He should have known better than to pick up that holocron. Really. He really really should have. His Master had always told him that his curiosity was, bar none, his absolute worst trait.
But it had been a pretty thing, in the shape of a puzzle, and he had reassembled the thing without even thinking about it, senses half-drowned by the Force singing in his ear and straight through him, and now he's stuck with a golden pyramid and a voice in his head that enjoys providing running commentary on the myriad ways that he is terrible at fighting, negotiating, and being a Jedi in general.
This would be much more efficient if you'd just let me take over, Atem says helpfully, unruffled as blaster bolts slice through his incorporeal form. We both know I'm a much better fighter than you could ever be.
It is not Yuugi's fault that his talents lean towards healing and games, and so he deflects another bolt and growls through gritted teeth, "No thank you," because Atem might be a dead Sith lord hanging around in his head but that's no reason not to be polite. "I'm handling this."
You're handling this badly, Atem points out, and okay, fine, so the dead Sith lord maybe is capable of logical thinking but Yuugi is not lending out his body to someone who thinks that the liberal use of the Dark Side is the solution to everyone's problems.
Not everyone's problems, just yours, Atem corrects, and Yuugi would really like to throw him through a bulkhead or something, but he's a little busy right now, and anyway, there's nothing there for him to push, which is kind of irritating.
Instead of thinking about throwing me through a bulkhead, why don't you throw them through one? Atem asks, which is just annoying.
"Either shut up and help or stay quiet and let me concentrate," Yuugi growls, dodging underneath a rather alarmingly large grenade and dropping to the floor as the explosion hits.
All right then, Atem says with a disconcerting amount of cheer for a Sith lord, But just remember that you wanted me to help.
And then there's an earsplitting screech of tortured metal as Atem stretches a hand out and drops the bulkhead in question on the starship that Yuugi's opponents had been using as a hiding spot.
Yuugi closes his eyes tight against the screech in the force as a dozen sentient beings die, and when silence once again floods the docking bay, cracks open one eye to fix a rather smug-looking Atem with a poisonous glare.
"That does not count as helping."
Atem smirks. Dark side 12, Light side 10. You really need to catch up, Yuugi.
Yuugi pushes himself off of the ground, stalks over to the mass of metal and corpses, and methodically begins to pull the survivors out.
He ignores Atem's complaining as he begins healing the worst of the lot--saving the last three of them, after all, will up his tally, and that means Atem is going to lose the contest for today, and they both know it.
Yuugi takes a spare moment to think of his Master's despair at not only unlocking the holocron, bearing the Sith's spirit, and letting it keep egging him on into ridiculous games of chance, but his mission success rate has never been higher, and oddly enough, he seems to be saving more lives than ever before.
But he knows better than to share that observation with anyone, especially the spirit still lingering over his shoulder and grumbling about how force-choking the last victim shouldn't count as cheating since it's technically a mercy kill anyway.
"It's cheating and you know it," Yuugi says serenely, and fights down his own smirk. It's a worrying sign of how much time he's spending with the Sith, he's sure, but he can't really bring himself to care all that much, since the force all but purrs in approval whenever Atem proposes a new contest, and it's actually kind of... fun, in a way that his missions have never been before.
That'll be another secret to keep, but Yuugi's quite all right with that. He's getting pretty good at keeping them, after all.
The only successful part about the corruption would be Yuugi's amusement at Sithboi's antics. And the fact that technically the score he keeps would be a tick on his record if anyone could track it down. ^___~
But it had been a pretty thing, in the shape of a puzzle, and he had reassembled the thing without even thinking about it, senses half-drowned by the Force singing in his ear and straight through him, and now he's stuck with a golden pyramid and a voice in his head that enjoys providing running commentary on the myriad ways that he is terrible at fighting, negotiating, and being a Jedi in general.
This would be much more efficient if you'd just let me take over, Atem says helpfully, unruffled as blaster bolts slice through his incorporeal form. We both know I'm a much better fighter than you could ever be.
It is not Yuugi's fault that his talents lean towards healing and games, and so he deflects another bolt and growls through gritted teeth, "No thank you," because Atem might be a dead Sith lord hanging around in his head but that's no reason not to be polite. "I'm handling this."
You're handling this badly, Atem points out, and okay, fine, so the dead Sith lord maybe is capable of logical thinking but Yuugi is not lending out his body to someone who thinks that the liberal use of the Dark Side is the solution to everyone's problems.
Not everyone's problems, just yours, Atem corrects, and Yuugi would really like to throw him through a bulkhead or something, but he's a little busy right now, and anyway, there's nothing there for him to push, which is kind of irritating.
Instead of thinking about throwing me through a bulkhead, why don't you throw them through one? Atem asks, which is just annoying.
"Either shut up and help or stay quiet and let me concentrate," Yuugi growls, dodging underneath a rather alarmingly large grenade and dropping to the floor as the explosion hits.
All right then, Atem says with a disconcerting amount of cheer for a Sith lord, But just remember that you wanted me to help.
And then there's an earsplitting screech of tortured metal as Atem stretches a hand out and drops the bulkhead in question on the starship that Yuugi's opponents had been using as a hiding spot.
Yuugi closes his eyes tight against the screech in the force as a dozen sentient beings die, and when silence once again floods the docking bay, cracks open one eye to fix a rather smug-looking Atem with a poisonous glare.
"That does not count as helping."
Atem smirks. Dark side 12, Light side 10. You really need to catch up, Yuugi.
Yuugi pushes himself off of the ground, stalks over to the mass of metal and corpses, and methodically begins to pull the survivors out.
He ignores Atem's complaining as he begins healing the worst of the lot--saving the last three of them, after all, will up his tally, and that means Atem is going to lose the contest for today, and they both know it.
Yuugi takes a spare moment to think of his Master's despair at not only unlocking the holocron, bearing the Sith's spirit, and letting it keep egging him on into ridiculous games of chance, but his mission success rate has never been higher, and oddly enough, he seems to be saving more lives than ever before.
But he knows better than to share that observation with anyone, especially the spirit still lingering over his shoulder and grumbling about how force-choking the last victim shouldn't count as cheating since it's technically a mercy kill anyway.
"It's cheating and you know it," Yuugi says serenely, and fights down his own smirk. It's a worrying sign of how much time he's spending with the Sith, he's sure, but he can't really bring himself to care all that much, since the force all but purrs in approval whenever Atem proposes a new contest, and it's actually kind of... fun, in a way that his missions have never been before.
That'll be another secret to keep, but Yuugi's quite all right with that. He's getting pretty good at keeping them, after all.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment