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

[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.]

[fluffydeathdealer]

[The sudden release takes him by surprise and he hits the floor with a thud. Unlike Malik, Bakura is very much capable of fighting hands-on when he has to. But he is injured, and his body is exhausted from earlier. While Bakura is capable of ignoring a massive amount of strain and forcing their body beyond its limits, even he can tell it's not going to hold up if he keeps causing trouble. His feet rest against Malik's thigh as he lies on the floor, breathing heavily. One hand moves to the injury that Malik had been clawing at, feeling the blood dripping from it.

It feels rather good.]

Haah. [The laugh comes out almost croakily.] That was probably the stupidest fight of my life.

[obeytherod]

...Bastard... [Is all Malik can answer, being too busy as he continues to reel over the sharp, although fading, pain in his side. As brief as it was, it had been intense enough to draw a few tears out of him. They weren't too noticeable though, what with the way his head was being hung right now.]

[fluffydeathdealer]

[Being on the floor made it easier to see those tears, however. Bakura's eyes widened as he moved, drawing his legs to the ground in order to rise to his knees. Oh, Malik. Poor, silly, foolish Malik.

Reaching up, he angles himself so his lips almost brush against Malik's cheek.]

That's true...

[Liiiiiiiick ★.]

...you aren't the only one that can play dirty.

[And with that whisper, he rises to his feet and stumbles over to the bed, flopping down on it with his back to Malik. If he can't lie on the couch, he'll lie somewhere else.

...Malik's tears taste of salt and eyeliner.]

[obeytherod]

... [Malik's eyes widen when Bakura suddenly approaches, but it's nothing compared to abject look of shock and disgust on his face when he feels that tongue run up his cheek and under his eye.]

Hh--?! [He doesn't even know how to respond to that, the words caught in his throat as he stares wild-eyed at Bakura now laying on the bed.]

[That bastard...he'll get him back for that! Even if it's through Ryou!]