I am Malik Ish-- I MEAN MY NAME IS NAMU.

[obeytherod]

[Malik had humoured the nurse, listened to her explanation until it made him burn with fury and he knocked her back with a telekinetic blast of his Millennium Rod. He storms out of the office mere moments later, letting out a frustrated cry.]

Rruhh! This cannot be! [Why this, in the middle of the Battle City tournament?! He was so close, so close to his revenge on the Pharaoh he could practically taste it, and now he was here. It made him so furious, and--]

[The teenager suddenly winces, bringing a hand to his head as an intense headache pounds at the forefront of his skull. He takes a moment then to calm himself, shaking for a bit before he finally straightens back up.]

[The Egyptian looks either way down the hall, silently hooking his Millennium Rod to his belt. Now was the worst possible time to be caught off guard like this. But for now he would just have to hope he could find a way out of here...and that he wouldn't bump into anybody who might recognize the Rod for what it really is. Then again, even if he did, he could always use the Rod to warp their mind into thinking it was nothing more than a decoration.

Still, he better play it safe and put on a nice face. After all, he was supposed to be Namu, not Malik.]

Ah...I really am lost! [He calls out innocently.]

((ooc: Here's his Permissions Post for anybody that missed it. I'll default to "no" on everything otherwise, and ask on a case-by-case basis.))

Comments

[obeytherod]

[Murderer, thief, drug addict, gang member...at least Malik only qualified for three out of four of those!

He had expected Bakura to say yes, but considering how long he took to answer he had actually begun to worry. Begging wasn't his style, but it was vital to his plan to secure a "friendship" with Bakura's host.

When Bakura finally submits with a roundabout yes, Malik grins.]

Ah, thank you Bakura-kun! You won't regret this. [He jumps to his feet.] I'm going to go use the shower now!

[And he runs off.]

[fluffydeathdealer]

. . .

[WHAT HAS HE AGREED TO?

Well, at least he's helping someone out. Stretching out on the couch, he reaches underneath it to grab a small first aid kit he'd begged from the nurse, before sitting up and taking care of the cuts as best he can. He didn't want to get blood everywhere.

Sigh.

What a weird guy. Nice, though. He must have been really afraid of being left on his own. Maybe he had a big family or something.]

[obeytherod]

[Oh yeah, Malik was supposed to be helping Bakura, wasn't he? Well, he could do that after he showered...]

[About thirty minutes later Malik comes out sparkling clean. He's put all his jewerly back on, but opted to change into a spare set of clothes he found in one of the drawers instead of wearing the same used clothes again. That spare set included a pair of baggy pants and...Bakura's trenchcoat. Just the trenchcoat.

On his way out, he casually grabs the Millennium Rod from where he hid it and activates its powers.]

Bakura, come out. I'm sick of your damn host.

[fluffydeathdealer]

Why the hell are you wearing my coat?

[Folding his arms over his chest, Bakura stares at Malik with something resembling puzzlement.]

[obeytherod]

[He walks over, hooking the Rod on his belt.]

Oh, this is yours? [Notice the distinct lack of care in his voice.] I needed to change into something.

[fluffydeathdealer]

You have your own clothes, you know. Just check the drawers.

[Hm. Not a bad view. Malik didn't look the type to have that sort of muscle tone. Maybe there was more to him than he thought.]

...besides, you could have just gone without a shirt.

[Speaking of, just gonna toss his jacket over the back of the couch uncaringly.]

[obeytherod]

[That actually has Malik blinking, now wearing a look of puzzlement all his own.]

How would I have clothes in the drawers...?

[He glances towards one of those drawers, now curious if he should have looked a bit more carefully.] And I didn't want to.

[fluffydeathdealer]

Everyone does. I'm not sure how they know your size, but they do.

[A light shrug and he shoots Malik a wicked smile.]

What - after hanging over Ryou all this time, you were worried about showing off too much?

[obeytherod]

... [That was disconcerting. Malik walks over to another set of draws and decides to test this theory. Unfortunately he stops at Bakura's next comment, looking over his shoulder to shoot the other man a glare.]

What? I was just playing the role.

[fluffydeathdealer]

Oh? Is that so?

[He's really starting to wonder about this guy. And he knows Ryou is too.]

I guess you could never be called 'shy', Namu-kun. Though you definitely pulled the wool over my host's eyes. He thinks you're very nice.

[obeytherod]

...? [Malik furrows his brow, still leering...and not quite getting what Bakura was trying to hint at.]

As long as I deceived your host, that's all that matters. Although the less time your host is out, the better. I don't have any use for him, after all.

[fluffydeathdealer]

Too bad. I'm not interested in taking over needlessly. Besides, he might get suspicious if he blacks out too much more than usual.

You're going to have to put up with him at times. That's the price you pay for moving in with us.

[obeytherod]

Tch. [Malik scowls and turns back to the drawer, finding that it does indeed have some clothes that fit his tastes. Lots of midriff exposing shirts, as you might imagine.]

Fine. He's a pushover anyway, it won't be hard to simply ignore him.

[fluffydeathdealer]

Oi, oi. You promised to help him, remember? And besides, he's going to be worried about you, once he comes out again! Gyahahahahahaha!

[He throws his head back, laughing.]

You've caught yourself in an endless loop of kindness, Malik Ishtar!

[obeytherod]

... [That further sours Malik's mood. He finishes looking at the drawer and shuts it before walking over and taking a seat on the couch.

Leaning his elbow on the armrest and propping his chin up, Malik glowers at his "partner".]

Well, I'll just have to make sure Bakura-kun finds out Namu isn't as nice as he previously thought. And why would he be worried? Is he aware of your existence?

[fluffydeathdealer]

That's right. He's known for some time now. He'll be worried for your safety, heheh!

[Swinging himself around, he draped himself over Malik's legs uncaringly, letting his legs dangle over the arm of the couch. There wasn't anything particularly attached to the movement; he was simply more comfortable stretching out than he was sitting upright.

If it made Malik uncomfortable, all the better.]

After all, you wouldn't have been the first of his friends I've hurt.

[obeytherod]

Ohh, how cute~ [Mockingly, followed by a small chuckle.]

[Malik tenses when Bakura suddenly rests his head on his lap, the Egyptian being nothing short of shocked by the abrupt gesture. He holds his hands up now, as if ready to shove Bakura off at any moment.]

...What the hell are you doing?

[fluffydeathdealer]

[He snickers at the mocking tone, his smile only growing more amused at Malik's shock.]

What? I thought you were okay with close contact. I got hurt for you, so be good and let me relax a little.

[obeytherod]

You fool, I was acting! You injuring yourself has nothing to do with this!

[Nope, Malik decides right now that he won't be dealing with this. They may be "equals" right now, but that didn't mean he was going to put up with Bakura thinking he owned the place. ...Even if he did own the place.

Malik attempts to shove him onto the floor.]

[fluffydeathdealer]

You bastard-!

[As if he would go without a fight! He'd been expected this move, though he wasn't as prepared for it as he could have been. Grabbing Malik by one of his wrists, he shoves back, using his feet to brace himself against the sofa. His hair brushes the floor, but he manages to hold on in that awkward position, half-on and half-off the couch.]

I believe I asked you to be good, Malik!

[obeytherod]

...Heh! [Malik smirks rather viciously at that. Seeing Bakura hanging down there like that just struck him as really funny, and almost instantly dissolved his sour mood.]

Well, you can't always get what you ask for. [He reaches over to that hand grabbing his wrist and starts to pry the fingers loose.]

[fluffydeathdealer]

Maybe you can't.

[The words were almost sarcastic. Almost. As if there was anything in this world he couldn't get with enough time and effort! But ah, Malik,, what a mistake. Now both of your hands are occupied.

Grabbing him by the collar of the trenchcoat, he tries to use Malik's position to throw him off the couch.]

BUT I CAN!

[obeytherod]

Ghh--! [Malik lurches forward from the tug, but isn't thrown off quite yet.]

Let go of me, you fool! [He lets go of the hand on his wrist and then, spotting one of the many cuts Bakura had earned on his fall, digs his fingernails right into it.

Malik Ishtar never did play fair.]

[fluffydeathdealer]

[That was definitely not playing fair.

His vision turned momentarily red at the sharp, unexpected pain. He's tempted to just use the Ring's prongs to shank him for that, but there's a better idea in mind.

Bringing his knees up sharply, he tries to drive them into Malik's side.]

I'll let go... when you... stop cheating!

[obeytherod]

Gah! [That did it. Malik lets go of Bakura's wound and hunches over, cringing as he his arm around his side. The kneeing been a spot-on kidney shot, and left him gasping.]

Ghhh... [He lets his head just rest against the armrest. Malik was never a physical fighter. If he were, he wouldn't need the Millennium Rod so badly.]