Oh really,” Bakura asked, “It must be a small world after all.”

“That it is,” he beamed. Bakura returned the expression and Anzu called out to them, waving a hand. Yugi waved back, running to catch up to her. As he did, something changed. The Millennium Puzzle began to glow.

Bakura leaned forward, “Uh… Yugi? Is that thing around your neck supposed to be glowing like that?” Yugi’s eyes immediately went to it. The others turned, looking as well. Yugi’s face snapped up.

“One of the items is nearby,” he told them. Their expressions grew serious. They nodded to each other before Jounouchi, Honda, and Yugi took off. Anzu rooted through her bag for her cellphone.

“Sorry Bakura,” she apologized, finding it. “Looks like we’re not going to the arcade today. We’ll explain tomorrow alright?” She took off, dialing on the phone, and he raised a hand to stop her. When she was gone, he turned, snickering.

“Of course that fool shows up.” He kicked a rock, breaking a nearby car window. “No matter. Once Yugi and the Guardian defeat him, all it will take is for me to defeat them to have all of the items.” He softened again. “I’ll just need to play the part a little longer is all.”

*****

The four of them raced through the darkening streets; the light from the puzzle served as their guide, growing brighter when they got closer to the place where the other Millennium item was. They were panting when they finally stopped. They were standing in a park. It was dark except for a couple of street lamps. There was a fountain in the center but it was off; the wind rustled the trees and bushes around them. The puzzle was at its brightest. Yugi looked at his friends, “Whichever one it is, it’s here.”

“Great but where,” Jounouchi asked.

“Why don’t you try asking it,” Honda snickered. “Hello? Anyone out there? Calling all psychopaths!”

“Would you not,” Anzu snapped, “Refer to the people that could kill us in a heartbeat as psychopaths.”

“That’s exactly why I’m calling them that!”

“And why do you think they’re going to attack us faster? It’s because you’re taunting them!”

“Uh guys….” Honda and Anzu looked at Yugi who was wide-eyed. “I don’t think now’s the time to keep arguing. We’ve got a problem.” They looked around. Coming out of the shadows were a several people, all dressed the same way in long, dark hooded cloaks, the Millennium Eye glowing on their heads. They jerked though as if they had no control over their limbs. Jounouchi and Yugi backed up. Honda immediately raised his arm in front of Anzu.

“Oh man. What’s going on?”

“How would we know man,” Jounouchi returned. One of the men suddenly groaned, shooting forward with a raised hand, a pipe revealed from under his cloak. Jounouchi met him. He dodged the pipe by ducking down; when he came back up, he grabbed him at the collar and the front of his pants, sending him flying over his head. He hit a tree and slumped to the ground. Honda met another with a fist from the side. Jounouchi raised a thumb. He looked back over his shoulder at the other two, “Look around and see if you can find this guy. If it’s Malik, try to punch him in the face for me!” They nodded. Yugi took Anzu’s hand and pulled her out of the way. He cracked his knuckles. “You ready for this pal?”

“Always,” Honda smirked, tossing him the pipe his victim had thrown. They ran forward. So did the zombies. They groaned and grunted, coming forth with pipes and knives and all sorts of mismatched weaponry. They ducked when they could, tossed them, hit them in the back just hard enough to knock them out, before they moved on to the next zombified person. In total, about fifteen people went down. They were bruised and battered but both came out in relatively one piece. They panted. Raising a hand, they high fived.

“Good job,” Jounouchi breathed out.

“Same to you,” he returned. “Where did Yugi and Anzu go?” He looked around.

“They went to see if they could find the guy controlling everyone….”

“We’re here,” Anzu answered. The two of them emerged from the tree line, covered in a few sticks and leaves which they dusted off of themselves. “We couldn’t find him.”

“The puzzle stopped glowing a few minutes ago,” Yugi clarified. “But we kept looking just to be safe.” Jounouchi nodded.

“Good try you guys. At least everyone is coming out of this alright.” They nodded. Anzu looked down at her phone. There were several missed phone calls from the same number on it. She scratched her cheek.

“Oops.” The boys stared at her she dialed the number back, putting the phone to her ear. It took a few moments for the phones to connect, “Hey Yami….” She pulled the phone away from her ear and once he stopped shouting, she put it back, “I’m sorry. We were in a bit of a situation. I sent you a message about it.” Pause. “Oh. No one’s taught you to read text messages yet. Great. I’ll do that when we meet up. Just… Look, just wait there. We’re on the way back. Bye-bye!” She hung up the phone with a sigh, holding it up for them to see. “I called Yami to tell him what was happening and he was on the way to meet us but got lost.”

“We better go meet up with him then,” Honda replied. “He’s probably worried sick.”

“Probably,” Jounouchi teased, elbowing Yugi in the side, “Right Yugi?” Yugi blushed but nodded his head. The group returned the way they had come; the night had fallen completely and the street was lit up by the lamps and businesses around. They hadn’t emptied though. People, now ready for the weekend night, were out and ready to party. Yugi looked around. It wasn’t hard to miss the sprinting form of Yami. He was wearing jeans this time, a long turtleneck and a vest jacket Yugi forgot he owned. Jounouchi waved to him. He ran up to the group, staring at all of them.

“Are you all alright,” he asked. The four of them smiled at him and gave him a victory sign. His shoulders slumped. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“Sorry Yami,” Anzu replied. “I forgot to turn my ringer back on after school.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up too badly,” Jounouchi told her.

“That’s right,” Honda added, “Who knows what could have happened if your phone had gone off?”

“Not that it matters much now,” Yugi reminded them, “whoever it was, Malik or that other guy, was gone not long after.”

“We’ll need to be more careful then,” Yami confirmed. The four of them nodded but his eyes locked on Yugi, who flushed a bit under the expression. The other three shared a look. Suddenly, Jounouchi and Honda patted Yugi roughly on the back which tripped him into Yami’s hands. He caught him. They walked by.

“Well, I don’t know about you all but I’m tired,” Honda yawned. It was loud, over the top, and clearly faked. Jounouchi matched him.

“Yep. All that fighting really knocked it out of me. I’m going home to sleep.”

“Mom and Dad are coming home soon,” Anzu sung a bit, “I need to be there or get in trouble.” She winked at Yugi. “But hey, sorry we have to change our plans Yugi.” She clapped her hands. “I know! Why don’t the two of you go out and have fun for us?”

“But….”

“Have fun,” they sang to them. Before either of them could say anything, the three of them took off. Yugi was raging red. He promised himself to have a sharp word, or three, with them tomorrow. He face palmed. Yami tapped his shoulder and he jerked.

“What was that,” he asked. Yugi shook his head.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He paused. The red on his face grew a bit more; he covered it as best as he could with the back of his hands. “Do you… do you want to head to the arcade with me Yami?” He leaned his head to the side.

“What is an arcade?”

He smiled, “A place that has a lot of things like those games you like at home.” He held out his hand. “You want to go?” Yami looked at his hand for a second before nodding, taking, and allowing Yugi to drag him down the sidewalk and to this arcade.

Next