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
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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]
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/?
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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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[Beneath that rising fury, Malik sounded hurt.]
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[Folding his arms over his chest, he looks away.]
If you did, you'd treat me like a person instead of acting like I'm some sort of toy for your amusement.
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[Malik reaches down, pulling off one of his fingerless biker gloves so he can show Bakura the scar stretched across his palm.]
If you were just a toy...I wouldn't have done this! I'm not beyond manipulating others to achieve my own goals, but what benefit would this possibly have for me? It's not like you listen to a damn thing I say anyway!
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[He moves to take Malik's hand, pressing a light kiss to the scar. That's right... As unkind as Malik acted, he had made that promise regardless, hadn't he?
A sigh ghosts over the raised flesh as he lets it go.]
I listen. But the way you talk is sometimes... a lot colder than that. Sometimes it sounds like you don't care for me at all.
Heh... I guess I'm the same, aren't I? Old habits die hard.
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You are the same. [He says flatly, taking his hand back and pulling the glove over it.]
We're... [His fingers were still gripping the edge of his glove, stuck there in mid-motion. Where had he even been going with this...?]
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