Yami no Fics, Yami no Malik & Yami no Bakura, Never get out of here Alive
Title: Never get out of here Alive
Theme number and theme: # 9, Tournament
Genre: general
Rating: M
Warnings (if any): none.
Characters: Yami no Bakura, Yami no Malik
Short summary: Even in the most hopeless situations, pacts can be born.
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Look at him standing over there. A little hunched over the bed, talking to himself, holding a golden, shining object in his hand. I observe him from my beloved shadows, providing a safe cover until it’s time to reveal myself. I would feel pity for the man in the bed, obviously in a coma - Malik has told me he’s his adoptive brother called Rishid - but pity is for the weak, and my sense of pity has been warped through the ages of wandering around in pure, unadulterated Darkness. In short: I couldn’t care less if that man is killed or not. He’s a bystander, a comatose one to boot; he doesn’t contribute to the game, he doesn’t attribute to the setting. Collateral damage. He has no link to the Pharaoh and he isn’t the Pharaoh himself, so why would I even care?
Save him, the voice in the back of my mind keeps calling out to me. Save my brother! I don’t like taking orders. Wouldn’t it be amusing to just keep standing here, and let the events play out..? I haven’t seen human blood in a long, long time. I watch with growing interest. He’s fidgeting with the object, one of the seven majestic artifacts known as the Sennen Items. I widen my eyes. I didn’t know there was a dagger concealed in the Sennen Rod! What do you know, you learn something new every day. Savehimsavehimsavehim, the voice has become a loud wail. Impressive. I didn’t expect Malik Ishtar to have this much strength. For now, he’s reduced to a mere spiritual presence and his original body is standing next to the bed. If I’m not fast enough, he’s going to kill Rishid after all.
I allow the Ring to chime before I step out of the shadows. It’s always such a sense of satisfaction, seeing someone look up with either fear or surprise in their eyes when they hear that sound. The dark side of Malik Ishtar surprises me by not even looking up. I can see him scowling though, but he doesn’t plunge the dagger into the man in the bed. In fact, he slowly turns to me, visibly angry.
“Sorry for interrupting you,” I say. That anger, that hatred in his eyes… it’s invigorating, sending delicious chills down my spine. I recognize that hatred, and if shadows were able to eat, they’d have a massive banquet with this guy’s hatred. Quite ironic that his original personality, now seeking refuge in my mind, is such a pathetic whiny mess, still wailing about his brother.
“You must have a very good reason,” he answers, leaving the “…or else…” unspoken. His voice is just a little lower than regular Malik’s, but the disdain and arrogance he speaks with, is delectable. It’s going to be my pleasure to bring him down on his knees and make him plead for his life.
“You know who I am?” I ask.
“The Spirit of the Ring.” Good, so he’s been paying attention at least since my duel with the Pharaoh. Or perhaps he knows me from the beginning, when I ran in front of Malik’s motorcycle to stop him. I had sensed the wielder of another Sennen Item, and we made our first pact in that back alley. Not even Malik himself is sure when his darker side was actually sentient or aware of everything that’s been happening in this tournament.
“And you are…” I can’t finish my sentence as he uses the power of the Sennen Rod to push me back, and I smack against the wall painfully. The wind is knocked out of me, and I gasp, clutching at my chest. Malik has warned me for this. His darker half is exactly who he said he would be: violent, dark. I should’ve expected this. I try to laugh it off, but he stopped paying attention to me. Instead, he has turned to the bed again, lifting up the Rod. My Ring chimes again, paralyzing him.
“What are you doing?” he growls.
“I’m not afraid of you.” I lower the tone of my voice. “The powers of our Items are equal.”
“Perhaps we should settle this in another way.” Funny how he doesn’t seem impressed. Most people would scream and beg when confronted with such powers. It’s an exciting thought that this one may be the hardest to bring down. It’s been a while since I’ve been challenged like this. I allow the Ring to cancel its powers and the dark entity can move freely again. He taps on the Dueling Disk attached to his left arm. “A duel? A battle for my poor shujinkaku-sama’s body and soul?”
I make a dismissive gesture with my arm. “No, not for his body or soul.”
That surprises him. He really thought this was about his body, the original Malik’s body. He’s still surprisingly calm though, with only the anger showing on his face, not in his voice. His movements are controlled, and there’s this hint of amusement surrounding him, as if this is one big joke, one big fun playtime thing to him. I… don’t like unpredictability very much. I have never factored a person like Malik’s darker personality in my plans and I’m usually not quick to adapt. However, this is an opportunity I can’t pass on. If I win this duel, I can get the Rod in my hands. I point at the Rod and he lifts it.
“This?” Now he sounds possessive. He doesn’t like the idea of betting his beloved Item.
“I gladly accept your challenge,” I say.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Taunting. “Maybe you should go back to bed and rest up, after what Osiris did to you.”
“I’m fine,” I snarl at him and immediately berate myself mentally. Taking Osiris’ attack full-on was a huge setback. My host’s body hasn’t fully recovered yet. After winning the Rod from Malik’s dark half, I really do need to go back to bed. I can’t run the risk of collapsing.
“Let’s go upstairs to the dueling ring.”
“Tsk, tsk, such hurry.” He screws the cap back on, excruciatingly slow. His eyes rest upon me; now I notice he has no pupils. Weird. How can he keep such a calm, blank exterior with so much hatred and anger running underneath? Somehow he forces me to wait, to watch his movements.
“What’s the delay?” I ask. He cradles the Sennen Rod to his chest, fingers running up and down the long shaft.
“The winner gets the Rod,” he says. “And the loser..?”
“Well, a one-way trip to the Shadow Realm, of course.”
He grins at me. “So you’re not going to fight over my body? How does my shujinkaku-sama feel about that?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” I wander my mind just briefly, in search of Malik, but I can’t find him. Maybe he has retreated into the farthest corners, and I don’t have the time to poke him out of his lethargic state. He promised me to help me with the duel - he knows his own deck best and besides the Rod, obtaining the Winged Dragon of Ra would be an even sweeter victory. Malik is desperate enough to have his original body destroyed, and I can always evict him from my mind, a residue of a weak personality is not difficult to erase.
His eyes travel over my body and come to a rest at the Ring. “You’re a fool if you’re collecting all the Items.”
I touch the Ring in an almost identical possessive manner. “So what if I am? It doesn’t concern you.”
“You’re right.” He turns away from the bed, the dark purple cape swishing behind him. For now, this Rishid is safe. Hopefully he appreciates the great sacrifice of his younger brother. It’s amusing. Humans and their ‘sacrifices’ are so amusing. But now I have to deal with an entity of darkness, and it gets my blood boiling. Annoyance, excitement, anticipation and apprehension. “What do you say, when I suggest we should up the ante?”
“What do you mean?”
He tilts his head in almost child-like curiosity. “The duel. Let’s turn it into a Shadow Game.”
My blood isn’t boiling, it’s howling. The taste of the shadows, the stress of the dark, ominous Realm, the chill and the devouring heat, all together... it’s calling for me, it wants me back, it wants me to control it. I am the Darkness. Why should I be afraid? I played Shadow Games from the moment I was born. I don’t hesitate.
“I can’t wait,” I say.
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This entry was originally posted at http://the-goldenpath.dreamwidth.org/81621.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Theme number and theme: # 9, Tournament
Genre: general
Rating: M
Warnings (if any): none.
Characters: Yami no Bakura, Yami no Malik
Short summary: Even in the most hopeless situations, pacts can be born.
---------------------------------------------
Look at him standing over there. A little hunched over the bed, talking to himself, holding a golden, shining object in his hand. I observe him from my beloved shadows, providing a safe cover until it’s time to reveal myself. I would feel pity for the man in the bed, obviously in a coma - Malik has told me he’s his adoptive brother called Rishid - but pity is for the weak, and my sense of pity has been warped through the ages of wandering around in pure, unadulterated Darkness. In short: I couldn’t care less if that man is killed or not. He’s a bystander, a comatose one to boot; he doesn’t contribute to the game, he doesn’t attribute to the setting. Collateral damage. He has no link to the Pharaoh and he isn’t the Pharaoh himself, so why would I even care?
Save him, the voice in the back of my mind keeps calling out to me. Save my brother! I don’t like taking orders. Wouldn’t it be amusing to just keep standing here, and let the events play out..? I haven’t seen human blood in a long, long time. I watch with growing interest. He’s fidgeting with the object, one of the seven majestic artifacts known as the Sennen Items. I widen my eyes. I didn’t know there was a dagger concealed in the Sennen Rod! What do you know, you learn something new every day. Savehimsavehimsavehim, the voice has become a loud wail. Impressive. I didn’t expect Malik Ishtar to have this much strength. For now, he’s reduced to a mere spiritual presence and his original body is standing next to the bed. If I’m not fast enough, he’s going to kill Rishid after all.
I allow the Ring to chime before I step out of the shadows. It’s always such a sense of satisfaction, seeing someone look up with either fear or surprise in their eyes when they hear that sound. The dark side of Malik Ishtar surprises me by not even looking up. I can see him scowling though, but he doesn’t plunge the dagger into the man in the bed. In fact, he slowly turns to me, visibly angry.
“Sorry for interrupting you,” I say. That anger, that hatred in his eyes… it’s invigorating, sending delicious chills down my spine. I recognize that hatred, and if shadows were able to eat, they’d have a massive banquet with this guy’s hatred. Quite ironic that his original personality, now seeking refuge in my mind, is such a pathetic whiny mess, still wailing about his brother.
“You must have a very good reason,” he answers, leaving the “…or else…” unspoken. His voice is just a little lower than regular Malik’s, but the disdain and arrogance he speaks with, is delectable. It’s going to be my pleasure to bring him down on his knees and make him plead for his life.
“You know who I am?” I ask.
“The Spirit of the Ring.” Good, so he’s been paying attention at least since my duel with the Pharaoh. Or perhaps he knows me from the beginning, when I ran in front of Malik’s motorcycle to stop him. I had sensed the wielder of another Sennen Item, and we made our first pact in that back alley. Not even Malik himself is sure when his darker side was actually sentient or aware of everything that’s been happening in this tournament.
“And you are…” I can’t finish my sentence as he uses the power of the Sennen Rod to push me back, and I smack against the wall painfully. The wind is knocked out of me, and I gasp, clutching at my chest. Malik has warned me for this. His darker half is exactly who he said he would be: violent, dark. I should’ve expected this. I try to laugh it off, but he stopped paying attention to me. Instead, he has turned to the bed again, lifting up the Rod. My Ring chimes again, paralyzing him.
“What are you doing?” he growls.
“I’m not afraid of you.” I lower the tone of my voice. “The powers of our Items are equal.”
“Perhaps we should settle this in another way.” Funny how he doesn’t seem impressed. Most people would scream and beg when confronted with such powers. It’s an exciting thought that this one may be the hardest to bring down. It’s been a while since I’ve been challenged like this. I allow the Ring to cancel its powers and the dark entity can move freely again. He taps on the Dueling Disk attached to his left arm. “A duel? A battle for my poor shujinkaku-sama’s body and soul?”
I make a dismissive gesture with my arm. “No, not for his body or soul.”
That surprises him. He really thought this was about his body, the original Malik’s body. He’s still surprisingly calm though, with only the anger showing on his face, not in his voice. His movements are controlled, and there’s this hint of amusement surrounding him, as if this is one big joke, one big fun playtime thing to him. I… don’t like unpredictability very much. I have never factored a person like Malik’s darker personality in my plans and I’m usually not quick to adapt. However, this is an opportunity I can’t pass on. If I win this duel, I can get the Rod in my hands. I point at the Rod and he lifts it.
“This?” Now he sounds possessive. He doesn’t like the idea of betting his beloved Item.
“I gladly accept your challenge,” I say.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Taunting. “Maybe you should go back to bed and rest up, after what Osiris did to you.”
“I’m fine,” I snarl at him and immediately berate myself mentally. Taking Osiris’ attack full-on was a huge setback. My host’s body hasn’t fully recovered yet. After winning the Rod from Malik’s dark half, I really do need to go back to bed. I can’t run the risk of collapsing.
“Let’s go upstairs to the dueling ring.”
“Tsk, tsk, such hurry.” He screws the cap back on, excruciatingly slow. His eyes rest upon me; now I notice he has no pupils. Weird. How can he keep such a calm, blank exterior with so much hatred and anger running underneath? Somehow he forces me to wait, to watch his movements.
“What’s the delay?” I ask. He cradles the Sennen Rod to his chest, fingers running up and down the long shaft.
“The winner gets the Rod,” he says. “And the loser..?”
“Well, a one-way trip to the Shadow Realm, of course.”
He grins at me. “So you’re not going to fight over my body? How does my shujinkaku-sama feel about that?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” I wander my mind just briefly, in search of Malik, but I can’t find him. Maybe he has retreated into the farthest corners, and I don’t have the time to poke him out of his lethargic state. He promised me to help me with the duel - he knows his own deck best and besides the Rod, obtaining the Winged Dragon of Ra would be an even sweeter victory. Malik is desperate enough to have his original body destroyed, and I can always evict him from my mind, a residue of a weak personality is not difficult to erase.
His eyes travel over my body and come to a rest at the Ring. “You’re a fool if you’re collecting all the Items.”
I touch the Ring in an almost identical possessive manner. “So what if I am? It doesn’t concern you.”
“You’re right.” He turns away from the bed, the dark purple cape swishing behind him. For now, this Rishid is safe. Hopefully he appreciates the great sacrifice of his younger brother. It’s amusing. Humans and their ‘sacrifices’ are so amusing. But now I have to deal with an entity of darkness, and it gets my blood boiling. Annoyance, excitement, anticipation and apprehension. “What do you say, when I suggest we should up the ante?”
“What do you mean?”
He tilts his head in almost child-like curiosity. “The duel. Let’s turn it into a Shadow Game.”
My blood isn’t boiling, it’s howling. The taste of the shadows, the stress of the dark, ominous Realm, the chill and the devouring heat, all together... it’s calling for me, it wants me back, it wants me to control it. I am the Darkness. Why should I be afraid? I played Shadow Games from the moment I was born. I don’t hesitate.
“I can’t wait,” I say.
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This entry was originally posted at http://the-goldenpath.dreamwidth.org/81621.html. Please comment there using OpenID.