Ryou Bakura / Yami Bakura (
fluffydeathdealer) wrote2013-10-08 05:10 am
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Entry tags:
[CAMPUS/IC]
[This is a general post for threads that can't go anywhere else, to prevent making closed posts for one or two characters.
Threads here are 100% IC for
the_campus.
05/10/13 - A Soft Heart Breaking. (Date Mislabelled on actual thread)
05/10/13 - What Family's For
8/10/13 - Trespass of the Soul
13/10/13 - Fears of the Past
13/10/13 - The Great Evacuation
14/10/13 - A Beach Date! Jokes Spiralling Out of Control
31/10/13 - Questionable Intentions
03/11/13 - Secrets of the Mind]
Threads here are 100% IC for
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05/10/13 - A Soft Heart Breaking. (Date Mislabelled on actual thread)
05/10/13 - What Family's For
8/10/13 - Trespass of the Soul
13/10/13 - Fears of the Past
13/10/13 - The Great Evacuation
14/10/13 - A Beach Date! Jokes Spiralling Out of Control
31/10/13 - Questionable Intentions
03/11/13 - Secrets of the Mind]
8/10/13 - Trespass of the Soul
So Malik had deciding to do what he wanted, regardless of getting permission or not. The time Ryou spent out was used searching for where Bakura hid the dagger, and once he'd found it, it was only a matter of waiting until the event was out of recent memory.
Today, Malik put his plan into motion. He took this chance during Ryou's latest absence, pressing his hand to the blade and transferring a portion of his soul into it.
As soon as he's done he returns the dagger to its hiding spot and goes back inside to make himself an afternoon snack.]
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Underneath the drawer where the knife was hidden was a carefully wedged fragment of paper, that had been jammed in such a way that if the drawer was opened, it would fall. It was so small that it would be easily missed, underneath the drawer as it was. Even if it was picked up and thrown away, the absence of it would be a clue. That's why, after taking control of his host, his first move was to go to retrieve the knife... and check underneath it.
His eyes narrowed as his fingers found the paper missing, and he quickly checked under the dresser to see where it had fallen. Not far. Whoever had opened the drawer hadn't been too careful, even if they'd put the knife back exactly as it was. Holding it in his hand, he eyed it thoughtfully, closing his eyes to feel it out.
There was nowhere for it to hide. No darkness to conceal it in. While he would not have noticed it without the clue to prod him to check, it was obvious that it was there. His hand curls over the hilt of the blade. Malik...
That brat.
Carrying the blade in one hand, he headed for the kitchen, looking for something breakable. It was time to teach him a lesson.]
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The presence of the knife in the other man's hand doesn't go unnoticed though, and Malik does what he can to simply look back at his plate of food. It would be even more suspicious if he stared...so he'll just push a piece of mango around idly as he chews.
There was no way Bakura had noticed that quickly; he was just being paranoid. After all, Malik had put a fraction of his soul into the Ring that had managed to go unnoticed until it made itself known.]
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Setting it on the counter, he sets the knife beside, resting his hand on top of it. Energy seems to surge inside of him.
This is going to be uncomfortable.
Soul Transfer!
It's like something ripping away inside of him as he forcibly tears the soul fragment out, throwing it into the bowl as he keeps his back to Malik, shielding his actions from sight.]
Did you have fun while I slept, Malik?
[His voice is pleasantly cheerful.]
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The voice seemed cheerful enough though, so maybe it really was just paranoia.]
I got some training done...and managed to summon a 5-star monster for the first time.
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[Lifting the knife, he slides it back into its sheath - currently placed under his sleeve - and picks up the bowl.]
You've been a very bad boy. If you'd admitted what you did, I might not have felt the need to go this far.
2/2
[Whirling, he throws the bowl at the ground, with all the strength he can muster, his foot slamming down onto the pieces that were left.]
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In his chest, he could feel something else shatter, and the pieces carved at his insides. He could feel it so vividly...a part of himself had died.]
A-aaghh! [Malik fell back against the chair, his hands twisting in the fabric of his shirt as he trembled in pain.]
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This is the punishment for betraying me, Malik Ishtar.
[He expects guilt, but feels little of it. Strange. His anger seems to have swallowed his guilt down, like a hungry beast. It's just a fragment. Malik will recover. But...
Turning on his heel, he steps over to Malik, pushing his plate aside to sit on the table beside him and look him over. What pain... it's exciting to see. Malik's body wracked with tremors of pain, his body helpless...
He moves to place his feet either side of Malik, on the edges of the chair.]
Do you understand?
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He wasn't exactly mad at Bakura; frustrated and annoyed was more like it. Malik knew this was a possibility, and it had been a risk he was willing to take. He just didn't know it would hurt like this.]
Yeah...yeah. [He swallows, relaxing a little as the pain starts to become more tolerable.] I understand.
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But, Malik... it's strange that you're so willing to split your soul apart. How many fragments do you even have?
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How many...? I don't know. Uh...
[He falls quiet, trying to tally up the fragments he'd made...
There was the Ring, the sheath, the now-smashed bowl, Strings, Arkana, Seeker, Bandit Keith, Jounouchi, Lumis, Umbra, Anzu...Harriet...a handful of other Ghouls he needed to control from a distance...]
Twenty or so?
1/?
2/?
3/?
[His lip curls in distaste.]
4/?
5/6
6/6
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The Rod doesn't work from a distance. I needed soul fragments in order to control the Ghouls and others from afar. My plans wouldn't have worked without them. It hardly matters anyway...as long as I can finish what I set out to do.
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[The Battle City Finals...it was cruel to have been ripped from home when he was so close to the finish line.]
I wouldn't have needed to set any more fragments if it weren't for coming here.
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[Leaning over, he grabs Malik by the shoulders.]
Malik... please. Promise me you won't make many more of them.
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I'll make whatever I have to.
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[Letting go of him, he sits back.]
It's your funeral.
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