Joint Post! Like an Old Married Couple

[fluffydeathdealer]

[From just outside the jungle's trees, near the mountainside, some bickering can be heard:]

Here. It's probably fresher than you'd like, but it's all we have.
...I can't eat that, Bakura.
You don't have the option to be picky, Malik!
No...I really can't, you fool!
Tch... I can cook it a bit more, but we have to be careful, or the smoke from the fire will give us away!
Ughh...can't you find some fruit? Just look up.
Do you want to die? If someone finds you while I'm out looking for fruit, you'll have worse problems than having to eat meat.
But Bakura... [Malik sounds a bit like he might be ill.] My stomach...
O-oy! Hold on a little longer, okay? I'll see if I can find something close by. I'll stay within earshot, so if someone approaches, scream.
Just get a couple...I don't need that much.
Be quiet, you idiot. You need to eat something. [He chomps down on the meat Malik refused to eat.]
Well? I can't eat anything if you don't go get something!

((ooc: So! Tags will come from both Bakura and Malik. If we're going to tag you with both on a turn we'll put a "1/2" in the subject line, otherwise it's just one at a time. Also since the two of them are injured, we just ask that nobody with magic healing powers comes along to heal them up and stuff. Thanks!

Warnings for adult content in some threads.))

Comments

[obeytherod]

That's all? [Malik peers at Bakura's leftovers...that was a lot of leftovers. It was polite to leave a few, but it seems Bakura just hadn't been that hungry.]

Keh. [Still, he takes the plate away, placing both of theirs into the sink before sitting down again.

He then proceeds to just star at Bakura's bandages, as if trying to gauge just how bad his injuries were beneath them.]

[fluffydeathdealer]

[He scoffs a little, embarassed. Like he'd have cared about politeness. The problem was more to do with his stomach being a problem than anything else. Noticing Malik's eyes, he stared back.]

...what? Is there something wrong?

[obeytherod]

[After a minute of silent debate, the question simply comes out.] How bad are your burns...?

[fluffydeathdealer]

Want to see?

[He flashes Malik a grin, those sharp teeth of his bared for a moment like a dog sensing a threat. But his expression turns a little more serious after that.]

Mostly second-degree, some third. My arms and back got the worst of it; my monsters shielded the rest of me enough that the burns didn't cover too much body mass. I had to spend a couple of days in the infirmary before they'd let me go. They wanted to keep me longer, but I insisted on leaving the minute they were certain I wasn't going to have a heart attack.

[obeytherod]

[Malik felt another surge of pain in his chest, but did his best to simply ignore it, and suppress it like he always did. It was harder, though, when you actually liked the person.]

I can help you change your bandages later, then. [He averts his eyes, glancing over towards one of his many motorcycle magazines that still sat on the table.]

Also...I still owe you a thank you for getting back my Rod, don't I?

[fluffydeathdealer]

Hm... you're being so thoughtful today. Maybe I should wake you up like that more often.

[Sitting back in his chair, he stretched awkwardly before looking back over at Malik.]

What did you have in mind?

[obeytherod]

Ghh... [That learns a teeth-gritting leer.] Say that again and I might change my mind.

[He pulls one of his magazines over to idly flip through.] Nothing anymore, what with your condition.

[fluffydeathdealer]

[Wait is he saying-]

...oy! Just because I'm a little hurt doesn't mean we can't do things like that.

[obeytherod]

[He glances up at Bakura again, inspecting his bandages.]

...You call second and third degree burns "a little hurt"?

[Maybe he shouldn't have brought it up. He's not even sure why he did in the first place.]

[fluffydeathdealer]

...we can do things a little differently. It'd be kind of awkward to do it the same way we usually do.

[He didn't really want to admit why it'd be awkward, but the fact he needs painkillers is an obvious enough answer.]

[obeytherod]

...Differently? How, exactly?

[Maybe he should have been reading up on something else besides motorcycles this whole time.]

[fluffydeathdealer]

...I'm not sure. My back got it pretty bad too, so I'd have to be sitting up or something.

[obeytherod]

...Sitting up...

[He could do that. It might be a bit uncomfortable though...]

We could try.

WARNING: POSSIBLE ADULT STUFF INCOMING?

[fluffydeathdealer]

Heh, if it doesn't work out, we can always try something new.

[Looking a little smug, he settles back.]

Though I feel a little underdressed compared to you...

[Lifting his unhurt leg, he leisurely presses his bare foot against Malik's crotch, rubbing him through his clothes.]

Don't you agree?

[obeytherod]

Don't you mean I'm overdre--ahh... [Malik wasn't expecting that foot and he shifts away, face already taking on a darker tint around his cheeks.

The thing was...he didn't want to take off his shirt. It meant looking at those scars again, and everything they stood for. The thought alone dampened his mood.]

I'm fine, actually...

[fluffydeathdealer]

[Bakura snickers a little, staying where he is. Malik's lowered mood doesn't escape him.]

...? Is something wrong?

[obeytherod]

No. Nevermind. [Well aware that he'd depressed the atmosphere, Malik just grabs one of his magazines and buries his face in it.]

BAKURA IS DISAPPOINT, WARNING END

[fluffydeathdealer]

[...Damnit, Malik, you cocktease. Oh well. It'd be a pain to work around like this anyway, he supposes.]

Hm... I see. Then you can make up for the Rod thing later.

[Damn, now he's back to boredom. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulls out some of his painkillers and dry swallows them without bothering to check the dosage. He knows it's not enough to overdose.]

RIP

[obeytherod]

[His gaze drops as he places a hand over the impalement scar that hid just under the fabric of his shirt.]

I'll think of something interesting by then. But for now, I'm going back to sleep.

[Rising to his feet, Malik heads to the bedroom.]

LATER...

[fluffydeathdealer]

[Leaving the bedroom to Malik, for now, Bakura had retreated into the Ring to recuperate. By now, after having awoken for a short while before Malik had come back, Ryou was aware of his physical condition - though he didn't know why. He'd checked the bedroom upon realizing someone else was there, just a peek to make sure Namu was still breathing, and then...

Well.

He didn't really have anything else he could do. His hands hurt too much to spend long periods working on any projects, his computer was at home, and it was too painful to go to the library after he'd already wandered around boredly for a while. So instead he settled himself at the kitchen counter, one of Namu's motorcycle books propped up in front of him. Huh... some of this stuff was pretty cool. Maybe he should make a special diorama for this later. A little motorcycle showcase as a 'sorry for putting up with my crazy' present. Or just for fun.

Holding a pencil between his teeth, he tapped it thoughtfully on a blank sheet of paper in front of him. Funny, he couldn't even think of anything to write. It was like his mind was rebelling against him.

...it was probably the painkillers.]

Re: LATER...

[obeytherod]

[Malik wanders back out of the room once he found himself bored of lying awake in bed and mulling over everything that had happened since he came here.

His hair a bit mused and his jewelry missing for once; it really was a testament to how out of synch he was feeling that he couldn't even do that. When he sees Bakura, he doesn't realize right away that it's not the right one.]

...Oy, Bakura. You never told me how often I have to change those bandages.

[fluffydeathdealer]

...eh? Are you hurt too, Namu-kun?

[That was the natural thought in response to such a thing. Especially considering Namu was asleep in the middle of the day and still... well. To be frank, he didn't exactly look like he was in his right mind.

Especially with such a brash way of talking. It didn't sound right.]

Are you alright...?

[obeytherod]

[Stopping mid-step, Malik takes a moment to stare at Bakura, his shoulders hunched in an almost comedic fashion.

...No. He didn't feel like acting today. Forget it. He'll just come out with it; it didn't matter anyway!

His words are even brasher than before, as if to drive the point home.]

No, I'm talking about your bandages. Do I look hurt to you?

[He flicks his head, pushing some of the hair from his face with it.] And my name's not "Namu"--it's "Malik"!

[fluffydeathdealer]

[Woah. Really?

...this is actually a good change. He can handle Namu- no, Malik - being rude. At least this means no more personal space problems. But why would he be using a false name?]

Eh? Really? ...I don't know, but I think with burns like these, you're supposed to at least check them daily to make sure they're not infected. But why would you be helping with these bandages, Malik-kun?

[obeytherod]

[Making his way over to the table, Malik grabs a chair and sits on it backwards so he can rest his arms over the back.

He smirks cruelly at the other boy. He felt bad for burning Bakura...not Ryou.]

Probably because I'm the one who burned you alive.