#♤ || Dance with the Devil (Threads)

[necrostar]

How unbelievably embarrassing. Him, the great Bakura, the master of stealth, the clear know-it-all of everything... got locked out his own house again. This time, however, with his lockpicking set still inside. He'd forgotten it when he left that morning.

And now, with nowhere else to go, he was at his doorstep like a stray. What a nightmare. It was one thing if he was here for... literally anything else. It's another when you need something.

Without a word, face tinged red, he knocked with the side of his fist.

"Atem! It's me, open the door!" He barked, stepping back with his arms crossed. He looked impatient, annoyed, and most importantly: like a wet cat. It poured rain the entire way over. Even the sky wanted to point and laugh at him.

@kitxkatrp

[necrostar]

He figured that was going to get brought up. And, well, it was nice being able to explain the situation to someone who could get it.

"I've never had a problem with heights." No, no. That wasn't it at all.It was something else that he didn't like to talk about. Something worse. "Malik just made it worse, honestly. They hardly got along as it was, but... They... I... was unraveling. I felt it." Even now he finds it hard to describe. But, for Gold, he'll do his best.

"It wasn't painful at first. Just a weird feeling. Like something was out of place. I wasn't built to house three like that." The crowding, so many people talking to him at once. Gods, just thinking about it now recalled the headache he got from it. "Nobody would shut up, everyone's backseat gaming, did he do that to you too?" How he wished to be able to reach inside of him and strangle everyone who opened their gods-damned mouth that day.

"Lo and behold, all of us get shipped off to the Shadow Realm, and guess what? They have this massive fight, and I start coming apart." Even now, he had to pause and pinch himself to be sure that he was right there and real. He didn't come away from it unaffected.

"It's like someone shoved me into a paper shredder, lit it on fire, steamrolled it, pounded it with hammers, lit it on fire again, and then stabbed it into oblivion. I could not recommend that less." It was a miracle he remembered any of that at all! "You can imagine that it's hard to remember things when you're slowly dying and they decide to puppet you in a last ditch effort to get anything done. Everything after that is an out of body experience that I barely remember."

Felt kinda nice to get that off his chest. Really nice. Like, wow, he had all that shoveled down because nobody would understand. Yet, well, here he was!

"Anything else you want to know?"

"....Unless you were the cause of this? I don't need your apology." Of course, Bakura was aware it was being extended toward the situation, blase pleasantries and all. He didn't want it, regardless if it was genuine, or spoken right out the ass.

...As least, as far as he told himself. Truth be told? It was.... Nice to hear from someone in such a similar situation. No otherworldly abilities, well, part from the two companions his counterpart had holed up in his skull. But he'd hardly call that an ability.

A pause, thinking. He himself had very clear memories of Battle City-- running his arm through with a knife, swallowing his pride and catering to the whims of a certain blonde with a god complex...

"Battle City. You mentioned having a distaste for that blimp-- and I'll assume that wasn't due to a fear of heights."

[necrostar]

Ah, how lucky he was to linger around these parts of Domino at night. If he couldn't go out and stare at the stars like he wanted, then he could spread his annoyance and irritation to someone else (and make some money, too)! A low chuckle left his throat as he counted the yen from the latest pilfered wallet.

"Hope you weren't saving this for anything, idiot." Bakura mumbled under his breath. Look at this! This is enough for groceries for at least the week! Score of the night, most likely. Stupid tourists. They always make themselves obvious and don't even bother protecting themselves from pickpockets. Ah, well, his gain and their loss! 

The wallet in question, once he was done, was 'dropped' in an alleyway. Best to make it look like someone else forgot it. Besides, in a place like this? Where everyone was either drunk or a tourist? Who would notice? 

Perhaps everyone except, well, them. The wealthy side of town that bordered this one. His gaze wandered up the rather nice buildings, an internal disgust churning inside of him. Imagine having so much money you can literally live above the poor. With just one gaze out a skyline window, you can pretend it's nothing but their pretentious selves with the little plebians scuttling beneath their feet. Tch.

But alas, he had to walk that way to go home. And they always stared and sneered at him. They knew he didn't belong. He knew he didn't belong. But one way or another, he had to go home to his little poor house and live his little poor life because he wasn't born made out of gold. He was fuming just thinking about it.

Fuming so much, in fact, that a silly little thought crossed his mind.  'Hey, Bakura, have you thought about trying the nightlife? I heard it's great for stealing.' 'But I don't have an ID. I know they check those, I pass by it every other night!' 'I know, but didn't you steal from Ryo the other night by mistake? You still have his wallet!'

He still has Ryo's wallet. Fuck it! Come on Barbie, we're gonna party!

And off he went, bolting to practically the first one he saw. But, dare he say, the lady right in front of him looks familiar. Where did he see that face before...?

@my-ohh-mai

[necrostar]

Every time Bakura passed that god-forsaken building, a cold shiver went over him. It wasn't haunted, run-down, or even scary. No, no. It was a reminder, that was all. A reminder of how he spent nearly his entire existence being, well, a little hellion doing what he thought was right. A hellion puppeting the poor kid who was destined to hold the ring. He'll never be able to look him in the eyes if he saw him on the street.

The worst part? This stupid building is the only game shop near where he lives.

Kame Game Shop. This is where Ryo used to frequent when he needed things for Monster World. It was home to his friend Yuugi, and the bearer of the puzzle he was destined to fight for. And now look at him! He's standing here like an idiot, staring at that shop across the street, because he's looking for the newest Monster World core book. This is a nightmare. Sure, he could go across the city and get it somewhere else, but that's so inconvenient when this is right here.

Half of him was telling him not to do it, the other insisting. They must feel his hesitation. Before he knew it, he was making the trek across the street. Pale hands gripped that handle, and it was thrown open a little harder than necessary. Hm. Overestimated the weight of it.

The ex-spirit felt his heart hit the floor as he walked inside. A cursory glance didn't single out what he was looking for, which made this entire experience even worse. He'd have to go to the front. Kick the man while he's down.

Both hands were placed against the desk, and he looked forward with both confidence and a burning desire to get this over with as fast as humanly possible as he asked,

"Hey, do you have a copy of the Player's Guide for Monster World second edition?"

He didn't even look at who was at the counter. He was just hoping it wasn't someone he knew.

@mutogamingco

[necrostar]

Shadowed Starlight

@iilahalzili

Bakura'd always been a night owl. One could chalk it up to being made from a renowned thief and a god of darkness and shadows, but there was just something about it that made him feel more welcome. Less people taking up the streets, less eyes to peer and judge, just him, the other lost souls that wander the streets of Domino City at this hour, the moon, and the stars that line the skies. He'd walked out of the main city to get a better look at them; all the light pollution made it nigh impossible to see anything regardless of how high the building was. He'd know; he's illegally climbed many buildings and fences to try and get a better look!

But there was something about tonight that felt... different. There was something telling him that he needed to go, go, go. Turn back and run. Run like the wind. Run like it's his last day on this earth. But nobody ever called him smart or intuitive to his instincts. He wanted a nice stargazing spot and no bitch-ass suspicion is going to ruin that experience for him. He had a nice clearing picked out, a blanket to lay on, some snacks if he got hungry. He's staying here and that's that. To hell with survival instincts.

But, just to be sure that he's likely just over reacting, he reached into his small backpack to produce a flashlight. A soft click broke the silence of the night, with a beam of artificial light destroying the natural lighting he had gone out to get in the first place. Wasn't particularly thrilled about it but, well, if it means getting some solace around here.

"Hello?" Bakura called out, slowly moving his hand to the right to peer into the trees, just to be certain there wasn't anything hiding in there. "Anyone there? Anything at all?" Maybe it was stupid to draw attention to himself like this, but surely it was nothing... wasn't it?

[necrostar]

@changedxhearts

Bakura had never felt so... So... he hadn't seen this place in years. It was all coming back to him in sudden flashes; the bewilderment, the terror, the blinding lights and shapes he saw for the first time. It felt so... at home. This is where he had to finally get what he was created for. He'd flown out ahead of the pharaoh and his friends to set everything up. This was it. This. Was. It. A shiver of excitement went down his spine at the mere prospect of it. But, well, there wouldn't be any harm at stopping down memory lane while waiting for them. Zorc was keeping an eye on things through the puzzle; he'd know when they were close. Until then, he was free to do what he pleased.

One of the first places he stopped was that marketplace he vividly recalled seeing through Ryo's eyes. His father looked like a wreck; he wouldn't even look at him, nevermind address him by name. The shopkeepers all looked some variety of panicked and concerned. Now, all those years later, it looked so... different. It was so crowded. The items at the shop were wildly different. The people weren't the same.  It was familiar, but it wasn't. He was willing to take what he could get at this point, quite frankly. Things were a mess inside that ring and this body couldn't get a wink of goddamn sleep. He hadn't a clue what Ryo was doing, but it certainly wasn't taking care of himself. 

He still had some money left over from his-- no, Ryo's-- first time in Egypt. He thinks. At least with the ring. Doesn't matter. But nobody was willing to take it; apparently it "wasn't legal tender." What does that mean? Money is money, isn't it? The Thief King's irritation at the whole debacle tore control from him, and the vicious argument he was having about it could probably be heard throughout the entire marketplace. It might have been ridiculous to anyone else, but to someone who has little grasp of how modern economics works, it meant a lot.

[necrostar]

@thueban-almawt

Now, he's always had a hard time sleeping, but this was something new. It's been.... gods he doesn't even know how many days. Melatonin isn't cutting it. If he so much as smells chamomile at this point, he's pretty sure he's going to throw up. Bakura's tried every trick in the gods-damned book to get some semblance of rest and nothing. Absolutely, positively nothing. His mind keeps jumping back to these feelings, these images, these sensations that he can't perceive clearly. They... who was this? Who was thinking of them? It? Whatever it was, it was important. It was sentimental. Zorc wasn't sentimental; this must be the Thief King. What did he care so much about? There wasn't anything he could immediately pull, and just the mental effort of desperately trying to parcel something, anything, of value was so frustrating that he was about to completely, utterly snap. It was when he was at his wit's end that he finally pulled something. A name, spoken with care and overwhelming affection.

Diabound.

Oh, yes, he's come across that name before. He had a card with that name once; not sure where the hell it went but it was there. He'd pulled it from a pack and the Thief King went buck-fucking-wild, demanding that he keep it. Put in his deck. And he would not take no for an answer. Not like he ever did, honestly. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was something the King of Thieves loved and cared for from the bottom of his heart. He must be missing it horrifically if it's preventing him from getting any gods-damned sleep. But what the hell could he do about it; the occult isn't his style and he didn't have the know-how to be pulling out ka! The King of Thieves didn't remember how if he couldn't find that by now, and if Zorc did know he's not helping. Which is just about par for the course. Typical. The most he got was something about a tablet, which he didn't fucking have.

Gods, what would Ryo do? Let's see, what was stuff he remembered his ex-host doing... Salt in a circle, candles, magic word bullshit, bam. He couldn't believe he was really sacrificing his little tea candles for this nonsense, and putting salt in on the floor in a poorly-done circle, but if it'll make the King of Thieves happy so he can finally go the fuck to bed, so be it. Once everything was prepared, he stood in the center and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, as the other was occupied with a match he'd lit before entering the circle.

"Diabound, if you're out there, the Thief King misses you. He won't shut up about it." Bakura's tone was practically deadpanned from exhaustion, and the sudden sharp pain through his head informed him that someone wasn't happy with the way he was talking. Too bad he didn't care at this point. "It's keeping me up all night. I want to go to bed already." The candles were lit clockwise, and he waited. If nothing happened in 45 minutes, he was going to bed. Surely this attempt will make him happy and he can just fucking sleep already. He was over it.

[necrostar]

@changedxhearts

Just his fucking luck. Just his motherfucking luck. Everything had been perfectly fine right up until this moment. First he finds a hole in the jacket he just bought. Then the frankincense that he ordered gets delivered to the opposite side of the city. And then his house key breaks in the goddamn lock. Seemed like the gods were out to get him, frankly. The whole thing made him angry. He can't call a locksmith until tomorrow so now he's reduced to the typical plan B: break into his own house.

The street was quiet last he'd looked, so hopefully nobody's watching. Not that it was a nice neighborhood; he just didn't want to have to explain himself to the police. Again. He didn't particularly have the tools to do this properly, but he had a knife. That was better than nothing, wasn't it? The blade was inserted between the window and the window shield and ran through as best as he could with the hopes that it would break up any paint seals. Which... didn't make very far. It was shut tight. And now he's having a hard time pulling the knife out. A slew of curses left his lips as he put a boot to the siding, grabbed the handle with both hands, and yanked. It wasn't budging, though. So two boots to the siding and pulling like it's Excalibur it is! He was definitely in need of a hand, and the only person he could even consider calling about it was...

The phone was haphazardly tossed to the side, on speaker, so he could try to pull this free with two hands. Hopefully Malik never changed his number; otherwise this would be more embarrassing than it already was.

[necrostar]

That question alone was enough to change his tune completely. His gaze became downcast. The feelings, the emotions that came with it, all of it came to the forefront of his mind. Shove it down, Star. Shove it down. That's not you anymore. He turned to go clean himself up, only pausing to state just this one little thing . . .

"...If you knew what he did, does, to me, you'd be cheering too." And he started walking away.

Star's soul, as sweet as the exterior was . . . the inside betrayed quite a bit. It was dark. Cold. And... empty. Zorc's presence was still there. It was thick. It was a black sludge, draped over the Thief's red, shattered remnants. It pierced every part of him. It was woven tightly, forcibly holding cracked pieces, both of Zorc and Thief King, into one. It was almost as if he was holding the soul together. Or... souls? Upon closer inspection, it had been split into two smaller pieces. Only conjoined through Zorc's efforts.

And, it would seem, that the prying didn't go unnoticed. 

The black goo suddenly tightened its grip, violently pushing the two halves against each other. Star stopped dead in his tracks. He stood uncomfortably still for what must've felt like an eternity. Slowly, shuffling, he turned to face his counterpart. The light in those eyes wasn't there. His posture had straightened. That face held no emotion, nothing. It was like someone else was standing there. Someone who didn't quite enjoy the prodding.

"I would not advise prodding into that which does not concern you." Even his voice didn't sound the same. Cold, commandeering. Not quite monotone, but suspiciously calm. Reminiscent of someone... thing... that was perhaps once in power. "I do not take kindly to intrusion on my domain. You, of all things, should know that. There is a reason it chose wisely to hold its tongue."

"He did." Godling confirmed. He didn't let it show, but the phrasing had struck him in an unpleasant way. He'd taken years to stop feeling misery at the thought of his creators demise, the pure joy on his alternates face was startling.

"You didn't enjoy your time with Zorc." He surmised, trying to surreptitiously feel out this alternates soul to feel for what links to Zorc he might have had.

"Down the hall you'll find the shower to the left. There's towels and clothes in the cupboard you're about my size so it should fit. I won't watch. I'll put the tea on." This wasn't one of Godlings usual homes, but he still had thought to fill it with supplies. Sometimes versions of him needed a place to stay and he tried to anticipate their needs.

Godling padded to the kitchenette and set to making tea. He had honey cakes somewhere too. And he needed the time it took to set everything up to think. This was going very well so far but he couldn't completely let his guard down. Even if his other self had seemed to sweet and needy, cold and wet in the forest.

[necrostar]

O-- Oh. He... wasn't expecting Atem to just dump his heart out like this. Felt a little awkward now, actually. What're you supposed to do when someone just dumps their feelings out for you to see? Nervous blue eyes flickered around the room, desperately attempting to come up with something to say to fill the awkward silence that surely permeated the air between them. 

"I... I didn't know you felt that way." Bakura quietly admitted, settling his gaze on the wall behind Atem's shoulder. He'd had an inkling that Atem physically wasn't doing well; if the cream and cane said anything about it. But to hear it from the other's mouth... "Listen, as I said before, I thought you were pretty popular." Apparently he was dead wrong about that. What can he say to make this any better?? 

"You're not gonna get less lonely if you don't put yourself out there." Never in his life did he think he was going to be the one standing here giving Atem advice, but here they were. Wild, truly. "Don't you have someone to talk to? Anyone at all?"

"They make specific types of enclosures for that, you know." But he was probably going to flub it the first time. Bakura was right, but he didn't consider their presence an infestation really. They kept the more problematic pests at bay and they weren't venomous, so he had no reason to deny them access to his home.

But the moment Bakura asked that question, he froze. His mouth, which had been open to say something else, closed.

He was silent for a moment as he considered it.

"...To be honest...not much..." He breathed out quietly. "I don't...get many visitors...and...the television is boring...and my body...means that I have a hard time going out on my own, no matter how much I wish to."

So often he was stuck here, sitting in his loneliness and trying to run away from it.

[necrostar]

Wide eyes stared up at Mariku, who seemed to be caught between several strong emotions. Hurt, anger, sadness just to name a few. He knew the struggle. Still as the dead, breath caught in his throat, eyes locked on the other in terror. He really believed he was about to meet his maker on his own kitchen floor; pinned by an enraged Mariku for daring to breathe a bad word about his lover. Even as the weight evaporated, as Mariku spilled his heart out, he was too afraid to move. 

"Mariku..." His voice was quiet; as if a normal volume would scare Mariku into another frenzy. Bakura didn't have a clue what was going on, but he knew he was too afraid to ask. Hell hath no fury like a Mariku scorned, especially if it involved Ryo. And that's a bone he now knew to never pick. There wouldn't be a next time after that.

"I think it's best if you left." He didn't want a sorry. He didn't want Mariku's apologies or explanations. The other man broke into his kitchen, antagonized him, and nearly murdered him for speaking one thing out of line. As apologetic as he seemed to be, the other man had done enough. He'd rather not see him again for a while. Maybe ever. The pain that he'd managed to swallow in order to protect himself was bubbling up full swing. He laid his injured arm back down on the ground as gently as he could; the other laid across his stomach. Gods, everything just hurt. 

Why'd this have to happen to him?

Mariku's hands had lain down on his legs and his body had sunken into himself, during what Bakura said. He had transformed from a wraith of rage to a still statue in a span of few moments, his batteries were long since giving out, he lifted one of his hands and saw himself already blurring out at the edges...

A long shuddering sigh left him and the darkness slowly pulled back into it's original form of light shadows in the corners. The sunlight behind him was shining through the window and already filtered through, him, like he wasn't real, like he was a mere Fata Morgana.

"..." The first thing he parted off was some low laughter, blackness still streaming down his cheeks freely. "... do you think, I don't know that?" He clawed at his own face furiously, staring at his own hand in bafflement, like he had never seen something like tears before.

"What am I doing here." He asked himself, not even realizing he said it out loud. "Ryo is going to have my hide for this... he wouldn't even WANT this..." His face was still smeared with black streaks and he snarled at Bakura, like he just realized that the other was there anymore - and then his face fell into something like remorse.

"... we've all been fucked over... and I let myself go being selfish like this..." The body above Bakura seemed to fade even more now and the weight seemed to be gone completely. "... yeah... I guess this is the best." He mumbled lowly, closing his eyes. "You can pretend to be something you are not for the longest time... but it's still there... it's still festering at you in silence..." He sighed. "I am still a deranged maniac with no control over their emotions."

He seemed to simply accept what was happening to him and it seemed to draw him away even faster. "For what it's worth, Bakura... barging in here and ruining you... and your home... I'm sorry... this wasn't supposed to happen." He showed his teeth at the other.

"But if you ever go after him again... I will put your body on a pole and watch it getting eaten by crows until you fucking perish. I like him... and I am not going to lose him. To NOBODY."

[necrostar]

Hallelujah, gods fucking bless. He never thought he'd see the damn bar at this rate. Or maybe that's just his impatience talking. The plastic little gold mines were pocketed as soon as he had them in his hands. He knew what he was using these for when he got home. Finally, he can stop trying to cook on a literal fire hazard. Just gotta make sure that he cleans up some other loose ends before he does it.

"Only an idiot would turn these down." That or some goody two-shoes. Which, admittedly, he had mistaken Ryou for on their first conversation. It was a pleasant surprise to see that it wasn't the case. It was always a gamble. 

Ryou's question of whether he wanted to eat or just drink gave him some pause. Oh, right. He hadn't eaten since this morning. Plus he isn't looking to get unbelievably trashed, so. Yeah. Food was a good idea. "I'll eat just about anything." Take that how you will. But seriously, he was starving. A sandwich sounded phenomenal right about now. "So do you just walk in or is it not that easy?" He vaguely recalled something about these things running different, but that was so long ago that he could easily just sound like an idiot.

With a smile, Ryou surrendered the two plastic cards over. "Not a fool that’s for sure. May your riches grow and flow like wine.” He hummed as he pointed up ahead, “There’s the bar.” A beautifully carved wooden sign with the letters of the FOUR THEIVES painted in rich green and were embossed in gold paint was hung over a pair of windows looking into what looked like a small bar. “This place has some decent drinks, and one of the best sandwiches in this decade.” He said with a touch of boyish excitement in his voice. “Do you like sandwiches or are you planning on having a liquid lunch?”

[furtheststxr]

Believe him, he most certainly knew what life would be like with Ryo. You really get to know someone when you share the same body. Even if Ryo never remembered what happened when Bakura was out. And, he'd say about 50 percent of the time, the opposite was true. But, well, when you have no other place to go, where else to turn but your former host?

He was still bitter about the paint, though.

"I think I can get it off." He mumbled under his breath, already chipping at it with his fingernail to see if it'll come off. Thankfully it wasn't his favorite set. You'll pry it out of his cold, twice-dead (once dead? was he alive to begin with?) hands. God, did he ever clean these out? It's a rainbow in here! How did this not ruin his paints?

"Besides, I'm certain that he does own his own set. At least I think. Maybe?" Has... has he ever seen Ryo with a mortar and pestle? He had to think about that one, frankly. It was entirely possible, and if Amane swears up and down that he did, then he most likely does. He's just never seen it. Eh, whatever. Not his business.

Now that he's got what he came for, Bakura easily side-stepped the setup, careful not to bang into it on the way out. Gods know the hell that will come upon his doorstep if something falls over.

"I'm not going to worry about it. If he wants to ruin my incense, so be it. I hope he enjoys paint undertones." It was definitely salty in tone, and he peered into his off-colored powder in annoyance. It was safe to say that he'd definitely picked up Ryo's perfectionism... but only when it's something he cares about. Selective perfectionism, if you will.

"So remind me what you're in here for, again? What's your excuse for coming into his little workshop?" If Amane wants to play interrogator, so can he! It takes two to tango!

On one hand she could sympathies a bit recalling more then once Ryou borrowing things of hers for one reason or another, and returning not quite the way it was but on the other hand it was kind of nice to see him being on receiving end of things for once. As if he hadn't done worse.

"Take that as a lesson, welcome to life with my brother,"

He had to be equally the most considerate while also the most absent minded person, with an often one track mind especially when it came to his models.

"Once when we were kids he asked to borrow my favourite mug, and then used it for the rinse water for his paint brush of course I only found out after the fact, even now still has a few paint stains." The slight smile that accompanied her small head shake showed there were no hard feelings held from the incident. If anything at this point it was more of an amusing story that came with a little lesson.

"I think that's when I finally learned to start asking before lending him things, at the very least makes it easier to prepare for what sort of condition it might be returned in,"

Nine times out of ten she'd still lend him anything he asked of her, goodness knows he probably had his own stories of her doing the same to him so it evened out in the end.

She watched as he made to carefully remove the pestle from its spot, personally she would have left it be for Ryou to deal with on his own, "Geeze be careful, you break that and he might break you." Well probably not literally he wasn't exactly the physically violent sort but she knew how proud her brother was of them and would be none to happy to return home to find them damaged.

"Hm, odd could have sworn he had one of his own," Did he forget? Was it still at the old place with their father? Sitting stored away in an unpacked box? Hell she supposed it was possible her brother had simply lost it at some point and had yet to be bothered to get a new one.

[furtheststxr]

He very eagerly awaited the answer, mind racing with the possibilities of what it would be like to be free. Free of sins that were never his to bear, free of the whispers and screams of people he never met, begging them for a salvation that was never his to grant. Or at least, that's what he thinks they're asking for. He didn't understand a lick of Ancient Egyptian. Not even the memories of the Thief King or Zorc could help with that one.

"It's quiet." The way the other said it made him pause. The wonder in his eyes immediately disappeared, and his gaze lowered. He'd never paused to think about how this might affect other versions of him. He'd just... naively assumed that everyone would agree that it was a blessing. A weight off their shoulders. He listened to the other speak in silence, refusing to look up to meet where he's fairly certain the voice is coming from. Was... he... he... He felt like an idiot for not stopping to consider. Selective optimism came back to bite him, just like it always did.

"I see." There was a dramatic shift in Bakura's tone. Excitement had dropped to somber. You could nearly taste the shame that dripped from it. Even his posture changed, pulling his hands from his pockets to cross his arms and take a more defensive position. "I... never thought about it that way." He wouldn't even know what an afterlife felt like. He's heard talk about it in some form or another, but the reality always hung over his head. He would never understand that feeling. He would never see those scales in the hands of the gods, weighing his heart against his sins.

"You sound like you've seen the afterlife," Bakura's tone was notably softer than it had been before. "Tell me, is it beautiful?" Is it what everyone else says that it is? He wished he could know. An outsider, looking in. It was like some exclusive club that won't let him in. He had ideas, he had a concept, but it was something he will never know. It was... envious. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, but the truth was always the most bitter pill to swallow.

Spirit nodded in his dimension, though the other could not see him, that affirming nod could still be perceived. "I am" alone. Not entirely. Alone in that he had no company, no other soul to converse with, no spirit to listen to, for centuries he was surrounded by hundreds of voices. Begging, sobbing, howling, screaming, praying....wishing! Then at the final battle, one voice bellowed over all the voices. The Pharaoh's name had been spoken, a god had been awaken and everything was suddenly bathed in a warm light. It was a light he had not seen for a Millennia, but then Horakthy, Creator of Light... stripped that light and everyone from him. All their voices pried away. How did it feel? How does someone describe suddenly being alone? How do you explain the feeling of the endless sentences and trials since that day? Zorc had been banished, King and his people had finally crossed over, but he was left. He could not be banished like a god, who only had to bide their time before they were reborn again in human hearts, he could not be destroyed either, he could not cross over like the mortals he loved so much and there was nothing to go against the Scales. Wishes after all, were immortal like gods, but were held in the human heart. Such bright eyes his other self had, the way he looked up at the heavens. Did he think he had found someone who understood him? Someone who had attained freedom and happiness? They glistened like Ryou's, that gleam of wonderment. How should he answer? His fingers pressed into the spaces between his chains, weighing his choices. A lifetime of false promises and sweet lies, puppeted by Zorc, any answer could do. His throat tightened, fighting against the fear of his answer being an engrained habit and lined with lies or if it was something true to his core. "It's quiet."

His fingers closed around his restraints and into his thighs. The peace he had here, was only temporary. In the shadows lurked the insatiable beasts of the Shadow Realm, and the Overseers charged with his sentence were always close by, ready to tear into him and remind him of his crimes. Zorcs crimes, Young Bakura's Crimes, Ryou's Crimes, every action done since that night, and his failure to grant their wishes. "My thoughts are my own." He answered with a somber grin, "Indeed. It happens every day." He chuckled, as though it was a simple inconvenience. He glanced down at his hands, his left still shaking and marked with decay from being grabbed earlier. "In their absence, to others, I am them." He closed his hand, he had to believe it was still better, "After a million years, who wants to be bothered in the afterlife they've sought for so long?"

[furtheststxr]

"Oh, absolutely. I'd love to stick it to him." The aftermath was totally worth it. There is no one he despises more than Zorc, so every opportunity to ream him is like another Christmas! He ruined his life! He's might be the reason he exists, but that doesn't mean he has to worship the ground he walks on. Come hell or high water, Necrophades, you'll get what's coming to you. Bakura will make sure of it.

He completely understood the other being worried about Zorc coming out. "I know you're still a little worried. He's a god. But even deities are bound by their rules." Who wouldn't with a past like theirs? He chewed them up and spat them out. Sure, he came out the other end looking to return the favor tenfold, but his mirror? Not so much. He's most certainly learned by now that not everyone comes out for the better. That's just the nature of living. The nature of being.

He just wished it was something he could understand.

"Thank you, really." The other's words of reassurance were more than welcoming. Sure, he could say them himself, but hearing it from someone else was so validating. He's been trying to convince himself of the same thing for so long. "I'm glad you feel like you can trust me. I know that it's probably not often that you feel that way; I can say with confidence that I usually don't either. I don't think anyone does, now that I think about it." How often was it that people could build trust so quickly? Eh, a philosophical question to dwell on another day.

"If you ever need anything, anything at all, you're more than welcome to come to me." It's the least he can do for a mirror, especially one that he's bonding with so well.

Finally Bakura looked up to meet his mirrors expression. Blinking a couple times at the smile and words. He couldn't help but smile back slightly though still looked stressed. "Really? Are you sure...?" He didn't want to bother his mirror but was very thankful he's met him and they seem to be bonding and getting along well.

Eyes did widened at the infomation given but shook his head silently saying ir was fine. "I'm not ..worried i can understand that - as long as he can't.. come out or anything like that." He pauses listening to the rest and nods again in agreement. "Again, i understand...But to me? You are... you no one else. I talk with you now and i don't picture him..or the other... i see you." He smiling slightly again trying to also reasure him. "I mean...In this one conversation i feel i can trust.. you."

[furtheststxr]

"The what." That explained... close to nothing. It's an alien world, that much he understood, but it left more questions than answers, frankly. "I assume that's the alien world you're talking about?" Bakura was struggling to wrap his head around it, but it was still interesting. "Is it like the Shadow Realm?" He was curious, really he was. He's not even sure why he keeps getting surprised by every answer he receives; but maybe that's because he hadn't believed in aliens until this bombshell just got dropped on him.

furtheststxr​:

chaosmarik​:

furtheststxr​:

chaosmarik​:

“Look who crawled out of the darkness.”

“I could say the same to you.” Bakura grumbled, putting a hand on his hip. “How the hell are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the Shadow Realm or dead or something?”

“Unlike you I didn’t crawl out of the darkness. I went beyond that and was reborn to an alien world”, he answered, not that he expected Bakura to understand. Surely, he had never met a barian before.

Bakura had to pause and just… take that in. He’s heard some wild stories but nothing quite topped that.

“I hate to say it but I’m very intrigued. Please, continue.”

“I didn’t expect you to understand. I was reborn to a world of chaos, the Barian World”, he explained.