Chapter Text
*
*
In the early dawn light, the Old Vixen stumbled out of the bushes, groaning a bit.
That giant rabbit bastard would make a fine feast, but that kick… She winced a bit, ribs still sore on both sides from both the kick and where she’d hit the tree. What was this world coming to, her island being invaded by loud human teenagers during the mating season, old gods turning up and feuding and now a… The humans had called them ‘Dwarf Mammoths’, which seemed like a contradiction in terms, and she’d seen the bones of a beast her ancestors’ ancestors had had to deal with- There was nothing ‘Dwarf’ about those horrible, tusked creatures that used to roam the island. Now there was a huge, tusked beast back wandering the island, reeking of death and scent-tracking, on the hunt for… The Vixen didn’t actually care, she decided. She just wanted all these interlopers Off Her Damn Island Post-Haste. Honestly, if one more magical human or strange monster turned up-
She froze from where she’d been furiously grooming herself beside a bench in the Asshole Human’s garden of f*cked-up shrubbery as a magical portal opened up behind her. She sighed heavily, drawing herself up to savage the ankles of whatever-
She stopped.
The… thing emerging from the portal looked like every animal she’d ever seen at once, and like none of them. They were huge, even taller than the awful tusked monster, if not quite as wide, with a shimmering black coat like a Raven’s feathers. Their head was a horrible bleached-bone carrion skull, with flickering fires where Their eyes should be. From one step to the next Their feet changed from paws to hooves, shaking Their head and sprouting antlers in front of Their hare-like ears that grew less like bone and more like rose bushes, shedding leaves and petals instead of velvet. From down here, she could see They weren’t an animal- the shimmering coat was draped over a ‘body’ of sticks and small bones and leaves, bundled together with twine.
They walked past her, translucent and not present- Their hooves and stately gait didn’t even disturb the dew on the grass, gradually fading from view as the sky grew lighter with the dawn, until They seemed to vanish entirely in the first rays of the sun.
Behind her, there was another set of footsteps and she whipped her head around to see an exhausted-looking human in sand-colored robes and carrying enough weapons to storm the castle all by himself.
“Hwet?” She yelped at him.
“Oh the hell if I know what that is!” Shadi shrugged furiously. “We just got off at the same exit..”
The Vixen rolled her eyes and got up, marching into the bushes, chattering in agitation.
The Venerable One needs to explain what’s going on RIGHT NOW. She growled, stalking down the hill after his scent. Or I’ll see to it He never enjoys another mating season again!
*
Shadi watched the fox stalk off with a suspicious amount of purpose, then looked back in the general direction the massive spirit had vanished. They apparently remembered him but traversed the shadows too fast for him to catch up and get some answers.
“What a fun way to start the weekend.” he muttered, shifting the KA-74 on his shoulder into a more comfortable position and glaring up at the castle above him.
“...That certainly looks like Maximillon’s artworks.” He nodded at the cartoonishly decorative castle, blending several centuries worth of architecture styles together with a sort of manic fervor that left the final building with a faint sense of psychotic unreality, like the whole thing would deflate like a balloon if jabbed with a stick.
“The Eye doesn’t seem to have improved his metaphorical sense of vision much.” he grumbled, weaving through the garden of artistically sculpted shrubbery, in the shapes of monsters from the shadow games- Summoned Skull, Mimicat, something that was probably meant to be Kuriboh but the little beast already looked so much like an unattended sedge that it felt like cheating to him, Mahad, Celtic Guardian-
-Mahad?
Shadi stopped, walked back through the simple hedge maze to the turn he’d passed and peered down it to see-
There was something strange and disquieting about seeing the visage of his former friend and colleague, passed so many centuries ago, rendered with startling accuracy and detail in foliage, staring down at him with the same imperious glare Mahad had leveled at every enemy of the Pharaoh, or if Shadi ever told him a particularly bad pun.
There was also something extremely funny about it.
*
Mokuba woke up again from where he’d been curled up in the cot in the back of Keith’s shack to the sound of some idiot laughing his f*cking ass off.
Keith had woke him a few hours ago, asking if he wanted to come with them to the “super-secret spooky arena I found for Bonz” which did sound cool, but he was also exhausted, and he’d opted instead to curl back up with Shadi’s robe inside the sleeping bag and stay hidden until Seto could come get him.
It took Mokuba a few moments to triangulate and process the sound, but whoever it was seemed to be quite close. Slowly, he got up, still wrapped in Shadi’s cloak for warmth against the morning chill, and stood on his tip-toes on the edge of the cot to peer out the shed’s narrow window.
There was a flash of light and Mokuba found the distinctive feathered turban and heavy eyeliner of Shadi- Surely, nobody else had ridiculous makeup like that- as he took a picture of the Dark Magician Topiary…
…With a smartphone.
That’s not right. Shadi wouldn’t know what to do with a smartphone.
“-And where the hell did that Gun come from?” he asked with some alarm as Shadi turned his back towards Mokuba and he got a good look at the old Semi-automatic underneath his cape as it flapped away from him in the ocean breeze.
Slowly, Mokuba lowered himself from the window, sitting cross-legged on the bed, frowning. He wasn’t a Kaiba by blood, but he’d inherited the family paranoia and distrust ambiently, like breathing in asbestos. He rubbed the soft wool of the Cape Shadi had given him the previous night.
Which he seemed to still be wearing.
Well, maybe he had a spare? He pulled those weird Scales and phone and that candy out of nowhere, no reason he wouldn’t have a spare coat in there too? He pondered.
Or.
Or Adults are lying to me again.
He curled up tighter, not quite willing to let go of the cape and the faint hope this was all some sort of terrible mix-up.
“Seto?” He spoke quietly. He wouldn’t be able to hear, obviously, but that had never stopped him before. “Seto, why do people always lie?”
*
Shadi got to the window overlooking the topiary garden just as he heard whoever was laughing disappear into the castle door beneath him. The sun was barely even up yet, and while he didn’t need to sleep, he could still feel the aggravations of Being Awake For Too Long and glared out over the disconcertingly cartoonish hedges, wondering what was so goddamn funny at five in the morning. Even Ammit had gotten too annoyed by their extended trip to tolerate human interactions, and had gone thundering off into the brush after a gaggle of Foxes some hours ago. She would return, he knew. He was a favorite toy of hers and never left unattended for long.
He shrugged, armor clinking, and returned his attention to the interior of the castle, which had, somehow, even more questionable art, both in terms of quantity and dubiousness.
“The Thief seems to have gone down a particularly strange rabbit-hole of madness.” He muttered, glaring at the fourteenth depiction of a cartoon rabbit he’d found on this floor alone. “-Rather literally.”
The rest of the art wasn’t much better- he recognized the Ka Monsters of old, faces familiar even through his shattered memory and the haze of millennia, but almost not through the twisted lens through which the artist, Mr. Maximillion J. Pegasus himself, had painted them. Almost as though his vision was literally warped by some twisted eye…
… Oh no.
He’d turned out of the gallery onto a mezzanine above the main hall, and come face-to-foot with the grand portrait of the Castle’s King.
Mokuba had been entirely honest and correct- the man did have long white hair, a manic disposition and a Millennium Item- but the thing that glittered menacingly through the oil paint down at him was not The Ring.
“What f*ckING IDIOT allowed a Painter , of all things, to get ahold of the Eye?” he wailed, pulling the Scales out and frantically pinging the item to summon Ammit. “It’s bad enough in the head of a priest, the last place it needs to be is connected to the brain of a Creator! No wonder the world is crawling with horrors made flesh!”
He unsheathed his sword and activated the Scales, holding them out before him, until the left plate tipped and he turned to the left, hunting down the Eye, and the poor bastard that had gotten stuck with it somehow. He made his way through the labyrinthine castle like this, following the tilt of the Scales and gripping the Kopesh in his hand, hoping Ammit would turn up again soon before he was forced to confront Pegasus alone.
Instead, the Scales seemed to be confused, tugging him back and forth over the same path again and again, clearly locked onto the signal of the Item, but acting like it was changing location.
“Of course! The Eye must have allowed him to see me coming!” Shadi snarled, returning the Scales to the hollow in his chest where he kept everything truly important. He turned into the next room, closing the door behind him, closing his eyes and trying to think rationally about this.
You can’t rely on Magic for everything. He scolded himself. Think! What powers does the Millennium Eye possess? Sight Beyond Sight, but it’s different for every wielder. So is he seeing me through the walls of the castle? No, he would have signaled his security team, or forced a confrontation by now. Or can he see the Scales and is just moving opposite me while he determines what threat I am? Is he trying to see my own thoughts? He considered, the cogs in his back and chest clicking rapidly with fear.
-
Upstairs, Maximillion J. Pegasus was snoring like a chainsaw, fluffy pink eyemask over both eyes, one foot dangling off the bed.
-
Truly, he is a cunning strategist, as well as an adept Item-user. I must be careful, and not lose my head. He nodded, breathing deeply and steadying himself.
He opened his eyes and examined the room he was in. It seemed to be a dining hall, with a grand table and only one place setting at one end, and behind him, another magnificent portrait on the wall over his head.
Cecelia M. Pegasus
Eternally Beloved
1954-1985
The woman in the portrait was stunningly beautiful, even by Shadi’s own Admittedly Vintage standards- She had long, elegant arms and legs, a charmingly genuine smile and long golden hair. Something about the delicacy of her skin suggested that, even though this was clearly a portrait painted through the rosy lens of Love and Time, she had been quite ill. A golden wedding band glittered on her hand as brightly as the eye had in Maximillion’s portrait.
He stood before the portrait of Cecelia, feeling… something. Loss? It wasn’t his burden to grieve, but this portrait was the clearest thing he’d seen so far that had been made by Maximillion’s hand.
1985? The card game that so closely mimics the shadow games came out the following year, right? Had she been Maximillion’s wife? Did he come upon The Eye after her death, already lost in the depthsof despair? Even when they don’t have vengeful ghosts shoved into them, The Items have a will of their own. He may not be possessed by the Thief, but he may still be a prisoner in his own mind. He considered, an unpleasantly sobering thought.
He looked to the other side of the French doors he’d come through, and noticed there was another portrait on the other side of the door, facing the single place setting. Someone else then, of equal importance to Pegasus, if he positions the portrait to dine with him along with his deceased wife? He wondered as he strode over to examine it.
To his horror, the face was intimately familiar.
Shadi Shin
Giver of Gifts and Curses
1985
He stared at the portrait in horror, frantically trying to remember what he was doing in 1985. Was that when the Ishtar Child had activated the Millennium Rod? No, that was ‘93. Oh! The rabies vaccine! No, that was 1885. sh*t! The years swirled around him, disordered and fragmented, the half of the cube sitting where his heart should be pinging with distress.
“MAXIMILLION!” he roared, opting for the direct route. “COME OUT AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF THIS INSTANT!”
*
“Do another, do another!” Funbert W. Bunbert drummed his gloved hands on the table excitedly. Funny Bunny and Kemo had made it down to Maximillion’s Wine Cellar in search of a drink and a laugh. They were having an excellent time enjoying his collection, and an even more excellent time enjoying the idiotically pretentious descriptions on the labels.
Kemo, face flushed with both laughter and entirely too much Cabernet, pulled another bottle off the rack, reading the label and giggling. He cleared his throat and put on his best satirical sommelier voice.
“ -The nose is decadent but not overdone with plum liqueur, Christmas cake, cedar, Chinese spices, licorice, tea leaves, tar and hot stones. Full and very dense with mouth-coating tannins but also attractive fresh fruit, pretty acidity and a long finish. Rather chewy and needs time- ” He got before stopping and snorting with laughter. “CHEWY?” He shouted, the spectral rabbit rolling on the floor, kicking his feet furiously. “Maybe a little too much f*cking TAR in there buddy!”
“Plum Liqueur? Christmas Cake? CEDAR? Is this a wine or a Christmas party at your grandma’s house?” Funbert hiccuped, wiping tears from his flat blue eyes.
“Don’t be talking sh*t about Abuela’s Christmas Cake.” Kemo wagged a finger at the rabbit, putting the bottle back and looking for another to refill their glasses. He’d been frightened, he’d admit, when Pegasus’ creepy plushie suddenly went all Velveteen Rabbit on him and turned into a man-sized lapine menace. But several bottles of liquid courage later, Kemo was feeling much more at ease, and Funbert had shrunk from 6-foot Pooka to something about waist-height to Kemo, and animated like those old Saturday morning cartoons the networks would air when they lost broadcast rights to more contemporary shows. He was flat, but moved with an incredibly smooth and exaggerated plasticity, back to his usual white fur and red overalls, and now a charming little bowtie. Much more agreeable than the creepy Seto lookalike. Or the giant man-eating dog. Or whatever Weber was whining about on the radio now, something about a Hippo. He didn’t care about this job anymore, but he did care about his Grandmother’s Honor. “Abuela’s Christmas cake could blow your ears clean off!”
“Ooh! A Challenge!” Funbert grinned. “Let’s try a Riesling-” he said, arm stretching to reach the higher racks and selecting a bottle. “Hm… Oh no. OH NO.” he shrieked with glee.
“What? What?” Kemo gleefully goaded him on.
The rabbit straightened up, cleared his throat and read. “ Fresh aromas of mirabelle, nectarine, tangerine, minty herbs and crushed stone. Quite dry, juicy and elegant, featuring stone fruit and mineral flavors sexed up by a flinty nuance on the end-”
“Did. Did they f*ck the wine?” Kemo demanded, bewildered, and Funbert nearly dropped the bottle laughing.
“Wait wait wait it gets worse-” Funbert wheezed. “ Still a bit youthfully tight, this wine forgoes the benefits of proper aging-”
“THEY f*ckED THE WINE AND IT ISN’T EVEN LEGAL YET?” Kemo bellowed. “That’s it, I’m sticking to Vodka from now on.” he groaned, slowly faceplanting into the table.
“Yeah, I think that label put me off wine for a bit too. We don’t even have Hors d'oeuvres to go with it!” Funbert groaned, setting the bottle aside.
Kemo’s head snapped up at the mention of food. “OH MY GOD. I COULD KILL FOR BREAKFAST.”
“I think it’s more effective if you cook something, but we’ll keep that option open.” Nodded Funbert, picking up a few of the less-offensive bottles they’d tried up and opening the door to the halls beneath the castle.
He blinked in surprise a few times at the two beings standing in the doorway, and at what they were holding. “Well how about that? Hors d'oeuvres!” he grinned, pointing at the large basket of cheeses, fruits, crackers and other snacks held by the stranger.
“Eh, sorry to intrude, we were trying to celebrate anniversary with romantic picnic and thought some wine would go with the cheese…” Said the small Russian man, leaning in the doorway and peering around the room.
“Well, take your pick-” Funbert waved the bottle around the room to indicate the strange man and the enormous pile of winter clothing that might or might not contain a person behind him should partake. “-can’t speak for all of it though, I think someone put their dick in this Riesling.” he frowned at the botte in his hand.
“Ah! So that’s why white wine tastes like gargling testicl*s!” he nodded, stepping inside. “I am Sergei, this is my partner Misha.” he offered the rabbit a hand.
“Funbert W. Bunbert, at your service!” the rabbit beamed, taking his hand and shaking vigorously. “My friend here is Kemo Kemo Cantor.”
“It’s just the one Kemo, but I stuttered and he loves Doing A Bit.” Kemo shrugged. “Uh… Who are you and what are you doing here? Not that I give a sh*t, but if the castle is about to be on fire, I’d like to head for the exit.”
“I do not think it will come to that- ooh, Shiraz!- but we are Professional Saboteurs .” Sergei nodded, picking a bottle off the racks. Behind him, Funbert was distracted from the conversation as he and Misha seemed to be having some sort of staring contest and or telepathic battle that ended with a baffled shrug from Funbert and an amused grunt from Misha. “-But we are here because I promised my Weed Dealer’s Mechanic’s Client’s Brother’s Nephew-in-Law I’d pick some friends of his up from the Island after tournament because the Nephew-in-Law stole the boat that brought them here or something.”
“Wait, you know who stole the boat? Because whoever they are, they’re a dead bitch if Pegasus ever finds them. He’s got a f*cked up magic eyeball that shoots lasers and summons ghosts.”
“Unless he can shoot laser to other side of globe, I wouldn’t worry.” Sergi shrugged, examining the Rosé selection. “Much more concerned about orbital strike from capitalist satellites.” he nodded, pulling out a bottle and adding it to the picnic basket.
“You seem to know everybody that’s been out for Pegasus’ blood.” Kemo arched an eyebrow at Sergei.
“-Yeeeeah.” Funburt glared at the two of them. “You wouldn’t happen to have any nefarious plans regarding My Good Friend Max, would you?”
“We have no specific plans to engage with Maximillion J. Pegasus.” Segei said, and Misha put a large gloved hand over his heart, holding the other up with his palm out. “Scout’s Honor’ is expression I think.”
“Funbert. Funny Bunny. Humorous Hare. My Guy.” Kemo said, waving the rabbit closer and putting his arm around Funbert’s shoulder. “-I uh. Look. You seem like a nice guy. But Pegasus… might’ve lost the plot. Been up to some real shady sh*t. Kidnapping. Possibly murder. Definitely summoning ghosts. I’d keep your distance from him before he turns you into Baked Coney or something.”
Funbert sputtered with horror. “I- He knows what he’s doing Kemo!”
Kemo stared at the rabbit over his sunglasses. “Okay, but that’s worse . You understand how that’s worse right?”
Funbert rolled his eyes so hard they briefly popped out of their sockets with a comical ‘Bwoop’ sort of noise, before patting Kemo’s arm. “Look, I wouldn’t expect a bunch of Philistines to understand-”
“I’m Mexican, not Filipino.” Kemo interrupted.
“-AS I WAS SAYING, I don’t expect… we’re not callin’ ‘em mortal anymore, right Misha? What’s the term now? Monodimensional? No that ain’t right, because then they’d be dots.”
Misha gestured evocatively and there was a sound like creaking wood from him.
“Well I suppose if this was Animated it’d be three dimensions, but this is wri-” Funbert objected before Misha continued, gesturing to indicate layers of something and something else on the ceiling.
“Oh. Well. I suppose that’s three dimensions?” Funbert considered, before turning back to Kemo.
“Anyway- Look, I don’t expect 3-D people like you to understand, but lemme try anyway-” Funbert sighed, speaking slowly to Kemo as though he were trying to explain something to a toddler. “Misha and I we’re. Well, if you’re 3-D, we’s guys are 4-D. And to people like us, Death’s a temporary thing. Which is great! And it sucks that Death’s a forever thing for you 3-D guys, especially because sometimes you guys get stuck halfway and that’s particularly awful- so’s I thought! Hey! Why not have EVERYONE be like me? Then nobody would ever have to die! So I started lookin’ for someone to share my vision and Max was the only guy that really Got It, you know? It’s The Eye, lets him see what I see!
“So things are a little weird and scary right now, but it’s like- it looks crazy because right now you’re the audience, not the magician. But trust me- Everyone will be okay in the end. Even Cecelia and that Seto punk and Mortality-Obsessed Mutt-” Funbert stopped suddenly, ears twitching. “You hear that?”
Misha nodded, facemask twitching as he snuffed the air. Funbert ran to the front door of the Wine Cellar, which opened to a hall that led to the dining room, and Misha peered out the rear door he and Sergei had come through, which opened to a hall that led to the Kitchens.
“Just curious, but is Tall, Dark and Heavily Armed headed down the hall on your side too?” Funbert glared at the man approaching with a golden Ankh extended before him, radiating magical energy, which was almost as much a problem as the automatic he had on his shoulder.
Misha grunted something that could have been “да” as he glared at the man approaching with the golden Scales that radiated magical energy, which was almost as much a problem as the ancient sword he held.
“Misha? Darling?” Sergei asked. “Is picnic getting canceled again?”
Misha replied by closing and bolting the door on his side, and Funbert by closing the door and piling all the furniture in the room that wasn’t bolted down in front of his door. “Locks won’t stop that asshole, but the furniture might buy us a second.” Funbert shrugged.
“What’s going on?” Asked Kemo, nowhere near sober enough for this.
“Fun Police.” Said Funbert. “I gotta warn Max, and you guys need to get outta here-” He said, pulling Kemo to his feet.
“-You just barricaded both doors in and out of here, dipsh*t.” Grunted Kemo.
“Don’t worry! I’ve got A Hole In My Pocket!” Funny Bunny winked. He reached into his overalls, plunging his arm in up to his shoulder, far deeper than the pocket could be, before pulling out a small black object about the size of a Quarter, and flipping it in the air like a coin. Funbert caught it on the way down, dug his fingers into the black object and pulled it, the object stretching like taffy until it was about four feet wide in all directions. Funbert threw it on the floor with an uncomfortably wet and rubbery Slap! And Kemo finally saw what it was.
A Hole.
A Man-sized hole, in the floor, brickwork bending down into it where there had not been a hole four seconds prior.
“What the fuuUUUAAAAAH!” Kemo Screamed as Funbert Unceremoniously kicked his ass, sending him tumbling down the hole.
“After you!” Funbert gestured to Sergei and Misha.
Sergei looked up at his companion, who chuffed suspiciously at Funbert. Behind him, the bolt jiggled on the front door.
“Unless YOU know how to close The Hole back up after us, I need to go last or they’ll just follow us!” Funbert hissed. “Hold onto my foot for good luck if it will make you feel better!”
Misha nodded, picked up Sergei and bundled him under one arm, and grabbed Funbert’s ankle, before jumping into The Hole after Kemo. Funny Bunny stretched as he was pulled in with them, arm looking less like a rabbit’s paw and more like a rubber hose as he reached back, grabbed the edge of the hole after him, and pulled it into itself, brickwork rearranging itself back into a Perfectly Normal Floor after them.
There was exactly half a second of silence.
Then the rear door opened out into the hall and the haphazard pile of furniture that had been leaning on it creaked ominously.
“Oh no.” sighed Shadi, Millennium Key in hand. “Not Again.”
Then there was a thunderous crash as the pile of furniture toppled over into him, burying the man in an enormous pile of splintered wood, broken glass and Pinot Grigio.
Moments later, Shadi got the lock open and burst into the room, Scales aloft. “MAXIMILLION!” he bellowed to the empty room. He glared at the pile of broken furniture. “He must have tried to barricade his escape! I must find Pegasus and get some answers.” He snarled, quickly climbing the mess and bounding down the hall after his nemesis.
A moment after that, Shadi finally extracted himself from the remains of the wine rack, glaring down the hall in the direction he’d heard someone else run in, apparently also after Pegasus.
“Who could that be?” he wondered, about to follow when the Millennium Key chimed at him. Carefully, he picked his way over the broken bottles and wood, and into the wine Cellar, which looked like it had been the scene of a small Bacchanalia. The Key tugged at the floor, insisting there was some sort of secret door, but no method of scrying he carried, no illusion-breaking amulet or even stomping on the bricks revealed it.
“Curiouser and Curiouser.” Shadi muttered, glaring at the floor, before turning and opening the other door to the cellar, which looked like it had had its lock forced from the outside. “I must find Pegasus and get some answers.”
*
Explain. The Vixen growled.
It had taken her a while to find The Venerable One, who was looking less Divine Canine and more like the God of Hangovers. He had shrunk from his previous majestic scale to something even more pathetically tiny than she was, tucked under a bush, groaning, eyes squeezed shut and front paws over his face against the pain of the morning light.
What is it you wish to know, My Darling? Anubis tried, lifting his head and trying to smile seductively at her but instead only managing to look squeamish.
She swiped her paw across his face hard enough to slap the stupid grin off . Look at you, I’ve seen purse Chihuahuas with more meat on them! She barked. What the HELL is going on? You keep blinking in and out and changing sizes, the Humans are acting outright Bizarre, Mating season is RUINED, there’s some awful giant rabbit with a grudge on you, and some kind of horrible tusked beast- She continued, teeth an inch from his face as be cowered from her, ears pressed flat against his head and tail between his legs.
Well- I told you, I’m here to manage some magical nonsense with the Humans, and it’s making them a wee bit mad, not unlike mating hormones really- Okay! Okay! He flinched as she snapped with intent to neuter him. I’m here dealing with Human Bullsh*t (™) and frankly, it’s Exhausting just being here, and not on my native plane and frankly, I need A Nap before I can deal with the situation with the- He faltered, the rest of her words catching up with him. -I’m sorry, run that last bit by me again?
Horrible Tusked Beast? Size of the vehicles with guns on them they used to drive around here? She glared. A Friend of yours perhaps?
No, that sounds like a Chupacabra. He shook his head, ears flopping. The bit before that? Something about a Rabbit?
Apparently The Asshole Human up in the castle has a Magical Rabbit with some grudge against you? Just what did you bring here? She snarled.
Anubis sat up all the way, ears upright, glaring up at the castle. Ohhhhhh, so THAT’S why you think you can skip out on our contract Maximillion? Made a new friend have you ? He bristled, less like a dog and more like ferrofluid in a sonic chamber, the motion enough to make The Old Vixen step back with concern.
Do Not Worry, My Good Bitch. Anubis growled, growing in size and slavering a bit, strings of hungry drool dripping from slightly too many teeth for his mouth. I’ll see to that lapine loser. Tell your kits there’s going to be roast rabbit on the menu tonight. He snarled before charging off up the hill, not caring if he was seen or if the wretched creature heard him coming, only the burning fury of betrayal and-
-He collapsed, scarcely a quarter of a mile up the hill. And the wobbliness of being a temporal creature on the material plane.
Alright. He groaned, finding a new bush to crawl under and covering his face again. Rabbit Stew AFTER Ra has had his little sky parade. He promised, whining a bit as he shrunk again, pathetic little legs so short he wasn’t sure he could even take the stairs up to the castle. … Maybe I can find someone to carry me.
*
Joey was the first awake, squinting around the tent, wondering where his bike was.
“Oh right.” He realized, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “No paper route today.”
On one side, the lovely Mai Valentine was lightly snoring, mouth open and slightly drooling on her pillow. In the rosy tint of the dawn and Joey’s romantic glasses, she looked flawless and radiant, like that one Greek statue that was in art all the time, but with arms.
There was a soft noise on his other side as Bakura twitched, humming softly and eyes moving under his borderline-translucent eyelids. Joey was about to shake him out of his nightmare when Bakura laughed quietly and nuzzled into Tristan’s chest more. “Ah, you’re fine.” He shrugged.
“Mng?” Mai grunted, stirring awake. “Whad time izzit?”
“It’s uh-” He checked his watch. “5:04.”
“f*ck, already?” Seto Kaiba whined.
Seto? Joey frowned, before sitting up some more.
Indeed, the thing he’d somehow mentally written off as ‘A pile of fishing gear or maybe the tent caving in' in his half-awake haze was, in fact, their billionaire classmate that had sort of tried to murder them last month and was now, apparently, their friend. Seto didn’t actually quite fit in the tent, and had been sleeping with knees bent like he’d been trying to do sit-ups and given up. The arm not trapped under Yugi was flung dramatically over his face for darkness. Yugi, in an incredible demonstration of his Prowess as a Human Plushie, had cuddled right up under the chin and sort of across the chest of his self-declared nemesis, and was sleeping soundly with Seto’s other arm wrapped across his shoulders.
“Aw, it’s a f*ckin’ Kodak moment. We shoulda brought a camera.” Joey laughed.
Seto moved his arm just enough to glare at Joey with a single furious cerulean eye, but made no effort to extricate himself from Yugi’s care-bear death grip.
“Téa’s bag, outside left pocket.” Grunted Tristan, not entirely conscious yet.
“Don’t you f*cking dare-” Seto growled at Joey, looking in entirely the wrong direction as Téa sat up, pulled the disposable camera out of her bag, and snapped a probably off-angle and blurry pic but the flash had the intended effect of agitating Seto. Pleased, she shoved the camera back in her bag, and forcibly dove under the blankets and snuggled up to Yugi again.
“Oh, f*ck me…” He groaned, covering his face with his arm again.
“I think we packed literally everything but condoms.” grinned Joey, reaching over Tristan and Bakura to affectionately slap Seto’s thigh. “Go back to bed though, it’ll take me a while to get the fire and coffee going.” he grunted, fishing his jeans out from where he’d been using them as a pillow and tugging them on in the cramped tent.
“Don’t look at me until I put my face on.” warned Mai, pulling her braid in front of her face.
“Yes ‘m.” Joey nodded, pulling on and zipping up his jacket, looking for his shoes. “How many eggs you want? I do a pretty decent omelet.”
Mai was silent as he pulled his shoes on, before sitting up and glaring at him. “Eggs?”
“Yeah. Breakfast’s most important meal of the day.”
“...You were in a straight-up shootout yesterday. How the hell do you have intact eggs?” she glared.
“I also got bacon and pancakes.” He grinned, getting up and pulling out a bag of food and one of the water jugs from his backpack. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Outside, the sun hadn’t quite come up yet, Joey’s breath fogging around him like a steam engine as he grabbed more wood and tinder for the fire and got it started. Then it was time for a little modern culinary trickery.
“Powdered” was a word that got a lot of hate when applied to food, but was, in Joey’s opinion, one of the greatest technological advancements of the century. Powdered foods could be measured precisely, kept forever, used perfectly every time if you understood what they did, and were a hell of a lot more transportable in an emergency. From the food bag, he pulled out several bags- the pancake mix, the heavily cured bacon Tristan’s Brother-In-Law had introduced Joey to, and the powdered eggs.
The secret to the perfect omelet was 2 parts water to one part powdered egg, plus one teaspoon each powdered milk and water again per every tablespoon of egg plus salt and garlic, why would you make anything without garlic?? Which was a completely insane way to measure the recipe but he got it right every time and math was overrated anyway. He threw the bacon into the cold pan to cook while he measured out the eggs, because the low initial heat would keep it from burning or curling, and then he could cook the eggs in the rendered fat.
Powdered coffee was a blessing too. Joey was able to dump it directly into the carafe with the water and set it on the far, hotter side of the fire.
“Y’all better bring me something, no such thing as a free lunch. Or breakfast.” He glared at the dozen or so foxes that had gathered at the edge of the campsite, slavering at the scent of cooking bacon.
“Are those… cats?”
Joey turned to see someone leaning over him at a sharp angle, squinting at the foxes with bleary, heavily bagged eyes, hair sticking out at odd angles and long coat pulled tight around him, collar pulled up against the wind coming off the ocean.
“MOTHERf*ckER!” shouted Joey, nearly jumping out of his skin before he realized that the ill-rested spectre was in fact, Seto, and not the grim reaper’s unpaid intern. “Don’t sneak up on people! What if I’d been holding a knife, huh?”
Seto blinked slowly at him, uncomprehending.
“Siddown and have some coffee.” Joey rolled his eyes.
Seto sat down on the log in a series of complicated motions that sent Joey rummaging through the food bag for a spare bottle of painkillers.
“Here.” Joey handed him a mug of black coffee and two ibuprofen. “Eggs’ll be up in a minute, evaporated milk and sugar are right here.” he set the two small jars beside Seto, then pointedly turned his back so Seto could make his coffee in peace instead of drinking it black to front on him.
“...Why are you giving me drugs?” Seto glared at the pills in his hand.
“Your joints are stiffer than Gramp’s when a thunderstorm is coming in.” Joey shrugged, pulling the bacon out of the pan and pouring in the first of the omelets, swirling the hot pan to get the right shape. “Guess growing like a tree must’ve f*cked your joints over, huh?”
Seto didn’t reply, but Joey heard the loud gulp of him swallowing the medication over his shoulder.
“You looked like you were dreaming B.” Said Tristan, climbing out of the Tent after Bakura.
“Hm?” Bakura yawned. “Oh, yes! It was a lovely dream! It’s been a while since I’ve had anything but nightmares.”
“What about?” Tristan asked, stepping over the log and retrieving the coffee carafe from Seto, who was still staring groggily at the foxes.
“...You had to ask me that.” Groaned Bakura as the memories of the dream vanished like one’s car keys right before an urgent appointment. “I think it was about… tit*?”
“NICE.” Laughed Tristan, who sauntered over and accepted the hug Joey was already offering him out of habit, slapping him on the back twice before taking a plate of eggs and bacon as well. Bakura hung back, still not quite used to Joey’s typical greeting, until Joey hopped over the log after him, wrapping both arms around Bakura and ruffling his hair before taking only half a step back and cupping his face, searching it for injury.
“Seriously Bakura, you okay? All that can’t have been good for you.” he asked.
“I-I’m fine now.” Bakura laughed a bit, hand on Joey’s. “Which is a bit odd really, I ought to be covered in bruises and cuts from last night…” He muttered.
“I know I’m a big scaredy cat when it comes to ghosts and monsters and stuff, you- you gotta promise- TELL ME if you even think something’s happening, okay?” Joey sighed, lightly thumping his forehead against Bakura’s.
“I will, I promise.” Bakura smiled a bit and leaned into Joey’s shoulder for a moment.
“Oh sh*t the eggs!” Joey hissed, letting go and returning his attention to the fire.
“No seriously what are those?” Glared Seto, co*cking his head at one of the Foxes that was stalking up to his boot in a show of uncharacteristic boldness.
“Adorable little rabies vectors, that’s what.” Growled Tristan, kicking dirt at the fox.
There was a loud wheeze from the tent, distracting Seto from the foxes.
“Yuge’s got asthma, so he’s got a daily inhaler. Does that every morning, he’s fine.” Joey said, handing Seto a plate with some eggs and Bacon before he could articulate his question.
“Oh.” Seto blinked groggily down at the plate.
Yugi emerged shortly thereafter, leaning affectionately into Téa’s side. Joey sat up a bit from the next round of eggs, squinting. Ah yeah, it’s Yugi. Only comes up to her ribcage.
“AAAAAY it’s my man, come eat something!” he called. Yugi got a full hug and Téa an affectionate shoulder-check. Yugi set about breakfast with enthusiasm as Mai finally appeared, looking perfectly coiffed, if somewhat ill-rested.
“Is that coffee?” She squinted. “Oh my god. Actual eggs and bacon. You’re a wizard!” She laughed as he handed her a plate as well.
“Pancakes in a minute. You okay there Seto?” he asked their newest friend, who was scowling at the world around him with an intense-even-for-5AM hatred.
“I’m fine.” he grunted reflexively, looking like he was trying to evolve laser eyebeams to shoot at the foxes.
“...Do you have contacts you’re supposed to be wearing?” Yugi asked around a mouthful of egg.
“...That would explain why everything is so blurry.” Seto groaned, getting up and stalking back to the tent.
“Here-” Joey handed Yugi another plate of breakfast.
“Joey, you know I can’t eat Serenity-portions.” Yugi laughed.
“Yeah, but you’re eating for two now. This is for the other guy.” he explained, waving the plate at Yugi encouragingly.
“...Joey, I’m haunted, not pregnant.” Yugi sighed and Téa nearly snorted a piece of bacon out of her nose.
“Yeah, well-” Joey huffed, “-Just because Yami is a- a whatever he is, doesn’t mean he should skip breakfast.”
“Its a rare ghost that needs to eat Joey.” Said Bakura, drinking his fourth cup of creamer-and-sugar-with-a-bit-of-coffee- dude had the diet of a hummingbird, seriously.
“He’s Notta Ghost.” Muttered Joey.
“Really?” asked Yami, amused. “If not, then what am I?”
“Hey man-” Joey sat up to hug Yami as well, who returned the gesture, leaning into Joey’s shoulder for a moment. “I dunno, Tristan’s the one with the Encyclopedia for a brain. But you’re not a Ghost, because ghosts are mean and scary.”
Yami gave him a strange, sad look. “Any harmlessness you perceive may be a recent development, I’m afraid.” he sighed.
“Pfft, you’re still five nothing, I could pick you up by the scruff like a kitten if I needed to.” Joey shrugged. “Eat.”
“You too, Gordon Ramsay.” Mai said, lighty kicking him in the butt. “You’ve served everyone but yourself.”
“Yes ‘m.” Joey nodded, finally sitting down to eat. There was a few moments of quiet as everyone ate, the morning chorus of birds rising to greet the sun. It was beautiful here, all picturesque landscape in the warm light of dawn, the sea glittering in the distance. Yami finished eating, and turned to face the rising sun, eyes closed, humming quietly. Téa quietly put her arm around him, and he leaned into her shoulder, sighing.
“You alright?” She asked, pulling him closer.
“Memories. Or rather. Holes where they should be.” He sighed. “There’s something I’m supposed to- Prayer. But I can’t remember the words. I can’t- I know there’s loved ones I’ve lost, but it’s hard to miss what I can’t remember. But these- stubs, these broken edges, they’re what-”
“What ARE you?” Seto demanded from the tent. Yami startled, scrambling to find an answer, only to find Seto glaring down at one of the foxes.
“Seriously they’re in focus now and I know even less.” he grumbled, returning to the log and his breakfast.
“They’re foxes.” Said Tristan.
“...but foxes are Orange?” Seto glared at him.
“Red Foxes or Vulpes vulpes are prototypically Orange or ‘red’ as in Red-Head, Which I just realized now is a color you can’t actually see- no wait, protanopia, Gray looks like Sad Blue and Orange looks like Dark Piss, so technically you can- Anyway, Red foxes can also come in Silver, black and blonde. There are like 30 species of fox, and these are Channel Island Foxes, related to mainland Gray Foxes. Which is why they’re mostly gray.” Tristan rattled off.
Seto considered this and the small animal currently rolling around his boots adorably, begging for bacon. “Why do you know that?”
“My family’s in Pest Control and Exorcisms, stuff rubs off.” Tristan shrugged. “Seriously though, do NOT feed that thing, it doesn’t have the kidneys to process that much salt and if it gets too acclimated to humans Park Service might have to put it down so it doesn’t spread Lyme or rabies."
“...Huh.” Said Seto, lightly bumping the fox with his boot, they way one might attempt to move an over-affectionate cat determined to stay underfoot. The fox looked positively scandalized by this, chattering to indicate that Seto ought to face ten millennia of imprisonment for such an offense.
“I got the laptop set up if anyone needs to check their Email.” called Mai.
Seto waved to indicate he didn’t need it. “The connection is working on mine now that it’s got a charge again.”
“-And?” Mai asked.
“Mokuba is in the topiary gardens next to Pegasus’ castle, as Keith indicated he would be. No other cell tags are near him, so Pegasus hasn’t found him yet.” He nodded.
“-And your little takeover?” Mai elaborated, handing the computer off to Yugi who thanked her quietly for it.
“Ms. Rhodes appears to be handling things admirably. There’s no change in Industrial Illusions stock Price yet, but there’s not supposed to be until Monday.” he nodded.
“Hm. Grandpa’s not answering a videocall.” Yugi frowned.
“He’s probably still asleep.” Joey shrugged. “Watch the fire for me, I need to go take a whiz.”
“Ew?” Muttered Téa, taking over fire duty for him.
“Can he sleep, the way he is?” asked Yugi.
“Possibly?” Shrugged Bakura. “More likely he’s away committing cyber-crime.”
“I’ll send him an email for whenever he gets back.” Yugi sighed, wincing as he tried to type with both hands, until Mai reached down and cuffed his ear.
“Don’t strain your arm, you still have to duel me and if you keep that up, you won’t be able to hold your cards.” She chided him.
“Yes m’.” Yugi sighed, resorting to hunting and pecking and letting his broken arm rest.
“Can I have it when he’s done?” Asked Tristan. Mai nodded, on her second cup of coffee.
“Pancakes if anyone wants them.” Téa offered as Yugi finished the email and handed the computer off to Tristan.
Oh! I like these! Yami perked up.
You can take over to eat if you want. I’m still pretty pokey and having you in control is like getting to sleep in. Yugi offered.
“Oh, sh*t.” muttered Tristan.
“What?” growled Mai.
“Ohhhhh I’m a f*ckin’ dead man.” Tristan whimpered, flinching back from something on the screen.
“What’s wrong?” Bakura peered over his shoulder.
“I, uh… I thought my parents wouldn’t notice I was gone this weekend because my Dad’s at a conference and my mom was back in the hospital- Okay that sounds way worse than it is.” Tristan groaned as the gang turned to glare at him.
“Mom… Mom and Dad used to be a lot more ‘Hands On’ pest control but Mom got attacked on a job and then she got really, really sick, so she’s basically housebound now. The disease itself is bad enough, but the real problem is that it’s given her like. Really, really bad anxiety and Agoraphobia. Recently she’s been able to stay in a nursing home attached to the hospital for a few days at a time if we can’t watch her and so she can go to therapy and that’s actually a really big step forward for her? So like, it’s GOOD she’s in the hospital, really.” he waved his hands, trying to explain.
“One of the big things is she can’t stand it if I go too far from home or I go somewhere without scheduling it or she can’t get ahold of me, so I figured if she was in the Hospital this weekend, she’d be too busy with therapy to notice I’m gone, but APPARENTLY she came home early last night and I wasn’t at home like she expected and she’s having a huge meltdown and my sister’s there but she’s gonna f*cking SKIN me for ‘running off without telling’ and- oh hell, Dad’s coming home early because of this.” he winced. “I’m gonna be grounded until I’m 18 and they’ll probably try to keep me longer.” He sighed.
“Oh no.” winced Mai. “Getting caught’s bad, but getting caught when it’s not even your fault? Cripes.”
“Will it help if I come along to explain it’s my fault?” Yugi asked.
“It might’ve if things had gone as planned and I got home before Mom. Dad’s kind of an ass but he respects loyalty, you know? But with Mom freaking out like this I think even trying to explain myself is gonna make it worse.” He groaned. “I’m gonna tell Izzie I’m fine and I’ll be back on Monday, so she knows I’m alive at least?”
“I mean, fine for a given value of fine.” Téa shrugged.
Seto watched the group with a strange expression, watching as they tried to compose the most not-making-it-worse-even-if-there’s-no-way-to-not-make-it-worse email possible, before looking up at the treeline.
“Does Wheeler have bladder problems?” he asked, frowning.
“What?” glared Téa.
“He’s been gone for a long time for a piss.” Seto shrugged.
The group froze.
“I swear, if it’s that f*cking Clown again-” Hissed Téa.
*
“Yeah this should be far enough…” Joey muttered- for as difficult to navigate as the Oak Scrub was, it didn’t actually provide much visual cover and he’d never recover if Mai saw his- well, he wanted her to see it eventually but under more… Favorable circ*mstances. Somewhere warmer. With better lighting. And not doing this-
He almost sighed with relief, but there was a furious growling and screeching and he jumped back in terror of having his dick raccooned, but instead a small black dog bolted out from under the bush, soaking wet and looking thoroughly scandalized.
“GODDAMNIT YOU ALMOST MADE ME PISS ALL OVER MY SHOES YOU MUTT!” Joey shouted, flipping the animal off.
It made a noise like a trash compactor back at him, fur bristling and bright yellow eyes narrowing in rage.
“Yeah, it’s not my fault you decided to kip under what’s functionally a public toilet.” Joey huffed. “Blame Pegasus if you have to, he’s the one that invited a ton of people here and didn’t put any toilets in first.”
The dog glared some more, but it looked worse for the wear and it decided to skulk off into the scrub instead of pressing the issue further.
“Man, camping without Serenity or the SCA Crowd sucks…” He muttered, resuming his attempts to relieve himself.
There was a rustling in the bushes behind him.
“If you’re looking for a fight, don’t think I won’t piss on you again.” Joey threatened.
“Uh.” Said a distinctly human voice behind him.
“What?” Joey looked over his shoulder to see two boys about his age. One looked like he’d fallen out of a vintage Mod Fashion catalogue, and the other was roughly the size of a truck, wearing a shirt that read “EVERYBODY READS!” and ‘San Fransokyo Public Library Read-A-Thon 1997” under it in small print, implying he’d competed in the elementary-school competition last year. “Oh sh*t sorry I thought you were a dog that was fronting on me a minute ago. I’m not gonna pee on you.”
“Thank you?” Said Read-A-Thon.
“Are you afraid of ghosts?” asked Mod Squad.
“...Yeah?” Joey Shrugged.
“Great! We’re kidnapping you!” Mod Squad grinned menacingly, flicking out a switchblade, and Read-A-Thon cracked his knuckles.
“...Can I finish pissing first?” Joey asked. “ ‘cuz like. I get the idea you’re trying to scare the piss outta me, but for sanitary reasons I think we should work together on this.”
Mod Squad and Read-A-Thon looked at each other.
“Uh. Yeah. You should do that.” Nodded Read-A-Thon.
“Great, gimme a minute.”
There was a minute of excruciatingly awkward near-silence.
Then a minute more.
“Sorry guys I just got up and had like three cups of coffee-” Joey said, trying to figure out if he could outrun both these assholes and make it back to camp, or if he should even risk it with Yugi and Mai having been through the wringer and Téa still out for blood.
“Just shut up and shake alright?” Mod Squad snarled, knifepoint at Joey’s Kidneys.
“Yeah, yeah, okay.” He rolled his eyes, finishing up and zipping up his pants. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned around-
“Nuh-uh, hands where we can see ‘em!” Snapped Read-A-Thon.
“Alright! Jeez-” Joey pulled his hands back out, holding them over his head, picture of Serenity tucked into his sleeve. This better f*ckin’ work… he glared as he followed Read-A-Thon, Mod Squad behind him with the knife at his back.
They didn’t go far before they came to a cliff with a dynamited-out hole and iron door set in it. Oh! It’s the entrance to the bunkers Tristan was looking for! They’ll look over here, but might be reluctant to enter if they think they have to look for me, so-
He sneezed loudly and convincingly, reflexively covering his face, making both of the new assholes jump.
“Sorry boys. Must be allergic to somethin’.” he laughed as the wallet-sized picture of Serenity floated to the ground at the entrance to the tunnel, unnoticed.
See ya soon Sis. He pleaded silently as they stepped into the darkness of the bunker. Luck don’t run out on me now…
*
“Joey? JOEY!” Yugi called, standing on his toes to try to see into the oak scrub, but it wasn’t doing much.
“JOSEPH!” Téa called, having run farther into the forest to look for him. “DON’T MAKE ME USE YOUR MIDDLE NAME IN FRONT OF SETO!”
“sh*t!” Yelled Tristan even farther in, but he returned to the edge of the scrub by the camp. “I went up the trail where the entrance to the Bunkers is- I found this.” he panted, holding up the picture of Serentity.
“Who’s that?” Seto glared, feeling like he’d started a book in the middle and missed out on the establishing elements of the plot.
“Joey’s sister, Serenity. This is the only picture he has of her, he wouldn’t lose it unless it was taken from him.” Yugi explained.
“Actually, I think he dropped it on purpose.” Tristan said, standing back up again. “We learned it in scouts- never leave the trail, but if you have to, leave a personal item and draw an arrow in the dirt if you have to take a turn. If he was kidnapped, he wouldn’t be able to leave the arrow, but he’d know to leave this to mean he was forced into the Bunker.”
“That’s a hell of a leap, you’re sure he didn’t get mugged for it?” Mai worried.
“If he did, he got mugged right in front of the Bunker and dragged in. There’s fresh drag marks where the door was opened this morning- the dew is disturbed there but not nearby, so it was opened and closed in the last hour.” Tristan panted. “He’s in there, trust me.”
“Well, at least that’s the route we were planning on taking?” Shrugged Bakura. “But who kidnapped him? Pegasus’ goon squad?”
“That, or rival duelists looking to take his star chips.” Mai frowned. “Hm- no, that doesn’t make sense. Joey has ten star chips, and no reason to duel, and they’d need to log a duel where they won to get into the castle. Unless there’s an arena down there, they won’t be able to pull it off.”
“I don’t think there’s one in there…” Tristan glared at the arena map Pegasus had handed out. “-but even if there is, we still have to go in after Joey.”
“I need to find Mokuba.” Seto snarled, about to add that Wheeler could choke but Yugi’s hand was suddenly holding his, giving him a reassuring squeeze, and Seto abruptly forgot what he was going to say.
“I know, I know-” Yugi soothed. “-Actually. I know splitting the party is a bad idea-”
“I already hate this.” groaned Tristan.
“-but it may work in our favor this time. Mai, you needed time in the castle while Pegasus is distracted to look for that contract- Could you and Seto go ahead, overland? You guys can look for Mokuba and the contract together, or divide Pegasus’ attention- He won’t be able to Duel Seto properly if he’s trying to figure out why Mai is rifling through his stuff, and he can’t chase Mai if Seto is setting the castle on Fire. Either way gets both of you what you want faster, and gives us cover to find Joey before we confront Pegasus.”
“...That’s actually a sound strategy.” Tristan realized. “Mutually beneficial all around, and we know from the Boat Horn that Pegasus is Distractible as hell.”
“I realize I’m asking you to be a frontal assault and take a big risk.” Yugi said, looking up at Seto. “But I think that’s the best strategy for you, and for all of us.”
Seto stared down at him, wondering if he was having some sort of cardiac event, before pulling his hand out of Yugi’s. “Whatever, Nerd. I’m just surprised you came up with something that tactically sound.”
“Uh-huh.” Smirked Yugi. “Mai?”
“As concerned as I am about leaving you babies alone again and coming back to discover you’ve broken even more bones and found another ghost, I’m for it. Just find Joey and bring him back safe, Okay?” She nodded. “And if Seto is the one pulling aggro, I’m perfectly capable of a little Distraction Arson too!” She winked.
“We will, I promise.” Téa nodded, giving Mai a Quick hug.
Mai returned it, before quickly turning on her heel and refusing to look at the group. “Be safe you guys.” She waved, picking up her bag, voice choked like she might be crying.
“We’ll break camp, you two get moving.” Yugi nodded at Seto, grabbing the handle of his briefcase to hand it to him, and nearly jerking his arm out when he tried to lift it. “What the hell is in this thing? Bullion?” He grumbled, rolling his shoulder.
“Two duel disks, change of clothes, toothbrush, satellite laptop.” Seto shrugged. “And Eighty-two point four pounds of Duel monsters cards.” he added, casually lifting it.
“I’d say you make weird packing choices but after free-falling out of a helicopter, I’m just going to assume your judgment is shot.” Mai teased. “See ya tonight, okay kids?”
“Later Nerds.” Seto grunted, already starting down the trail.
“Be safe!” Bakura called after them.
“...That’s almost as much as I weigh.” Yugi muttered, staring after Seto and wondering where he kept his muscles. Actually, he did have pretty nice tit* to sleep on-
Yami snickered.
Shut it. Yugi glared.
The tent was taken down, fire doused and camp packed up with record speed, and soon the gang was at the doors to the underground bunkers.
“Goodness. It’s not even Six AM and we’ve had a kidnapping and to split the party.” Bakura muttered as he watched Téa wrench the heavy iron doors open. “I sure hope-”
“You shut your mouth right now.” Tristan warned, handing him a flashlight. “We don’t need to tempt fate and have someone else throwing gas on this dumpster fire.”
*
Odion felt his personal phone buzz from its hidden location in the false back of his hoodie pocket. He, Marik and their small cohort were at a Bungalow the Ghouls owned, well away from the city lights of Kona, half an hour on a dirt road, so Odion felt comfortable with conducting business on the Lanai, papers spread on the table and satellite laptop open, a window open to watch the tag he’d put on Kaiba Senior’s computer after their phone call. Mousetrap had set off into the underbrush on the hunt for the invasive and irritatingly disruptive Coquí Frog.
Inside, Stephannie had retired from her silent vigil for the afternoon and was lying facedown on the kitchen floor, directly under the ceiling fan.
She wasn’t much for humidity.
Marik sat amiably beside her, explaining a theory he had about the Slime Guardian card he wanted to test out with her in a staged duel where she’d play the cards he told her to to test a specific interaction of cards.
Stephannie, well-deserving of her title of The Quiet One, said Nothing.
Satisfied that Marik would be occupied and out of earshot for a few minutes, Odion slid back in his chair out of Marik’s line of sight, undid the velcro on the secret pocket inside his hoodie, opened the watertight pouch and answered the call.
“Ms. Sugoroku.” He nodded. It wasn’t her real name, he was sure, and there was no point in attempting to trace the call. She was his master and like any good sensei, hadn’t taught her disciple all her best tricks.
“You have an assignment.” She said, always straight to the point. “Are you familiar with the Financial Advising Firm ‘Paradius’?”
“Run with dubious legitimacy by Mr. Akiakios Dartz, who also runs the shady occult gang DOMA, though I’ve never figured out if that’s an acronym or an archaic term for Dominion.” He replied evenly. “One of their men attacked and scalped one of ours last month.”
There was a moment of silence.
“...When you say ‘scalped’-?” She started.
“I mean on March 3rd of this year at about 2 AM Central European Time, a DOMA agent chased my very reliable technology acquisitions specialist Anders Skyund down, cornered him and engaged in some very imprecise removal of my man’s dorsal cranial dermis.” Odion explained. “We call him ‘Red’ because he’s got Vulpine Cyclical Zoothropy and is the gingerest motherf*cker you’ll ever see. Or, was. A gentleman attempted to force him into a Duel on behalf of “Master Dartz” and took offense when Red declined because Dartz’s agent had tampered with his deck.”
-
They’d been waiting for Red in Jernbanetorget, because the aspiring Shadow Warrior had managed to get his paws on the latest RFID Tag printers, which would allow them to copy IDs, credit cards, and of course, Duel Monsters with much greater efficiency. Marik had been climbing on the tiger statue, fondly reminiscing about Sasha when Red appeared, staggering across the square in the before-dawn light, bloody towel wrapped around his head.
Red had a nervous verbalizing tic at the best of times but as Odion carried him inside all he could manage was strings of gibberish descending into fox-barking and a spectacular Yowl when he carefully pulled the towel off and the horror beneath was revealed.
“Red, oh, Red…” Marik murmured, dropping to his knees in front of the young man, holding his face and pressing their foreheads together while Odion grabbed the first aid kit. “What happened? Who did this to you?”
Rev sobbed, but managed to get his shaking hands up and slowly signed out "D-A-R-T-Z P-A-R-A-D-I-US."
“The financial broker?” Marik startled. “What the hell is his game?”
“Duel Monsters, just like us.” Odion nodded. “Hold onto something Rev, this is going to hurt.” He cautioned, soaking some gauze with bottled water to clean the wounds. Red grabbed Marik around the shoulders, Marik returning his embrace even as he sobbed and babbled through the pain. “Akakios Dartz isn’t tournament-ranked, but apparently he keeps his hand in the game and is a decent player- he cleaned up at the backroom tournaments in Monte Carlo last year.” Odion noted.
Marik frowned, then returned his attention to Red. “Let me see what happened?” he asked quietly, taking the Millennium Rod from its holster on his hip.
Red stared at The Rod, but nodded, unable to speak. Odion waited, watching as Marik gently cupped a hand on Red’s cheek, held the Rod up to his own forehead, eyes closed, then tipped it forward to tap it to Red’s, a small flash of golden light and metallic chime indicating that their minds had connected.
Red whimpered and shivered, but held still under the command of The Rod and Marik’s own Iron Will. Working fast while the pain was dulled, Odion finished sanitizing the bleeding edges of his scalp, applying clotting sponges and gauze, and was nearly done when Marik returned.
“What’s The Fox Say?” Hodgekiss asked, on standby with an armful of Kvikk Lunsj and a water bottle.
Marik opened his eyes, suddenly dark with rage and Odion reflexively reached to touch the hieroglyphs carved into his face, but Marik’s hair still hung about his shoulders and he bit his lip rather than leer.
Good. Odion sighed with relief. Not that Dartz doesn’t deserve That Thing for what he’s done.
“It seems that Dartz has Delusions of Grandeur, and plans to Rule the world that is rightfully mine. He infuses cards with magic and slips them into an unsuspecting Duelist’s deck.” Marik explained with a light and cheerful voice that belied an incandescent rage. Hands still shaking, Red pulled out the card, which glowed with an unpleasant green glyph. Odion wrapped his hand in the towel before taking it from him.
“Mousetrap!” He called and his familiar appeared on the table at his side, a warded jar already in the clever serpent’s coils. Carefully, he placed the card inside, which hissed and sparked when it touched the sides.
Oh. Odion winced as he sealed it away for later study. Not Good.
“Red was on his way here to report this when some absolute Jackass challenged him to a Duel on behalf of ‘Lord Dartz’. While they were both riding motorcycles! He didn’t even have a helmet!” Marik smiled, the hand gripping The Rod shaking with rage as he affectionately stroked Red’s cheek.
“-Now, Red here is much too smart to play a strange card just because it turned up in his deck, and this rather angered the fellow that challenged him, and the fact that Red won- at the cost of his poor Hamaya, apparently- more so! He had to turn into a fox to escape and even then The Bastard ran him down. What was it he said?”
Red gurgled with pain.
“I’m sorry.” Marik said, genuine, nuzzling Red’s cheek again, “ah, right- ‘If I can’t have your soul, I can at least present Lord Dartz with your skin!’. Prick. Poor Red only barely managed to turn back in time or he might not be with us at all!”
“May I advise that we contact A Private Doctor and get Red some proper treatment, and then decide what to do?”
Red tugged at the chain on Marik’s crop top, muttering something.
“Ah. This was at the airport, so the bastard is long gone by now. Well, if we’ll need to track him down, we might as well get the auditions over with and bolster our numbers before going on the offensive.” Marik shrugged as Odion scrolled through his contacts for Dr. Chopper. He was nearby, visiting family.
“Don’t worry.” Marik soothed, holding Red’s tear-soaked face. “Nobody hurts my friends and gets away with it.”
-
“Marik decided to wait to bolster our numbers after the Duelist Kingdom Tournament before deciding how to retaliate, but now might be a good time to discuss it, if you needed us to take specific action against Paradius.” He finished. Ms. Sugoroku already knew why they had been visiting Red, which Odion decided was enough for her to worry about, and declined to mention the magically active card he’d taken off Poor Red.
“You and your brother have such a magnificently ruthless efficiency about you. You get started on assignments before I even hand them out.” She sighed.
“I aim to Please, Ma’am.” he replied.
“Well, before you get into any retaliatory hairdressing, we’re investigating Dartz and think we’ve found a potential witness and I need you to collect him.” Ms. Sugoroku explained and Odion’s personal phone chirped as it received an email. “We think he might be willing to turn on his master with the correct motivation so if you can keep Marik from flaying him until after I’ve had a chat with him, I’d appreciate it.”
“That is something I am Specifically Bad At, but you will have my most valiant efforts.” Odion hummed with concern, opening the email and flicking through it. Rafael Noland, age 18, Survivor of the wreck of the SS Anne- “What a shame, he’s a handsome thing.”
“Report back to me before you move on Paradius or DOMA.” she sighed.
“Yes Ma’am.”
There was a click, and the line went dead.
Odion sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.“I feel increasingly like poor Truffaldino, the Servant of Two Masters.” He muttered.
“Who was that?” Marik asked amiably, stepping out onto the lanai with Odion.
“The agent I set to investigate Dartz and Paradius after the incident in Oslo.” Odion lied.
“Yes, they’ve been on my mind as well.” Marik nodded, “I think we should do something Dramatic and Incendiary.” Said Marik. “Light a fire under his ass, so to speak.”
“Appropriate, and keeping with past retaliations.” Odion nodded, re-reading the brief file on this Rafael Ms. Sugoroku wanted so badly. “We have a reputation to uphold, after all.”
Marik stood at the edge of the Lanai, staring off into the horizon, considering his options, The Rod in hand. Suddenly, he beamed, snapping his fingers as an idea struck.
“Hirutani!” he grinned. “You know, the promising young fellow with the Yo-yos! He and his gang are quite talented with motorcycles as well! Your report said there was a factory in Dartz’s holdings?”
“He has a factory in Milan that makes custom motorcycles for his ‘racing team’, which very likely includes Red’s attacker.” Odion nodded, grinning. Marik was a headache sometimes, but more than made up for it in moments like these. “-He even has a rally race scheduled next month to promote his brand to European businesses, so while Dartz himself may not be on-site, his team certainly will be.”
Marik co*cked his head with interest at the mention of the race, nodding as the details fell into place in his mind, teeth bared in glee like a hound at the scent of a hare.
“Go On.” Odion encouraged.
“Oh, nothing special,” Marik waved. “Just a simple Gate-Crash-And-Grab. A rally race means there will be a lot of top-of-the line bikes present- Why not take the whole fleet? It’ll make him look like a fool and piss off his allies and potential associates, and we seem to be short on vehicles.” he explained and sauntered over to where Odion was sitting to jab a finger into his shoulder.
“My apologies, Master.” He bowed his head. “And for Red?”
Marik waved him off, scrolling through his flip phone’s contacts and calling someone. “Hirutani! I know, I know it’s very early but Your Master has a Job for you.”
Hirutani, much to his credit, chattered agreeably on his end of the line even though it was barely dawn back in Nihonifornia.
“About how many men do you think you can scramble by Monday? Good. Do any of them know how to drive Semi Trucks? Oh! That’s more than I was expecting actually, that’s very good. Now listen- Our dear friend and comrade Red was attacked by another gang-”
Odion could make out ‘knock their teeth in and pull their nuts off!’ and chuckled at his enthusiasm. Well, something decent might have turned up in the recruiting auditions after all.
“I love the energy,” Marik agreed, smiling indulgently. “-but you need to think bigger. I want their leader’s attention and at his level, it’s better to beat his bottom line rather than his actual bottom. So come Monday you and your friends and their motorcycles and those very vicious Yo-Yos you showed me will be present to sharpen your skills and make sure all your machines are in top shape. Once you’ve all been properly trained and kitted, I’m going to put you on a plane to Milan, and you’re going to do a bit of Arson and a lot of Larceny for me.”
There was a mildly confused noise on the other end.
“Yes, the one in Italy.” Marik nodded.
There was the sound of hesitancy and Marik had to bite his lip to avoid laughing. “Poor provincial creature, he's never been farther from home than Vegas.” he whispered to Odion, giggling at Hirutani like Marik hadn’t spent the first twelve years of his life living within the square mile of where he was born.
“No, no, let me worry about that. I’ll hand this over to my local contact- You and Barbara will get on splendidly- and she’ll tell you when and where to turn up. You’re going to be stealing a small factory’s worth of motorcycles and then burning it to the ground. Yes! This involves some stealth and a lot of outrunning the Polizia di Stato. Can you manage that?”
There was a lot of enthusiasm on the other end of the line.
“Excellent!” Marik beamed.
Odion waved to get Marik’s attention. “-My agent thinks they’ve found someone that will turn on Dartz with the correct ‘motivation’.” He held up the phone to show Rafael’s picture. Marik squinted- He had to get the boy to an eye doctor sooner rather than later- then grinned as a particularly choice bit of revenge occurred to him.
“Now, here’s the final part, and this is very important- before you burn the factory to the ground, I want you to collect one of Dartz’s minions- a- hang on-” he leaned over to read off Odion’s phone. “A Rafael Noland. I’ll make sure he’s there. Take care to not damage him too much, especially not his hair.”
There was some confusion on Hirutani’s part.
“It’s a fun surprise for Poor Red when you get back. You can help out there too, if you do a good job on this.” Marik promised. “Alright, you get your men together and my contact will fill you in with the details this weekend. Yes. This will be so fun! Alright, Ciao!” he hung up.
“Out of curiosity, what are you planning for Mr. Rafael that involves Red, Master?” Odion co*cked his head.
“I’m sure that Red would prefer to have another ginger for a donor but if Mr.Rafael proves uncooperative, I don’t think Red will mind being a blonde.” Marik explained. “We have more fun, after all.”
Odion opened his mouth to comment, found he didn’t have a reply, and instead offered Marik his drink to toast the mission. Marik returned it with yet another Smoothie- Passion-Orange-Guava this time, a concoction so divine Odion was reasonably sure it could stave off death itself.
There was a moment of pleased silence between them.
…Too Quiet.
“...Where’s Hodgekiss?” Marik asked as he realized he hadn’t heard anything break in the better part of half an hour.
“I think he went down to the beach with the rest of the lads.” Odion frowned at the shore, hidden by the trees, relieved to not see a pillar of smoke, at least. “Shall I fetch him?”
“No, no he’s my responsibility.” Marik stretched and re-holstered the Rod.
“As you wish.” Odion nodded as Marik went back into the house, stepped over Stephannie’s prone form as he refilled his smoothie, gave her bald head an affectionate pat, and left.
Odion waited until he saw Marik well down the trail to the beach before he called back.
“That was quick.” Ms. Sugoroku spoke evenly.
“Marik is very decisive when there is an ass that needs kicking.” Odin shrugged.
“An admirable quality in a young man.” Ms. Sugoroku replied, perhaps genuinely. “What’s he decided on?”
“He’s decided to rob and destroy the Motorcycle manufacture plant in Milan that Paradius owns for the racing team Dartz owns. Rafael Noland is a notable team member, it wouldn’t be hard to arrange for him to be present at the event and collect him for you then.”
“Acceptable.” She grunted, high praise from the woman. “When?”
“Marik will call Agent Barbara in Los Osaka in the morning, with the intent of assembling the raiding party and attacking during the race next month.”
“Hm.” She muttered. “Very well. I’ll tell the Italian branch that we’re conducting operations there and to call off the Polizia?”
“Please?”
“Fine. Proceed as planned, I’ll call if something changes.”
“Yes Ma’am.” The line clicked dead again and Odion slouched back in the chair, sighing and pinching where the bridge of his nose met his brow. There was a noise beside him and he cracked an eye open to find the massive black Cobra coiled on the railing beside him, returned from vanquishing his obnoxiously loud nemesis.
“Mousetrap, my comfort and joy-” he smiled, offering an arm for Mousetrap to cross from the railing to his shoulders. Instead, Mousetrap looked behind him, back towards the coast, where Odion could make out the excited shouts of Marik and the lads. He sighed, scooped up the snake, stepped over Stephannie with a quiet ‘Pardon me’ and followed the trail down to the beach.
The boys were out on the rocks, close to the tideline, in a semi-circle around Hodgekiss, whose face was contorted with effort and concentration.
“CRAB BATTLE! CRAB BATTLE! CRAB BATTLE! CRAB BATTLE!” they chanted, as Hodgekiss circled his opponent, an exceptionally large blue-purple crab holding the same bowie knife that Hodgekiss held. Judging by the crab’s liveliness and the fact that Hodgekiss’ shins and forearms were covered in cuts, the crab was winning.
Odion watched as Hodgekiss dove in an attempt to stab the crab, slipped on the rocks, fell face-first into the Crab, and promptly got one ear trapped in the Crab’s free claw, and the other sliced open by its knife as Marik and the lads shouted in terror.
Distantly, he wondered if the doomed blonde Ms. Sugoroku had sent him was this dumb if he was working for Dartz, watching as Marik pulled Hodgekiss to his feet, Crab now dangling from his nose and swiping wildly at his chest with the knife.
Probably not. Mr. Rafael doesn’t have Crab Scars all over him.
*
“Sooo… this tunnel actually go anywhere or are we just on the world’s most boring hike?” Joey asked. They’d been walking in the apparently much-more-extensive-than-Tristan’s-maps-indicated for some time now, through dusty tunnels and up an appalling amount of stairs, the way only Illuminated by Read-A-Thon-apparently-named Zygor’s flashlight, as Mod-squad-named-Sid followed him, knife occasionally poking through Joey’s jacket to keep him moving.
“Boring?” Sid asked. “You can’t see all the skeletons?”
“The what?” Joey arched a skeptical brow over his shoulder at Sid.
“The whole tunnel’s a graveyard.” Said Zygor. “Pegasus is a real freak, if kids got caught down here in previous tournaments, he just left ‘em down here to rot.”
“...Yeah, I feel like people would tend to notice if a bunch of upper-middle-class kids vanished every time he had a tournament.” Joey sighed. “Poor kids he could nab, but the hobby’s cost-restrictive in a way that means it gets at least passive attention from the cops.”
“Kids vanish all the time-” Said Zygor. “-especially in caves. People just get real curious about what’s in the next chamber and then they get stuck and can’t-"
“I swear on me mum, you talk about the Nutty Putty Cave Incident again and it’ll be you under the knife.” Sid growled.
“Yeah, okay, but my point still stands-” Zygor rolled his eyes. “Kids vanish all the time, even rich ones! There was that kid back in ‘92 that got washed away when the cruise ship his family was on took a wrong turn into a supercell storm- there’s a good chance he made it to one of the nearby islands, but nobody ever organized a search party for him! And like five or six years ago there was this CEO’s kid back in Domino that allegedly got hit by a car, but he was supposed to be at the R&D lab all day and not in a car, there was no accident report filed with the police, and the Los Osaka County Coroner’s office never managed to get a look at his body! And back in the 80’s in England the son of like, The Queen’s Personal Wizard f*ckin’ vanished without a trace from his family estate- there WAS an investigation into that and they never found him but they did find out his sister had apparently been missing for even longer!”
“Do you. Do you research mysterious disappearances for a hobby or somethin’?” Joey stared at Zygor, mystified.
“I mean I wouldn’t call it a hobby but man somebody oughta be lookin’ into these, so don’t get rude with me-” Zygor said, turning on his heel and raising the flashlight over his head.
“Nah, nah, you’re right.” Joey waved, attempting to deescalate the situation. “-My friend Yugi researches shipwrecks and trainwrecks and stuff for the same reason. I think. I mean he might- Nevermind, it’s not important.” Joey shrugged.
“Anyway, I don’t think it’s particularly unlikely that those-” Zygor swung the flashlight around to illuminate a small skeleton leaning up against the tunnel wall. “-are real.”
Joey froze.
“Alright Blondie, let’s keep moving-” sighed Sid, prodding at their mark with the butt of the knife.
Joey continued to not move, save to start hyperventilating.
“Oi, I said it’s time to m-” Sid began, and was interrupted by the sudden and forceful presence of Joey’s fist actually inside of his open mouth, cutting him off before sending him flying into the opposite wall.
“THAT’S A KID!” Joey bellowed.
“Oops.” said Zygor.
“THAT’S A KID, LEFT DOWN HERE TO DIE?? AND YOU’RE TREATIN’ THEM LIKE AN ATTRACTION ON A MUSEUM TOUR?!” Joey bellowed.
“Dude what’s taking so long?” asked a small, gaunt and far-too-pale child, appearing at the bend in the tunnel and glaring at them.
“OH sh*t!” shrieked Joey, flinching away from the child in horror. He stumbled back, blinked a few times and suddenly dropped to his knees and bowed.
“I am really, really sorry nobody came to help you.” Joey said, stone cold serious as Sid whined in pain behind him. “If I get off the island alive I’ll organize a search party for your bones. Please don’t haunt me.”
“Uh.” Said the gaunt child.
“That’s uh-” Zygor tried, looking between Joey’s prostrations, and Sid spitting out a tooth.
“Dude, get down here!” Joey hissed, grabbing at Zygor’s shirt. “Show some f*ckin’ respect, or do you want the kid to haunt you?” he growled up at him, jabbing a thumb in the spectral child’s direction.
“...Okay, I know I look like death warmed over, but I’m not a f*cking ghost.” the child groaned.
“What?” asked Joey, bewildered, reaching out and awkwardly patting the kid’s face.
“LANGUAGE!” shouted what appeared to be a Tough-Guy Biker (shades on in the dark and all) rounding the corner and cuffing the decidedly-solid child under the ear. “Oh good, you found a mark. Come on Blondie.
“What.” Said Joey, now thoroughly lost.
The Biker sighed in aggravation, reached down and picked Joey up by his collar, as though to pull him to his feet, but then he kept going, picking Joey up like a backpack full of forgotten homework assignments and carrying the teen over his shoulder one-handed, around the bend and into the chamber beyond, which was lit by dozens of candles and the shimmering holographic bars of a Duel Arena.
“Ah, sh*t.” said Joey as the Biker tossed him onto the Dueling platform and kicked the lift switch on.
“Ah shiiiiiiiiiiiiit.” he whimpered as the arena activated and illuminated the room even more- the arena itself displayed the holographic terrain of a graveyard, which was a problem by itself, but the room around them was littered with human bones and coffins and creepy candelabras and-
Joey gripped the sides of the platform, head down.
Okay.
Okay Okay Okay Okay Okay Okay Okay Okay Okay Okay-
This is not Okay.
This is very f*cked up.
Breathe
That’s what Dr. Crane said
Okay
Breathing.
I can do breathing, just need a minute to-
-
“WELCOME, finally, TO THE ARENA OF THE DEAD!!” the gaunt child from before bellowed as he appeared on the opposite platform, teetering a bit, as he was standing on a phone book to reach the playtop better. “This is where your dreams come to die… Joseph!” He said, reading off the driver’s license in the wallet Keith had tossed him.
“Nicely delivered.” Grunted Sid.
“Shut it.” Bonz hissed. “THIS IS THE GRAVEYARD ARENA, WHERE MY GRUESOME ZOMBIES WILL HAVE THE ADVAN- Okay seriously dude. Say something.”
‘Joseph’ didn’t respond, just stayed where he was lurched over the playtop, shaking.
“Are you gonna puke because like. Please don’t.” Bonz winced.
“Lookit the poor bastard- scared stupid already!” Sid laughed.
“You got this Bonz!” Keith cheered, sitting back on the pile of rocks behind Bonz, where he could see his protege’s cards. “Hey! Blondie! Back to the world of the living! You got a duel to win!”
Joseph looked up, eyes wide and shaking faintly. “Duel?” he asked, voice flat.
“Yeah, dipsh- dummy.” Bonz corrected himself. “You’re dueling for your life here, pay attention.”
“What.”
“See, I got a little bit of a grudge to settle with Pegasus, and my lil’ dudes here need practice dueling, so I told Sid and Zygor to find some dumb f*ck with a lot of starchips for Bonz to duel, and we’d pool our starchips so’s I can smack that stupid grin and eye off Pegasus’ face, but they seem to have found someone that’s all arm and no brains.” Keith laughed.
“We were just going to mug you and be done with it, but apparently you gotta Log Duels or something?” Zygor shrugged. “So instead you’re dueling Bonz or Sid’ll stab you and you can join all the other skellies in here!”
Joey blinked slowly at him.
“A Duel?” Joseph repeated, slowly.
“Yes. A Duel. It’s Your Turn.” Bonz explained slowly. “For fff-flan’s sake, where did you find this guy? In a ditch? Because he’s acting like someone knocked his brains ou-”
“You wanna play life-or-death games, on the behalf of some other guy’s grudge-” Joseph growled.
“Hey-” Keith objected.
“You wanna play- PLAY- LIKE FOR FUN- IN A ROOM FILLED WITH HUMAN REMAINS??” Joseph shouted, waving his arm to gesture at the piles of bones.
“Uh-” Bonz sputtered.
“What?” Whispered Keith.
“I uh. Might’a accidentally gone overboard with the kayfabe.” Zygor muttered.
“THESE WERE PEOPLE YOU f*ckING PUNK, YOU- YOU DISREPECT THEM BY USING THEM AS f*ckING DECORATIONS IN YOUR CRYPT-KEEPER-c*nt-FACED ARENA?” Joey roared, punching the playtop hard enough to make the whole arena spark with light.
“HEY!” shouted Keith “LANGUAGE!!”
“I’LL SWEAR AS MUCH AS I WANT YOU GRAVE-REMAINS DESECRATING sh*tSTAIN THAT GOT HIS DUMB ASS HANDED TO HIM BY A DELUSIONAL CORPORATE DANDY AND A GODDAMN KINDERGARTENER.” Joey continued, teeth bared. “THAT’S RIGHT YOU CHODE-MONGERING DOGf*ckER! I SAW THE INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIPS AND YEAH, PEGASUS IS A CHEATING LUMP OF FESTERING smegm* BUT THE FACT STANDS THAT YOU LOST TO A MAN NUTTIER THAN A GRANOLA BAR, AND NOW YOU’RE HERE MAKIN’ A KID YOUR PROXY JUST LIKE HE DID, SO IF ANYTHING YOU’RE AN EVEN SADDER VERSION OF THAT ONE-EYED CUMRAG.”
There was a moment of horrified silence as Joey paused to inhale.
“-AND NOW, PEGASUS MAKES A MOCKERY OF DEATH BY BUILDING AN ARENA IN THE MIDDLE OF A MASS f*ckIN’ GRAVE AND HERE YOU ARE, SINKING LIKE A sh*t-CLOGGED SUMP PUMP DOWN TO HIS LEVEL BY PLAYING IN IT. JESUS-TITTY-f*ckING-CHRIST I DON’T THINK YOU CAN EMBARASS YOURSELF FURTHER. YOU’RE AS PATHETIC AND USELESS AS A PLAY-DOUGH dild*, AND SMELL WORSE. GODDAMNIT.” Joey continued, shaking with rage now. “Anyway, I play Battle Ox and two cards face down. f*ck me I’m gonna have to call every shrine, church and synagouge in Domino to get un-cursed from doing this.”
“I think I just learned like, six new words.” muttered Bonz. “Also I summon Crass Clown in Defense Mode.”
“-And you’ll use none of ‘em.” Growled Keith. “You take that back Joseph.”
“Go home and f*ck a pile of dogsh*t you washed-up hack.” Joey spat. “Battle Ox? f*ck his clown up.”
“I said, Take. It. Back.” Keith snarled, standing up and reaching into his vest as the monsters hacked and slashed on the arena.
“Uh. Boss.” Sid sputtered.
“Boss!” Yelped Bonz.
“Boss if you kill him we’ll have to find a whole other duelist and we’re already a day behind schedule.” Said Zygor.
Keith stopped. “...sh*t.” he realized.
“LaNgUaGe!” Joey teased.
“You live for now, dickweed.” Keith snarled. “Far Left card Bonz.” he added, quieter.
“...You sure Boss?” Bonz asked.
“Yup. Remember, we went over this? Keep feedin’ him monsters like sausage, and the more he racks into the graveyard, the more screwed he’ll be.” Keith muttered, gaze fixed on Joey across the arena.
“...Oh! Right.” Bonz grinned. “I summon Dark Dragon in defense mode!”
“You assholes know I can hear you right?” Joey glared. “I’m stupid, not deaf.”
“You’re just gonna admit to being a moron in front of God and everyone, huh?” Keith laughed.
“Yeah. I’m a grade-A dumbass, which means if you lose to me, you probably belong in the produce department.” Joey grinned. “So maybe your strategy relies on me sending a lot of monsters to the graveyard, but that relies on you drawing your special whatsit before I take out all your lifepoints, which is a gamble I don’t think is gonna pay off. I summon Garoozis! Battle Ox, take out that Dragon, and Garoozis? You hit his life points directly.”
“Aw fudge.” Bonz realized as the ox trampled his dragon into glittering dust, and the armored lizard charged at him, yellow eyes burning with glee. His life points tinkled down, and when the lights faded from his eyes, he had gone from 2000 life points to a mere 200.
“So tell me Bonz-” Joey grinned. “-Do you feel lucky? Well? Do ya? Punk?”
Bonz glared at him, hand hovering over his deck before he drew, defiant. The boy glanced at his card before grinning at Joey. “Yeah Eastwood. I do feel pretty Lucky- I play Call Of The Haunted! It lets me bring back every monster in my Graveyard- as a Zombie!”
There was an ominous groaning and bulging in the arena and the clown and dragon burst from the graves in an uncharacteristically well-animated sequence, flesh peeling and rotting now, putrid gasses steaming from the holes in their heads and faces, blackened blood dripping onto the arena. Joey stared at the zombies in horror.
“-And since they’re Zombies now, not only can they not be destroyed, they also gain a field power bonus!” Bonz laughed as the attack points of his monsters climbed, well over the average monster attack value, and probably more than nearly every monster in Joey’s deck, the monsters bloating accordingly, even if their defense scores remained a flat 0.
Joey continued to stare in silence.
“Dude, you can’t keep going catatonic every other turn.” Bonz groaned.
“Zombies!” said Joey, voice high and clipped.
“Yes Joseph, Zombies!” Bonz tried to encourage him. “They’re back from the dead to kick your butt! Zombie Dragon! Zombie Clown! Destroy his monsters!” he laughed manically as the Dragon’s breath melted the Ox and the Clown slashed through the Lizard.
Joey stared, face blank, at the arena. Slowly, he tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling now.
“You like Zombies Bonz? You think they’re funny?” he sighed.
“They’re funny when they destroy your monsters.” Bonz giggled.
“You ever actually see anyone die? Like, right in front of you?” Joey asked.
The arena was silent again.
“Well, uh. No…” Bonz admitted.
“WELL I f*ckIN’ HAVE!” Joey roared, snapping forward and slamming his hands on the arena hard enough to make the entire display glitch. “DEAD’S DEAD MOTHERf*ckER, THERE’S NO COMING BACK FROM IT ONCE YOU’RE GONE- GOD KNOWS THEY TRIED. THE EMTS AND THE DOCTORS AND THE SURGEONS AND EVEN THE f*ckING HOSPITAL NECROMANCERS TOOK A CRACK AT HIS CORPSE BUT HE WAS DEAD THE SECOND HE HIT THE PAVEMENT.”
They all stared at Joey as he crumpled over the playtop, sobbing.
“Oooooooooohsh*tIreallyf*ckedthisup.” whispered Keith.
“I. Uh. I’m really sorry?” Bonz muttered, teetering on the phone book.
Joey sobbed louder.
“Hey, uh- okay, you’re right, we- we took this too far. There’s no real bones in here. They’re Halloween decorations. Look-” Keith got up and picked up one of the skulls, rapping it with his knuckles. “See? It’s plastic!”
“Yeah I- I totally lied about the kids disappearing in the tunnels.” said Zygor.
“You WHAT?” Shouted Keith.
“I told him that Pegasus let any kids that got lost in the tunnels just die and that all the theater bones were their remains.” explained Zygor.
“You told him that-? That-?” yelped Keith. “Jesus, f*ck- I’m sorry buddy, f*cking hell…” Keith tried to soothe him, reaching up onto the platform and awkwardly patting Joey’s sneaker.
The touch to his shoe knocked Joey out of his fugue and he donkey-kicked sideways, breaking Keith’s shades across his nose, and then his nose as well.
“f*ck!” Shouted Keith, stumbling back and clutching his face, which meant he wasn’t guarding to protect when Joey jumped off the side of his platform and took a flying kick at Keith’s chest, knocking him flat on the tunnel floor and straddling him, punches swinging wildly.
“FIFTEEN! WE WEREN’T OUT OF MIDDLE SCHOOL, HE GOT HIS LEARNER’S PERMIT THE WEEK BEFORE AND SOME JACKASS SOLD HIM THE BIKE! I WAS RIDING ON THE BACK YOU HAVE ANY f*ckIN’ IDEA WHAT KIND OF NOISE HUMAN BONE MAKES WHEN IT SMEARS ACROSS PAVEMENT?? BECAUSE I DO! I HEAR IT IN MY f*ckING NIGHTMARES!!”
“OKAY, OKAY! UNCLE! I’M SORRY GET THE f*ck OFF ME!!” Keith howled, grabbing Joey by the arm and stopping him as Sid and Zygor pulled him off their boss. Joey shook them off, snarling, but didn’t move to charge and after a moment, he forced his fists open, turning away from them.
“You’re an asshole, Keith.” Joey muttered as he climbed back onto the platform. “Baby Dragon in defense mode.”
“Yeah, okay, I’m an asshole but I’m not a f*cking degenerate.” Keith nodded, pulling his bandana off to wipe the blood off his face. “Kee-Rhist you got an arm like a goddamn V-8 piston. Where you from?”
“Domino.” Joey muttered, glaring at the field. “...wait. You’re Bandit Keith.”
“Yes, welcome to the last 20 minutes of reality Joey.” Keith groaned.
“WHERE THE f*ck IS MOKUBA?” Joey bellowed, head whipping around the dark room.
“IN MY SHED, SLEEPING. LIKE I SAID, I’M AN ASSHOLE, NOT A DEGENERATE.” Keith shouted, giving Joey the finger.
“Oh than God.” Joey wheezed. “-okay that one wasn’t on you, the last time I played a game in Mokuba’s immediate vicinity he f*ckin’ poisoned me.”
“...He poisoned you?” Keith asked, bewildered.
“With a plate of Spaghetti.” Joey nodded, picking up his cards again. “Fuuuuuck how do zombie cards work again?”
“They kick your ass.” Grumbled Bonz. “I play Pumpking! He can pump ectoplasm into my zombies and make them even more powerful!” he cheered as the massive jack-o'-lantern sprouted on the field, vines plunging with a distressingly wet squelch into the zombies, which bloated with necrotic energy and corporal edema.
“Ugh, who f*ckin’ animated these things?” Joey winced. “They need therapy. And a raise, I think I’m gonna puke-”
“Dragon Zombie! Destroy his Baby Dragon! Crass Clown, attack his lifepoints directly!” Bonz commanded, and the monsters lurched towards him. Baby Dragon dissolved with a pitiful squeal in the jaws of the undead dragon, but before the clown could strike, Joey flipped one of his facedown cards over.
“Negate attack! Sorry, clownshoes, maybe you should go back to college and work on getting your egg?” Joey grinned. “I place one monster facedown in defense mode and end my turn.
“I’m sorry, that little shrimp poisoned you? With spaghetti? ” Keith demanded.
“And meatballs! I think he’s mostly better now but maybe don’t let him cook for you?” Joey shrugged.
Bonz froze. “I… I think I only made s’mores for him last night, not the other way around?”
“Ah, nah, if he poisoned you you’d be dead by now.” Joey attempted to reassure him.
“Well f*ck me, here I thought I was going too far-” Keith muttered.
“You were.” Joey glared.
“-but apparently this island is full of poisoners and immortal clay men and giant man-eating dogs and this morning Kemo was texting that there’s a giant f*cked-up rabbit on the loose.”
“Oh yeah. Cursed sh*t Be Afoot.” Joey nodded. “Pegasus is The Most Cursed though- the way he cheats is that his prosthetic eye is a magical artifact that lets him read minds.”
“IT f*ckING WHAT-” Shouted Keith
“So much for Language I guess.” Bonz muttered. “Zombie Dragon! Attack his facedown monster- You just gonna throw up sad little monsters at me until you run out of cards?”
“I’m gonna hold my defenses until my deck comes through for me, yeah.” Joey glared. “Yeah. It can also rip people’s souls out of their bodies and summon ghosts and I think maybe shoot lasers? I mean if it doesn’t shoot lasers it should, but also Pegasus is f*ckin’ lame-”
“OKAY-” Keith said in a tone that indicated things were very much Not Okay. “Sid, pry open the control panel. We’re finishing this Duel because it’s good practice for Bonz but we won’t log it, regardless of outcome- you kids aren’t staying on this island a minute longer.”
“AAWWW, BOSS!” the Mystery Skulls whined as a chorus.
“NO!” Keith rounded on them. “I’m your Big Bro and that means makin’ sure nobody dies or gets sunburned or their souls ripped out or harmed in general, and that means you’re leaving the island with Mokuba as soon as the supply boat gets here from Catalina.”
“But Boss!” Bonz pouted, lip wobbling.
“No Buts about it!” Keith growled, wagging his finger at the boy. “Finish kicking Joey’s ass and then you’re going home.”
“You know if you slow down the duel, you get to stay here for longer.” Joey grinned.
“Shut it Joseph, there’s no delaying the rea- nevermind I can’t joke about that. Make your move.”
Joey looked down at his hand, squinting in the dark. Okay, Okay- you got this. Sure be f*ckin’ nice if Bakura was here, he knows all about this creepy sh*t…
*
“You’re sure?” asked Téa.
“Quite positive!” Smiled Bakura. “Doesn’t smell like blood at all!”
“Nah, he’s right, if it really was blood it would have dried black, not red.” Nodded Tristan, flashlight trained on the theatrically bright red stain on the wall of the tunnel. “This is definitely special effects blood- someone’s trying to scare anybody that comes down here.”
Bakura swiped his fingers through the bright red goop, and tasted it. “-Specifically it’s Mehon’s Brand Fake Bl-”
“DON’T f*ckING LICK STUFF OFF OF CAVE WALLS!” wailed Yugi, partially hiding behind Téa.
“I licked it off my fingers, I’m not an animal!” Bakura protested.
“Yeah, that’s not better.” Tristan sighed, rolling his eyes. “-but if there’s fake blood down here, that means someone- likely Pegasus- decorated the tunnel and he may know we’re here after all.”
“If it’s Pegasus he’s got cheap taste in props!” Bakura called from somewhere in the darkness.
“DUDE!” Shouted Tristan. “STOP RUNNING OFF LIKE THAT! I CAN’T SEE YOU IN THE DARK. WHAT IF YOU ROLL AN ANKLE?”
“I can see just fine?” Bakura asked as Tristan’s flashlight beam found him again. “It’s not that dark in here.”
“We. Are. In. A. Cave.” Groaned Tristan, holding Yugi’s only available hand and pulling him and Téa along after Bakura. “It doesn’t GET darker unless you somehow manage to crawl inside a black hole. What the hell do you mean you can see in here?”
“I mean I can see just fine? I wouldn’t want to read in here because I’d get a headache, but it’s not that dark?” Bakura shrugged, holding a plastic Halloween decoration skull that looked much less ominous up close. “Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him well. A man of non-recyclable plastic!” he joked, holding it aloft.
Yugi looked back over his shoulder to the complete and all-consuming darkness behind him. “I mean, I know my vision is going and I’ll need glasses sooner than later but I really think this is really, really dark…” he muttered.
“You might have shot your night vision being on your computer late at night?” Bakura shrugged. “If you turn off that flashlight I’m sure you guys will adapt in a minute or two.”
“Yeah. No.” Téa glared. “We’d break an ankle or worse in this darkness, and I’d like to make it to the Coppélia tryouts at the Domino Performing Arts if we survive the weekend.”
“Suit yourselves.” Bakura shrugged cheerfully, turning to head further into the tunnel before Tristan grabbed his hand with an aggravated sigh.
“I swear, I’ll put a f*cking bell on you if you keep wandering off.” Tristan grumbled, sweeping the beam of light in a regular arc between the floor, walls, and ceiling.
“Oh dear.” Bakura pondered, amiably letting himself be dragged along. “Half the girls at school already call me kitten. They’ll be insufferable if I show up wearing a collar like Yugi.”
“You and your f*cking fanclub-” Tristan groaned.
“Yugi, are you alright?” Téa asked, hand on his shoulder as he pressed close to her, broken arm to her thigh.
“Not really.” he winced. “This is- it just reminds me of the duels with Pegasus and that Zorc guy that was possessing Bakura.”
The Shadow Realm. Nodded Yami, drifting beside them. He was mostly Yugi-colored at the moment, but his windbreaker had mysteriously gotten longer and more cape-like, drifting in a nonexistent breeze behind Yami.
“Yeah, what IS that place?” Yugi turned to ask him.
I’m not entirely sure. Yami frowned. It’s another world, like the afterlife, but it’s not- The Aaru is a bright and beautiful place, full of life- or, afterlife, I suppose. The shadow realm is… somewhere else, hostile to life- I remember that it gets hard to breathe if you stay for too long.
“Oh, so it’s Hell!” Yugi chirped, slightly hysterical. “-You’ve been there before?”
Apparently? I can’t remember why though. Just the heaviness and feeling like the air was running out.
“I’ll remember to keep my inhaler in my pocket when we duel Pegasus then.” Yugi groaned.
“We really need to figure out a way to let the rest of us hear Yami.” sighed Téa.
“Right- when I dueled Pegasus and Zorc, we… went to another dimension, I guess? Yami says that if the duels had lasted longer, it would get hard to breathe and eventually kill me.”
Téa frowned down at them, concerned. “What the hell, telepathy isn’t enough, he’s gotta suffocate his opponents too?” she growled. “...Do you think the Eye protects him from the shadow realm? Would the Puzzle protect you?”
Yugi looked over to Yami, who only shrugged. “We don’t know.” Yugi sighed.
“Ah, crap.” groaned Tristan. Ahead of them, the tunnel branched. “This isn’t on the map.”
“Fuuuuuuck” Téa sighed. “You guys have any ideas?”
I don’t sense anything. Yami shrugged.
“You can sense things?” Yugi asked.
Magical energy, sometimes. It shows up like a halo of light, or a buzzing sort of noise. He shrugged. There’s a bit of a glow from Bakura’s Ring, and a very faint glow from the castle, but nothing down either tunnel.
“Okay, but you can tell where the castle is?”
Yami pointed directly ahead of them and slightly upwards.
“Ah. Nuts.” Yugi sighed. “Yami can sense magical energy from the other Millennium Items and has a general idea where the castle is relative to us, but not in a way that tells us what tunnel to take.”
“Cool! But sh*t.” said Tristan. “My first instinct is to follow the Right-Hand Rule, but that’s something Pegasus would know about and deliberately make a labyrinth that doesn’t follow it.”
“Left.” said Bakura, standing just out of the circle of light and staring down the left tunnel, head tipped up, like he was feeling the breeze.
“Bakura, I swear, if you’ve teleported the Ring out of the Cheez Doodles jar and are using it to navigate-” Tristan groaned.
“I don’t need it for this.” he said, back still facing them.
“Oh? You know something about dungeons I don’t? Because like, please share-?” Tristan asked, stepping towards him, but Bakura suddenly flinched, turning sharply to stare at Tristan, wide eyed, tapetum reflecting back in the flashlight.
“WOAH!” Tristan shouted, stumbling back, Bakura covering his face with his hands and slowly sinking to the floor.
“...Bakura?” Yugi asked softly, carefully stepping away from Téa and stepping closer to him, hand outstretched. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. It was just really bright…” Bakura wheezed and let go of his face to take Yugi’s offered hand, but drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face in his elbow, curled into a tight ball. “I- I am really sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Yugi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, sitting down beside him.
“No- I mean- I wanted to tell you last night after the duel, but I was exhausted and could barely string a sentence together, and this morning things kept happening and- I swear, I only found out on Thursday afternoon-” Bakura panted, still not able to look up at his friends.
“It’s okay. I- I think I already know.” sighed Yugi.
Bakura peeked up at him, and while he couldn’t make out his friend’s face in the darkness, Yugi got the impression he’d started crying.
“No offense, but we’ve all known something’s a bit… left-handed about you.” said Téa. “You never go anywhere unless we invite you a dozen times and open the doors for you. You always bring a smoothie to school instead of a real lunch-”
“-You get sunburns in like, five minutes if we’re outside, you’re always awake no matter what ungodly hour I log into the groupchat, you guessed the jellybean counter game at the school fair like, immediately-” Yugi continued.
“-The point is- We knew, even if you weren’t sure. And we’re still your friends!” Said Tristan, waving the flashlight. “Bakura, we love and accept you, exactly as you are.”
“Even if-?” Bakura asked, not quite able to actually say it aloud.
“-Even if you’re a werewolf.” Nodded Tristan.
The others stared blankly at Tristan.
“He’s not a werewolf Tristan.” groaned Téa.
“Yeah! Just now- you know which tunnel we can take because you can smell something, right? You had your head up like you were sniffing the air.” Tristan argued.
“Well, yes.” Bakura admitted. “I can smell fresh blood that way- not a lot, probably a nosebleed- but it’s not lycanthropy-”
“-or were-rabbit or whatever.” Tristan shrugged. “I know, I know, the proper term is ‘Cyclical Zoothropy’-”
“The tests came back from the hematologist last Thursday. I’ve got Sanguivorous Anemia.” Said Bakura. “I’m a Vampire.”
Tristan stared blankly at him.
“I- I don’t know what type it is yet- Dr. Integra sent out another battery of tests to narrow it down, but I’ve never felt the urge to, you know, bite anyone so it’s not like I’m a contagion risk.” Bakura babbled, slightly hysterical. “It’s kind of funny really, I knew something was wrong but I kept writing it off as being British- you know, pale skin, no tolerance for garlic or any spice really, have to be invited everywhere because it’s socially awkward to just turn up somewhere-”
“Well tell Dr. Integra to test again.” Said Tristan, annoyed. “You’re not a vampire.”
“No, She went over the results with me. It’s rather conclusive. No signs of Cyclical Zoothropy. Might have some Fae ancestors but so does everyone from the British Isles really-”
“No.” Said Tristan, insistent. “You’re not a vampire.”
“Tristan-” Yugi protested.
“No! I’d know, okay? I know what vampirism is like, Bakura doesn’t have that!” Tristan shouted. “He- He doesn’t, okay? He can go places, and be out in the sun and- and you went into the buildings when we were on the field trip to the San Juan mission and Namba Yasaka shrine for history class!”
“I’m Pagan.” Bakura shrugged. “I can go into anyone else’s house of worship but I tried cutting through the oak grove next to the university campus once and almost went into anaphylaxis.”
“That’s just hayfever!” Tristan shouted.
“Can’t go near the standing stones up on Mount Lee either.” He shrugged. “Tristan- I- look, I have the damn condition and didn’t know, nobody is going to get on your case for not knowing-”
“I KNOW, OKAY? I f*ckING KNOW WHAT VAMPIRISM IS LIKE, AND YOU DON’T HAVE IT.” Tristan yelled, fist slamming into the stone wall hard enough to bleed. “IT’S NOT COOL OR WHATEVER, IT f*ckING RUINS YOUR LIFE, AND THE LIVES OF EVERYONE AROUND YOU-” he sobbed as Téa grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the wall.
“I’m not faking,” Bakura snapped. “I’m not faking not being able to eat solid food except the most artificial stuff out there! Or just instinctively knowing everyone’s blood pressure! Or- or these f*cking things!” he snarled, jabbing a thumb in his mouth to highlight just how oversized and sharp his canines were.
Yugi grabbed Bakura’s arm to keep him on the floor. “...We know you’re not faking. Tristan, you said- you said you know what it’s like?” Yugi asked, turning to face Tristan, who was hiding his face as well. “...Who else do you know with Vampirism?”
Tristan didn’t answer, just heaving as he tried to hold back tears.
“The-” He started and choked. “The, the reason I’m in such deep sh*t with my sister is- my mom- she- she can’t go outside even for a second, or even see a cross, or eat anything except beef blood.” he sobbed. “She. She’s got Sunnydale syndrome.”
“Oh God.” Téa gasped.
They’d all seen the PSAs- to always travel in groups after dark, to not share needles or go to secret parties, or let strange people into your own home, and to get tested if you suddenly became allergic to sunlight or all food started nauseating you. It had started just north of them, almost a decade ago now-
“-She and Dad were- you know. Dungeoneers. Adventurers, if you will. Specialist Pest control, and the Sunnydale city council called them in to investigate a condemned building full of people with weird symptoms.” He sighed, sitting down on the cave floor as well.
“They f*cking- he wasn’t even human anymore his symptoms were so bad, Dad said- the guy tore her whole throat out. She only survived because she caught it, she’s still got a huge scar-” He whimpered, gesturing to his own throat. “-She can’t do anything now, it’s like- like she’s a shell of who she used to be. And people are so f*cking- they either talk about people like her, like she’s a rabid animal, like she’ll kill them as soon as look at them. Or like, like it’s some kind of fetish? Like its sexy to have constant tooth pain and skin problems and anxiety that you’re a danger to yourself and everyone you love-”
He finally looked up at Bakura. “Please- Please man, you can’t-” He cried. “-I can’t have this happen to someone else.”
Slowly, Bakura unfolded himself and crawled the short distance between them to sit closer to Tristan. “I- I tested negative for Sunnydale Syndrome. It’s not that.” He explained, voice barely above a whisper.
Tristan barked a sharp cry of anguish and relief.
“-That’s why Dr. Integra ordered more tests. She doesn’t think it is Rice's disorder or Forks Syndrome. It might be Polidori’s Curse. Gods know my family is the kind of people that would get that.”
“Polidori’s?” Tristan looked up at him. “I thought that was eradicated in the 1890’s?”
“That’s when they captured and executed the original patient described by Polidori. But the name refers to any Hereditary Vampirism these days.” Said Bakura.
“...For those of us that don’t have a degree in Dungeoneering?” asked Téa.
“Er, the doctor thinks I probably caught vampirism from my parents, rather than from an attack, like Tristan’s mom.” He explained. “I’m very, very sorry about your mother. That’s a horrific condition to live with.”
“Yeah.” Muttered Tristan. “I- I’m sorry, I just. You’re already living in that roach motel and collapsed in PE last year, if your symptoms got worse-”
“Well. Now that I know I have medication, and a doctor to manage it?” Bakura shrugged.
“Oh sh*t, when were you supposed to take your meds?” Yugi asked.
“Going on three days ago.” Bakura winced. “The Parasite- Zorc? It took over and left them on my desk when It came to the island. It’s alright! I’m not more of a danger without them than I was last week!”
“-And you’ve never felt the urge to bite someone?” Tristan asked.
“Well- Not exactly. I’ve felt the urge and been sickened by it. Literally. I’d throw up when it got really bad.” Bakura admitted. “Sometimes… Well, when The Parasite was in control of my body, It’d feel the same urges and- well, It never had any qualms about harming someone else for Its benefit.”
Tristan nodded slowly, then opened his backpack, pulled out the warded cheez doodles jar, and glared at The Ring inside, inert and lightly dusted with neon orange nacho blasted powder.
“-Just checking.” He nodded, giving the jar a shake, and when The Ring failed to respond, shoved it back into his backpack. “Whenever my Dad is done yelling at me for leaving this weekend, I want him to take a look at that thing. He’s a jackass but I don’t think there’s a person that knows more about cursed artifacts than him. ‘Cept maybe Yugi’s grandpa.”
“Yeah, but he knows more about their resale value than how they work.” Yugi sighed. “You guys good? Because we still need to find Joey.”
“sh*t.” Shouted Tristan, jumping to his feet. “Left, right?”
“Right! I mean, yes, left!” Sputtered Bakura, scrambling to his feet and jogging after Tristan. “Er, while I’m confessing to upsetting secrets, my name isn’t Ryou Bakura.”
“Dude, I don’t care if it’s Countess Boochie Flagrante, You can tell us after we’ve found Joey.” grunted Tristan, grabbing Bakura’s arm and pulling him to the front of the pack. “You go in front, you’re the one that can actually see and smell where we’re going.”
“Come on, if they’re going to run I’ll make sure we keep up.” Téa sighed, scooping Yugi up and balancing him on her hip as she sprinted after Tristan and Bakura. Yugi yelped when she grabbed him, blushing furiously as he had to wrap his arm and legs around her to hang on.
Yugi? Yami asked from over Téa’s shoulder, having to float more horizontally to mentally keep up after them. What’s a ‘Vampire’?
*
“Seto?”
“Miss Valentine?”
“What are we doing up here?” Mai sighed, sitting down on a rock and pulling her boot off to rub her foot.
“Surveying the land.” he grunted, glaring at their view of the island from the cliff they were standing on. It did offer a rather nice view of the island.
But not the castle.
The place they were trying to go to.
“It’s okay kid, I was never in scouts either.” Mai nodded sympathetically.
Seto only gave an irritated grunt in reply.
“Look I won’t presume to know what kind of garbage parenting the former Mr. Kaiba inflicted on you guys but if Mokuba lived through that, he’s got the sense to lay low or generally stay the f*ck out of the way until he’s got help or a clear escape route, right?” She tried.
Seto’s eye twitched in the faint remnant of a wince. Nearly 60% of Mokuba’s entire life up to this point has been practice in the art of staying the f*ck out of the way of violent sociopaths. He knows to lay low. Seto attempted to reassure himself, but he was beginning to hear a bit of a hollow ring to his own voice.
“Right!” Mai continued, a veteran of the Dealing With Damaged People Wars. “So he’s probably fine, and it’s more important that we get there at all than in a hurry.”
“Hmpf.” Seto grunted again, less antagonistically.
Mai nodded, taking a water bottle out of her backpack. She was fairly agreeable company all told- She did talk incessantly, but didn’t try to cajole him into participating in the conversation with constant ‘You know what I mean?’s or ‘What do you think?’s, so her voice faded into an almost pleasant white noise beside him. Actually, not quite. She talked about perfumes for what- for f*ck’s sake, almost two hours- but she knew a lot about the neurology of scent and how the human sense of smell is very poor compared to most animals and even some plants, but it’s intimately connected to the emotional processing centers of the brain, and the mechanisms that control memory, which was why scents can cause intense flashbulb memories like nothing else. Which is interesting and I should look into that more because the virtual world has rendered roses but no smells. I could’ve skipped the bit about how she always studied while chewing strawberry gum in school and then again when taking tests and now, whenever she needs to file taxes, she has to go track down that specific brand of strawberry gum- Her lecture style is rambling and perhaps over-personal but her sense of practical application of theory is impeccable.
It’s kind of like listening to an informative podcast playing in another room, or a university lecture, but out in the hall. Maybe not ideal for note-taking and- what was it she said about the hypothalamus? There I go, floating along like an even more air-headed balloon, instead of paying attention. Mokuba’s got the instincts to stay sharp about his surroundings, why the hell didn’t I ever develop that? Is it brain damage? Or the fact that even if I stayed sharp and tried to avoid him he’d hunt me down anyway?
“Did your family ever beat you?” He asked, and then squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered, once again, that humans couldn’t telepathically broadcast their lines of reasoning and that he probably sounded like a deranged lunatic again.
“Oh yeah, my mother was vicious .” Mai laughed, apparently unperturbed. “Purse, shoes, spatula covered in hot oil- if you pissed her off, she’d wallop you with whatever she had in her hand, no matter how dangerous it was. Yours?”
“Gozaboro had a designated riding crop.” Seto nodded.
“Hm, safer, but an extra layer of psychological cruelty!” She considered. “Did he ever do the thing where, when you finally got taller than him, he’d flinch and cower every time you even looked annoyed, because he expected you to hit him now that you were bigger than him? Or was my Mom a unique piece of sh*t in that respect?”
“I was still shorter than him when he died.” Seto shrugged. “But I don’t think he would have cowered. He would have expected me to hit him back, but he wouldn’t have cowered.”
“I always thought it was so f*cking rude.” Mai nodded. “Just because you’re a huge piece of sh*t, and raised me like a huge piece of sh*t, doesn’t mean I actually grew up to be a huge piece of sh*t. You piece of sh*t.”
Seto huffed a laugh, leaning on a nearby tree. “I think I may have grown up to be more like him than I want.”
“I mean, we all inherit things- that’s just how humans are, monkey see, monkey do. I hold myself to a lot of extremly high standards- other people call it being vain as hell- like she did and definitely inherited her bougie tastes, but I don’t f*cking hit kids. It’s fine- laudable, even!- to take whatever things a sh*t parent did right and leave the rest.”
Seto was silent for a long time again.
“ Do you hit your brother?” she asked bluntly, in case he had missed the point.
“NO!” he shouted, rounding on her. “I LOVE MOKUBA! HE’S THE ONLY GOOD THING I HAVE IN THIS WORLD!”
“Okay, so good job there.” Mai nodded. “...Kinda get the impression you’ve got a ‘but’ coming though.”
Seto snarled at her, but she didn’t flinch. They stared at the landscape in silence for a while, the only sound the ever-present ocean breeze, birds, and distant hum of holographic arenas. Seto continued to bristle, but Mai only looked bored, and he gave up with a heavy sigh and sat down on another rock.
“I- I use him. It’s never been for my benefit alone, it’s always been for his good too but. I used him to gain majority control of KaibaCorp. I used him to design Kaibaland. I used him to get us the hell out of that orphanage.” Seto muttered. “I don’t think I’ve ever done anything he wouldn’t have agreed to, but. I never asked.”
Mai continued to regard him with a distant interest.
“Why the f*ck am I even telling you this?” He growled, glaring at her.
“Not sure, really.” She shrugged, examining her nails. “...But if I were going to hazard a guess, this is the first time you’ve hung out with an actual peer- someone else from a rich, politically powerful family with nasty, abusive dynamics, and an interest in the same games- card and financial- as you.”
“Then why aren’t you telling me your worst habits?”
“Because, when you were leaning in, I was getting out, and I’ve had a few more years to develop a more well-rounded social circle. It’s sanded down some of the edges. But, fair’s fair, so here’s my nasty little secret-” She finished glaring at her nails and leaned closer to him. “-I genuinely loved Max. He was the only family member I had growing up that actually listened to me or wanted to take me on vacations or really gave a damn about my happiness- and I’m including Cici in that. She tried, but she was dealing with the same sh*t I was and didn’t have the wherewithal. And I’m really, really self-interested. Probably pathologically so if I’m honest, so if Max had taken me in after Cici died, I would absolutely be up in that castle with him, doing God-Knows-What to your brother. If I’m a better person, it’s only the luck of the draw.”
Seto stared at her for a minute, feeling like he’d spun an internal wheel of chance about the appropriate reaction to have here, rather than being able to think of a logical response. Eventually, the wheel slowed, then stopped.
“I can respect that.” He decided.
Mai laughed, high and sharp, like a hyena- “Okay, that works?” She giggled, “-And I can respect being a bit of a sh*t sibling because you had half your emotional IQ points literally beaten out of you, but bringing the Wrath Of God when push comes to shove. Want to go aggressively be terrible people in Max’s personal space?”
Seto was about to answer when he heard a pathetic sort of wheezing noise behind them. Staggering up the path they had been taking was a small, black, and absolutely wretched looking little animal. It had four legs, two pointed ears and a tail, but-
“Is that… I mean it sorta looks like a dog?” Seto glared at it.
“I- I’m not sure actually.” Said Mai, co*cking her head at it.
It had the broad characteristics of a canine, but something about the eyes- too human, bloodshot and bagged, like it was hungover.
...Bark? It said.
Seto and Mai looked at each other. Slowly, Mai reached into her bag and pulled out an expandable baton. Seto picked up his briefcase.
The ‘dog’ flinched, started to run, stopped when it realized Mai was going to cut it off, turned around, ran back the way it came, stopped again when Seto blocked its way, rotated twice more, then flung itself on its back, tail wagging furiously, sharp teeth pulled back in a pitiful grin.
Seto and Mai stared down at it, then at each other, then back at it.
“...It is wearing a collar.” Seto pointed out, reaching down and picking the small black animal up by the scruff of its neck and the glittering golden collar it wore.
“Maybe it’s just ugly?” Mai frowned in confusion at the animal, which glared in irritation back. “Like, one of those really inbred teacup chihuahuas.”
The Alleged Dog scoffed.
“Maybe it belongs to someone in the castle? Not sure if Pegasus is the terrible little purse dog kind of guy, but it wouldn’t surprise me.” Seto shrugged, shifting his grip to hold it properly, the ‘Dog’ melting onto his chest a bit.
“Eh, he was more of a silk flowers instead of houseplants kind of guy. But I could see his staff sneaking the poor thing onto the island. Hey? Which way is home?” She patted its head encouragingly.
The Dog shifted its head and Pointed (™) up the trail with its nose like one of those dogs from the oil paintings of Stags At Bay and Rabbits At Bay that creepy old rich bastards always had in their smoking rooms, but did not actually attempt to get up from Seto’s arms.
“...Okay then?” Mai shrugged, turning to grab her bag before walking back up the hill with Seto.
If the circ*mstances had been less dire, it might have been a very pleasant hike. The weather was temperate, the sun cheerful, the scenery picturesque. Seto wasn’t even bad company, really. Silent, perhaps even stodgy, but he didn’t interrupt her or blow her off, like most people did when she started talking too m uch. Well, not quite- he was definitely zoned out there for a while, but he does listen. He waited to climb those rocks or take that sharp bend in the trail until I’d finished my sentence, instead of just leaving. Says “Hm” and “Uh-huh” probably a lot more than he realizes. Not exactly the most articulate conversationalist but the attention is nice... Kinda weird that he does make conversational encouragements though. Most men would tell their sons to either speak up or shut up, God knows mine did. Maybe it’s from Mokuba? He can’t ignore his brother but at the end of the day he’s tired and emotionally overwhelmed and out of words so it’s “Yeah” and “Okay” instead of real sentences. I mean I definitely talk too much but it feels wrong to just grunt or shrug. I wonder if it’s a sibling thing-
“Does Mokuba just. Not shut up sometimes?” She asked, then winced as she heard the words come out of her mouth. “-Sorry! I was just thinking about how-”
“Oh yeah. He tells me all about his day, the secretary’s day, the days of his online friends, that bug he saw on the window, anything he read in the newspaper, what the clouds outside are like…” Seto had a faint smile of fondness as he stared ahead of them, unconsciously stroking The ‘Dog’’s ears.
Mai smirked a bit.
“What?” He glared.
“Nothing. You’re cute.” She giggled and he rolled his eyes. “I was wondering because you’re the big brother and I was the Little Sister, and I always talked Cici’s ear off and she did the same thing you do where you just give one word answers or grunt. Must be an older sibling thing.”
“Hm.” Said Seto.
“Just like that!” She grinned and he gave her an extremely aggravated sidelong glance.
“...What was she like?” Seto eventually asked.
“Cici? Hm. Okay, definitely some nostalgia-colored glasses on here but- well, She was 15 years older than me and we have seven brothers between us- Italian Catholics, you know how it is- so at that age difference she was almost more like a really close aunt than my sister.”
“Ah.” Nodded Seto. “That’s reassuring.”
“It is?”
“I was worried that Pegasus had married someone much, much younger than him.”
“OH! No- they were almost the same age though- I think he’s only a few months older, if that.” Mai laughed. “Hence why I still think of him as ‘Uncle’ Max, even if he’s my Brother-In-Law. But they were both very kind to me. Mom was a full-fledged alcoholic by the time they married, so from like, preschool and up, I lived with them more than my own parents. She was really, really smart- Pre-law, graduated Summa Cum Laude- and TERRIBLE at housework. She could burn cereal and actually blew up the dryer once because she didn’t know about the lint trap. But kind. I used to talk her ear off every time I came home from school, and she helped me pick out all my outfits so they color-coordinated.”
“Were you a frilly dresses and hair ribbons girl or a glitter sneakers and Lisa Frank shirts girl?” Seto teased.
“...Neither, actually. I- Nevermind, it’s not important.” Mai sighed. “Max was devoted to her. He was in school for Art and painted like a Madman, so he did all the cooking and cleaning and read me bedtime stories- he did great voices, especially for the monsters. Sometimes I think- If things had gone just a bit different…”
“Hm.” Seto nodded. In his arms, the little Dog had rolled completely over and was now rapidly turning into a Picasso piece as Seto unconsciously scratched its tummy. “You and Pegasus were close then?”
“I lived in his house for almost seven years.”
“So he might recognize you, even if you’ve changed your name?” Seto asked.
Mai opened her mouth to answer, closed it, then frowned at Seto.
“What? It’s a tactical concern.” he glared back.
“...What the f*ck you already know he’s my brother-in-law and honestly that’s the bigger deal.” She sighed. “-And if he still has any of the pictures in the castle you’ll probably see. Max won’t recognize me because we haven’t seen each other face-to-face in over a decade, and the last time he saw me, I was still a Boy.”
Seto blinked a few times, then looked Mai up and down.
“Yeah, yeah-” Mai waved at him.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to go on HRT until your mid teens?” Seto asked. “-Unless you’ve had surgery? In which case your doctor did an excellent job.”
It was Mai’s turn to blink in surprise. “I didn’t start until 16, because that’s when I got a real job and could afford it, but Dr. Hazama did most of the work. Lovely man! Very Expensive, but discreet and very attentive to detail.” She beamed.
Seto nodded, then returned his gaze to the ground, thinking. They walked in silence a bit longer.
“-I’m not going to be mad if you have questions or whatever.” Said Mai. “I’m just amazed you already know about how it’s done.”
“...Does Dr. Hazama also do hysterectomies?” Seto asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“I mean, I assume so? I got his name from a friend that had him do his reconstructive surgery after a magic show gone wrong. If he can put a man’s whole face back on I’m sure he can take out a uterus. But he’s really expensive and hard to book for something that routine, I booked him because he keeps his mouth shut and records locked up like Fort Knox-” She stopped mid-sentence, then turned to Seto and looked him up and down as he gave her an impressively threatening glower.
The penny dropped, and Mai gasped with delight.
“Not. A. Word. To. Anyone.” Seto growled. “I work in Children’s Entertainment, technically. There’s nothing wrong with me, but there are plenty of ‘concerned parents’ that will go off the f*cking rails if they even get a whiff that I’m anything but Unoffensively Cisgender and the Plausibly-Hetero kind of Asexual.”
“Oh, not a soul, not a soul!” Mai promised, crossing her heart. “You’ve got posture and voice nailed, by the way. Lots of practice?”
Seto smirked a bit, straightening up despite the Dog’s protests. “I was looking up acting lessons at age nine and I’ve been on Testosterone since I was twelve.”
“...That’s a bit early. I thought boys had to wait because they could get bone and growth spurt problems?” She hummed with concern.
“I’m shaped like a scarecrow for a reason.” Seto shrugged. “I got on early at my own insistence, but I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing again if I had a second chance. I wanted to peel my skin off sometimes, it was so bad.”
“Oh, mood.” Mai nodded. “Gozaboro sounds like he was a douchecanoe though, or am I misremembering when you were adopted?”
“Oh no, he was all for me starting early- Gozaboro’s biological son died in an accident, and I was taken in to be modeled as his replacement. As long as he was feeding, rearing and educating a ‘store-bought’ son, aftermarket modifications were an entirely tertiary issue.” Seto shrugged. “There was no small amount of Good-Old-Fashioned misogyny involved too. It was much better for me to be an after-the-fact male than any kind of female, to his mind.”
“You must be a hoot in therapy.” Mai laughed. The Dog snored happily, having gotten completely comfortable in Seto’s arms, where he was still incessantly stroking it. “Ever consider getting an emotional support animal?”
“No. Why?” Seto frowned at her in confusion.
*
“Okay, so the Good News is, this IS on the map.” Said Tristan.
“What’s the Bad News?” Sighed Yugi.
“They go up for at least twelve stories and there’s no elevator.” groaned Tristan.
“No skipping leg day, I Guess.” sighed Bakura. “Joey’s definitely up there, I can smell his sneakers now.”
“We’ll stop every floor if we need to so you can breathe.” Tristan patted his shoulder. “It’s Yugi I’m worried about.”
Yugi nodded, shaking his as-needed/emergency inhaler, which was blue instead of the daily, which was red, a color-coding problem that had always annoyed him. “One minute-” He inhaled the medicine, wheezing a bit. “-yeah, the tunnel is pretty dusty and that’s really bothering my lungs.”
“Piggyback.” said Téa, kneeling down in front of him.
“TÉA!” Yugi yelped, blushing furiously. “I, uh- I mean I can’t ask you to schlep me up twe-”
“Yugi O. Moto, I did not develop the quads of a Goddess to NOT carry my friends when they need it. Get on.”
“Ooooh, you got Middle-Initial’d” teased Tristan.
“Your middle name starts with O?” Bakura asked, curious.
“Do NOT try to guess my middle name.” Yugi growled, flipping them off before awkwardly stepping closer to Téa and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, grunting a bit as his broken arm was compressed.
“Oswald?” Tried Tristan.
“Oliver?” asked Bakura.
“Orion?” asked Téa, grabbing his thighs and hoisting him up with no particular struggle on her part but a charming squeak on his.
“f*ck all of you.” he groaned, hiding his face in Téa’s shoulder.
“Later.” she murmured and he turned bright red again.
I thought we wanted to- Yami began.
YAMI I AM ALREADY FIGHTING A BONER-BY-PROXIMITY HERE, I DO NOT NEED AN ALPHABETIZED LIST OF POTENTIAL SEX ACTS WITH TÉA, OR I WILL ACTUALLY DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT. Yugi thought furiously, while also trying to think of the least sexy things possible. Green beans. Mrs. Hawthorne from second grade. A Cardboard box…
Alright... Placated Yami.
Yugi sighed with relief.
I don’t actually know the current alphabet! Yami grinned. Cunnili- he began to tick off his fingers.
“NO-!” Yugi snapped.
“Translation?” Téa asked.
“Yami’s being horny about being in physical contact with you so if you feel something poking your back, yell at him.” Yugi muttered. They were already half a flight ahead of Tristan and Bakura, who were continuing to guess his middle name with no success.
“The only thing poking me is the Puzzle, hang on.” Téa grunted, stopping to set Yugi down. “Here-Loop the rope over my neck so the Puzzle is hanging in front of me instead of jabbing me in the back.”
“Oh! Okay.” Yugi apologized, following her instructions before wrapping his arm around her shoulder again. “Is that better?”
“Yeah- the puzzle is mostly in my cleavage but that’s way better than in my spine.” She nodded.
It’s very cozy. Yami noted.
“WHAT? Wait, you really look like that?” Téa laughed, turning her head to where Yami was floating beside them.
Yes? Yami said, looking down at himself. Is there something wrong with this?
“I just wasn’t expecting you to look like Yugi with better posture.” She giggled. Behind her, Yugi rolled his eyes.
Well, sort of- Said Yami, floating a bit ahead of Téa to speak to her properly. I share clothing and a skin tone with Yugi when he’s awake. Seto thinks that if a brain had to deal with more than one image of the self at once, it’d cause too much stress, so I sort of… automatically default to Yugi’s appearance when we’re both awake.
“If he comes to visit while I’m asleep, he does look pretty similar. Darker skin and dressed like an ancient king, but we do have the same hair.” Yugi added.
“That’s kind of adorable.” giggled Téa.
“WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT?” called Tristan below them where he was waiting with Bakura while he caught his breath.
“IMPORTANT SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERY.” Téa called back. “IF MY HEAD IS INSIDE THE ROPE AS WELL AS YUGI’S I CAN SEE AND HEAR YAMI TOO.”
“COOL!” called Tristan. “Huh. Do you think if we got a big enough rope that we could all sit inside it and talk to Yami?” he pondered.
“That’s not the dumbest way I’ve heard to conduct a seance.” Bakura shrugged.
“Hey Bakura? Called Yugi. “If you’ve got the breath to spare- what was that about you not being ‘Bakura’?”
“Oh! I am ‘Bakura’ I’m just…” he waved his hands, trying to articulate. “My legal name is Bakura Blackwood.”
Tristan made a noise not unlike a bewildered cartoon dog, and Yugi leaned over to stare down at Bakura.
“Blackwood? Like, the f*cking Royal Wizards Blackwood?” Tristan gaped. “...Because yeah that’s 100% the kind of people that would get cursed with Hereditary Vampirism.”
“Unfortunately…” Bakura sighed.
“I’ve uh. Heard of your family?” Yugi winced. “-Mostly from Grandpa, who isn’t really an unbiased source…”
“If he told you they’re a bunch of murdering incestuous thieving bastards with a hand in every wicked plot or cruel industry of the last few centuries, he has a perfect understanding of them.” Bakura grunted, taking to the stairs again.
“Oh sh*t.” Yugi said.
“That bad, huh?” Téa had stopped on the next landing, waiting for Bakura. “I don’t really follow the royals or other celebrities so..?”
“The Blackwoods have been Royal Wizards since the Tudors, but the family goes back much further- They were well-established in the Thames Valley before writing was invented. Like everyone else involved in Monarchy, they’re a bunch of vile thugs.” He panted, leaning heavily on the railing as he climbed.
Um.
“Yami has a question.” Yugi translated.
“Oh! Pardon, British Monarchy! I’ve no idea what Ancient Egyptian methods of social control and acceptable forms of magical warfare were like, but your behavior last night belies a profound sense of conscience and concern for the welfare of others, so I highly doubt your worst days could hold a candle to even my family’s most civil moments.” Bakura waved, smiling apologetically. “For instance, you’ve been extremely apologetic and cautious with your possession of Yugi, and the whole reason I left home was that my father saddled me with The Ring with the intent of letting Necrophades grind my soul to dust so my father could take possession of my body!”
“WHAT?”
“WHAT?”
WHAT?
“WHAT?”
“Oh, he was Perfectly Aware of the presence of a bloodthirsty demon inside The Ring and forced it upon me shortly after my tenth birthday!” Bakura said with a light and airy cheeriness that the others were quickly learning was his preferred means of expressing incandescent rage, teeth bared in a snarl.
“You don’t have to explain everything right now if you don’t want to or need to save your breath.” Téa offered. “Or did you need to vent?”
“I- f*ck.” Bakura sighed, finally making it up to the landing where Téa was standing.
“Should I be carrying you?” Tristan asked as Bakura doubled over onto his knees.
“Should you have an inhaler along with your vampire meds?” Yugi asked.
“Yes, No, and Probably, respectively.” Bakura wheezed. “I just- It’s peculiar to say but Yugi and Tristan being this involved in Magical Bullsh*t- not that I’m lumping Yami in with my family but- It’s been a while where I can just say things like ‘body-transfer ritual sacrifice’ and the response is horror at My father’s antics and not ‘ body-transfer magic is real? ’ you know?” Bakura laughed weakly. “Er, sorry Téa-”
“Oh nah, I was about to say that, as much as that sucks ass and you shouldn’t have had to go through that, it's a bit of a relief to have a friend familiar enough with toxic family dynamics to say something like ‘my mom thinks that tattoos are a ‘sin’ so she spent like 4 hours last Monday screaming at me to strip naked and prove I hadn’t gotten one because she had a dream that I did’ and have some sympathy instead of hushed whispers that she might be mentally ill. Like, we’re WELL PAST THAT.”
“WHAT?”
WHAT?
“WHAT?”
“Exactly!” Bakura beamed.
“I’m gonna introduce her to my Brother-In-Law.” Nodded Tristan, offering Bakura a water bottle. “Full sleeves and back, most of his chest too. Pretty sure he has his ass and most of his legs inked too.”
“She might explode! I hope she explodes.” Téa sighed wistfully. “Unrelated question, when is your birthday? I ask so I can check if the day conflicts with rehearsal schedules or whatever.”
“Yes, of course. It’s September the Second The Second, 1980.” Bakura nodded, drinking from the water bottle and pointing to indicate they should keep going.
“HEEEY! You’re a Leap Day baby too!” Téa beamed, shifting Yugi on her back to offer Bakura a high-five. “I was born on April 7th-to-11th in ‘81!”
Leap Day? Yami asked.
“Oh yeah, sometimes the calendar sputters or loops or just gets blurry on the dates. Most of the time it just means a random day off from school.” shrugged Téa. “Bakura was born on a repeat day- It was September the second, and then at midnight, instead of turning the day over, all the clocks in the world said it was September Second again- that was just the one day repeat, right?”
“Yep.” Bakura nodded, leaning on Tristan instead of the rail this time. “It was September the third right after. You had a whole business week?”
“Yeah, that was an Uncertainty Event though- the date and even the day of the week straight-up vanished that time, and I was born in the middle of that, so my birthday is somewhere between April 7th and April 11th. I just celebrate the whole week.” She grinned.
Ah, yes. Yami nodded. Strange days like that were also an occasion to cancel work or extend a festival. We called them ‘Thoth’s Hangovers’.
Yugi and Téa both burst out laughing.
“We really need that bigger rope.” Tristan sighed.
“Thoth- the stork-headed guy? Was the God of Records and Scribes so Leap Days were called ‘Thoth’s hangovers’, because he was too hung over from partying to record the date.” Yugi giggled.
“That’s as good an explanation as any I’ve heard.” Tristan shrugged.
*
On the 4:15 to Plymouth, Thoth sneezed loudly, and a small cloud of feathers erupted from the heavy coat and Balaclava he was wearing, covering the bewildered conductor who was about to hand his ticket back.
“He’s allergic to paper.” Said Rebecca. “Makes him break out in feathers.”
*
“Jeez these stairs go on forever.” Tristan sighed. “I’ll admit, I’m honestly more worried about the Blackwood thing than the Vampire thing, but I’m also kind of relieved to learn your surname isn’t Ryou, actually.”
Bakura blinked at him in confusion. “…Why?” He asked slowly, pausing to lean on the railing.
Tristan laughed, freckled face flushing with embarrassment. “Okay so- First day you showed up in class, I thought you were the brother of the girl I kissed back in middle school come to beat my ass.” He explained, flipping off Téa as she snigg*red at him. “…I mean, you’re not related to a Ryou Amane, are you?”
Bakura froze, staring blankly at the stairs in front of him. “…Ah. Amane’s my sister.” He admitted sheepishly.
“f*ck!” Shouted Tristan. “I swear I thought that she thought that- You’re not gonna be weird, right? It was just a kiss. I’m sorry I made out with your sister. Like, not in a misogynist way, because she’s her own person and you don’t own her, but like- I thought we were on the same page but she seemed really surprised when I went in for the kiss and she kind of ran off after that and-” Tristan babbled, turning an incredible shade of scarlet and cringing.
“Er-” Bakura winced. “You did not kiss my sister.”
Tristan stared at him in confusion.
Bakura waved his hands furiously, trying to explain but only making some choking noises before finally figuring out where to start. “-Amane died about eight years ago.”
Tristan’s deeply confused expression intensified, then shifted to horror. Beside him, Téa and Yugi did some quick math, shared a look and decided to table that for now.
“You see-” Bakura attempted to explain before Tristan leapt past his words to his own conclusions.
“I MADE OUT WITH A GHOST??” Tristan shouted.
“No.” Bakura sighed, pinching the joint of his nose and brow. “I’m, well- as you can imagine, I had to leave home in a hurry and with no support from that quarter, so I’m. Not here legally . And it’s hard to find a place to stay as a tween on your own with no kind of documentation, and Amane and I are Twins- and it is ‘are’, you’re still A Twin even if your Twin dies- and we used to pretend to be each other all the time so when I found an all-girls boarding school in Pasadena with a shoddy records office that wouldn’t look too hard at any paperwork I gave them, I just… went as Amane.” He sighed.
Tristan continued to stare at him, uncomprehending.
“All I had to do when I transferred to Domino was change my name and gender with some white-out and run everything through a photocopier.” Bakura laughed, running his hand through his hair in a nervous tic. “...If it’s any consolation, it was a rather nice kiss. I just sort of panicked afterwards and-”
“THAT WAS MY FIRST KISS YOU ASSHOLE!” Tristan roared.
“Tristan, don’t be hom*ophobic.” Téa glared.
“I’M NOT A hom*oPHOBE, I’M-” Tristan sputtered furiously for a minute, stomping up the final flight of stairs before rounding on his heel and pointing an accusatory finger at Bakura. “-IF IT WAS NICE, WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?? WE COULD HAVE BEEN MAKING OUT THIS WHOLE TIME!”
*
“THAT WAS MY FIRST KISS YOU ASSHOLE!”
“Huh?” Joey looked up from the duel as a voice echoed through the tunnels. “Tristan?”
“-WE COULD HAVE BEEN MAKING OUT THIS WHOLE TIME!”
“TRISTAN!” Joey shouted with delight. “HEY! QUIT MAKIN’ OUT AND COME HELP ME ALREADY!”
The gang bolted into the room, bellowing Joey’s name, Tristan immediately bolting to Sid and menacing him with the flashlight, and Bakura launched himself at Zygor with the manic fervor that only theater majors and extremely neurotic purse dogs can manage. Téa, thankfully, was prevented from immediately kicking Keith’s soul out through his nostrils because she was still carrying Yugi.
“AY, WOAH! WE’RE FRIENDS NOW IT’S COOL!!” Joey shouted.
“We are?” Asked Bonz.
Joey reconsidered. “-WE’VE REACHED A STALEMATE AND THEY DON’T DESERVE TO BE KICKED IN HALF. Anyway, how’s you?”
“Been better, been worse.” said Yugi. “Yourself?”
“Been better, been worse.” Joey nodded. “What’s this about makin’ out?”
“YOU HAVE MISSED THE CRAZIEST OF CRAZIES.” shouted Tristan, lowering the flashlight and pointing at Bakura but not actually letting go of Sid. “Okay- Bakura’s a Vampire, also his whole family is evil wizards and his dad tried to magic him out of his own body, Téa’s mom is even crazier than I remember, if you and Yugi both have your heads in the rope around the puzzle you can both see and hear Yami, also since Bakura ran away from home he’s not here legally and for a while he was living at a girl’s boarding school under the name of his twin sister AND GUESS WHO I ACCIDENTALLY GAVE MY FIRST KISS TO? Oh hey it’s Bandit Keith.”
“Oh boy.” Yugi sighed. “Mr. Howard? A Word?”
“Oh hell.” Keith groaned, but waved Yugi and Téa over, and for Sid and Zygor to retreat to the far side of the arena.
“You went to Saint Clarita’s?” Joey asked, leaning over to peer at Bakura.
“I did! Looked rather fetching in the uniform, I’m told.”
“Yeah Tristan, you got lucky. There are definitely worse people at Saint Clarita’s you could have made out with.”
“I’m not gonna kiss a Nun Joey.” Tristan rolled his eyes.
“No, dipsh*t.” Joey glared, drawing the card for his turn. “My sister goes there.”
Tristan blinked a few times in confusion. “…SERENITY??”
“Yeah, if you’d pulled the dumbass maneuver you told me about on her, she would have beat your ass into next Tuesday.”
“…Not Serenity Krieger?” Sputtered Bakura.
“Yeah, she’s been using Mom’s maiden name since the divorce.” Joey shrugged, shuffling the order of the cards in his hand. “You know her?
Bakura stared at Joey in disbelief. “…I’m sorry, Serenity f*cking Krieger is your SISTER??”
“I mean we don’t look that similar but you seem really surprised by this.” Joey co*cked his head at Bakura.
“I’m just- You’re such a nice, responsible young man, with a miniatures hobby and a paper route. Serenity threw a nun out of a second-story window!” said Bakura.
Joey slammed his hand of cards down on the playtop and turned to face Bakura, shaking his finger. “FIRST OF ALL, SISTER MARY AGNES HAD IT f*ckING COMING-”
“Oh she absolutely did-” Bakura agreed.
“Bakura, you know that Joey used to be in a Gang, right?” Yugi called, having confirmed that Mokuba was alright and hidden. “He mugged me once! He even dragged Tristan into it!” He explained, cheerfully.
“OH!” Said Bakura, immensely pleased. “That sounds much more like her.”
“Alright, This is some wildly entertaining soap opera sh*t but uh. There’s a duel on.” interrupted Keith.
“Right!” Said Joey, picking his cards back up. “Hey Bakura? You like creepy sh*t right?”
“I do!” Bakura chirped.
“Do you play zombie decks?” asked Joey.
“No, because I’m not a moron that plays a deck that gets bef*ckened by like, the third most common magic card there is.” Bakura pouted. “There’s more to a good horror deck than gore.”
Joey looked down at his hand, back at Bakura and then back at his hand. “...is it Shield and Sword?”
“HOW LONG HAS THAT CARD BEEN IN YOUR HAND JOEY?” Demanded Yugi.
“Uuuuuh sincethefirstdraw -ANYWAY, I PLAY SHIELD AND SWORD WHICH MAKES YOUR MONSTERS’ ATTACK AND DEFENSE VALUES SWAP PLACES, AND TIME WIZARD, IN ATTACK MODE.”
“f*ck!” Shouted Bonz.
“LANG- Aw, f*ckit.” Keith groaned.
The Zombies exploded in a gleefully gory splatter of fetid guts as the Time Wizard smacked them with his Time Staff with a great deal more enthusiasm than a mere timepiece might be expected to possess.
“That was a good game!” Said Joey, encouragingly thumping Bonz on the shoulder as his platform descended. “Not one I ever want to play again, but I learned a lot!”
“I’m sorry about your friend.” Bonz muttered, looking away.
“Yeeeah, sorry about the whole kidnapping thing. Must’ve used up all my clever plans last year, when I figured out that I could get hired as Pegasus’ gardener and spy on him.” Keith apologized, offering Joey a hand.
“That’s okay, my last good idea was all the way back in ‘97 when I figured out that I have really pretty legs and if I stuffed the right cut of Bikini top with water balloons it looks like real boobies and that I could make regular money at the Beach Beauty Pageants they hold at Nishikinohama Boardwalk.”
“...Do I have any friends that aren’t cross-dressers?” Tristan groaned.
“Leather Goth Knows No Gender.” Yugi nodded solemnly. “Besides you already saw me in fishnets for the Hex Girls concert we snuck into last year.”
The only pants I’ve worn are Yugi’s and I do not like them. Too restrictive. Nodded Yami, attempting to imagine a linen skirt and failing.
“I don’t know if it counts as cross-dressing but I get all my pants in the Men’s Department because they’re the only ones long enough and have better pockets.” Shrugged Téa.
“Wait, you were here all winter?” Yugi asked Keith.
“Yeah, doin’ the Topiary garden, Sneakin’ around the castle, takin’ notes.” Keith shrugged.
Yugi gasped with delight. “YOU KNOW PEGASUS’ DECK LIST!”
Keith blinked a few times.
“OH sh*t, I KNOW MOST OF PEGASUS’ DECK LIST!” he realized. “sh*t, f*ck I shoulda taken better notes uuuuuuh- Okay, I have a partial list somewhere… I think I left that notebook up in the shed. Got distracted making notes on the value of all the art and furniture he’s collected up there, whoops… Let’s see…” Keith frowned at the ceiling, scratching his chin. “-First thing is that he runs a 50 card deck, and some of the cards are themed, but it’s like… he’s got more than one theme?” Keith scratched his chin.
“How so?” Yugi asked. Behind him, Joey was at the ready with his pen and notebook of Complaints (™).
“Uh… Okay, he’s got like? Duplicates? Like He’s got Ryu-Ran, but he’s also got Toon Ryu-Ran? Whole buncha Cartoon-themed cards actually, uh… Toon Goblin Attack Force, Toon Blue Eyes White Dragon. f*ck me if I know what they’re about though.”
“The ‘Toon’ series was the first ‘themed’ run of cards Pegasus ever did with Duel Monsters. They went out of print fast, because it wasn’t until his second themed run of Dragon cards and getting picked up by Sorcerers Of The Shoreline for distribution that the game really got popular.” Said Yugi, quoting his internal encyclopedia of the Game. “Given that he’s the creator, and they’re the first run, I think they might be particular favorites of his.”
“He does have like, a whole-ass Secret Library of old-timey comic books in his castle. Remember that weird Funny Bunny cartoon? Used to be on Re-runs on the Warner Sisters Channel?” asked Keith.
“Oh yeah. Gave me the creeps as a child.” shuddered Bakura.
“THAT gave you the creeps?” Glared Joey.
“Yeah, he’s obsessed with it. Definitely has a thing for Vintage ‘Toons.” Nodded Ketih. “I suppose I was glad it was just some weird kids’ show and not like. The kind of p*rn I'd have to report to the FBI?”
“That’s a horrifying possibility I had not considered before and don’t want to consider now.” Téa groaned.
“The Toon cards were based around a spell card called Toon World, which was broken as hell. It’s like Sanctuary In The Sky and costs 1000 life points to play, but it basically made whoever controlled its monsters indestructible and able to do bullsh*t like attack twice per turn, turn the opponent’s monsters against them, give themselves heaps of life points, and the UGLIEST ‘cartoon’ versions of the monsters possible. The run was… lemme think…” Yugi frowned.
“I mean who knows what was in the run besides some of those weirdo game shop people who memorize every card in the game?” Laughed Keith.
“Toon World, Toon Terror, Toon Table of Contents, Toon Rollback, Toon Mask, Toon Page Flip, Toon Kingdom, Shine Castle, Toon Defense, Toon Briefcase, Toon Bookmark, Shadow Toon, Mimicat, Comic Hand, Toon Summoned Skull, Toon Canon Soldier, Toon Mermaid Archer, Toon Masked Sorcerer, Toon Goblin Attack Force, Toon Alligator, Toon Harpy Lady, Toon Gemini Elf, Toon Ryu-Ran, and Toon Blue Eyes White Dragon, which is WEIRD, because it came out before the non-toon version of the Blue Eyes.” Yugi ticked the cards off on his fingers, oblivious to Keith.
“Keith, meet the weirdest of those game shop people who memorized all the cards in this game.” Said Téa, smugly.
“Okay that’s 25 cards.” Nodded Joey, writing them down in the notebook. “What else has he got?”
“f*ckin’ uhh…” Keith gaped for a moment at Yugi. “Polymerization, everyone’s got Polymerization. I think he’s got a Dragon Capture Jar and- oh! Some kind of ritual Summons card- Black… something Ritual?”
“Black Magic Ritual?” Tried Yugi.
“No, but close. It had two cups and some swirly smoke going into a f*cked up jar?”
“That’s what most of the Black Ritual Cards look like.” Yugi sighed. “I want to know because they’re all to summon *Specific* High-Level Monsters and that’ll tell me a lot about his deck. Black Luster Ritual?”
“No, no- Ah, dammit, it’s on the tip of my tongue…” Keith growled, snapping his fingers.
“Back Illusion Ritual?” Tried Joey.
“THAT’S THE BITCH!” Shouted Keith. “Bro are you psychic or something?”
“No, my family’s mostly Norwegian and German.” Shrugged Joey.
“...You’re sure?” Yugi frowned.
“Really sure. I wrote it down as BIR in my notes that I left back in the shed and I was try’na remember what it stood for, but yah. That’s it. Black Illusion Ritual. Why?”
“Hm. It’s one of the few I don’t know the corresponding monsters for, actually.” Yugi frowned. “Nearly all the Black Ritual Cards got banned from casual tournaments immediately, not because they’re broken, but they’re rare so people kept stealing them to resell by literally mugging other duelists.”
*
Odion had nearly separated the Crab from Hodgekiss when he sneezed violently, dropping the pliers and the furious crustacean back onto the Ghouls’ only Forklift Operator.
“You’ve been sneezing a lot today-” Noted Marik, shoving more towels between Hodgekiss and the crab. “-You’re not developing a shellfish allergy, are you?”
*
“That’s the dumbest reason I’ve ever heard for a card getting banned.” Groaned Keith.
“Uh. Anyone have cell service down here? I feel like if Pegasus has a Dragon Capture Jar AND a Toon Blue Eyes, that’s information Seto should learn BEFORE he confronts Pegasus.” Said Téa, looking up from her cell phone.
“Hm.” Keith took out his phone. “Nope!”
“No dice.” Sighed Yugi, putting his phone away. “Almost out of battery too.”
“Well, the fastest way out is through Cam ‘n’ Hector’s arena, which is that way. Tell them I sent you and that it’s Mystery Skulls Emergency Business and they’ll let you right through. ‘S up the left, there’s a little maze before it but just take every right turn you can and it’ll spit you out. Or scream.” Keith pointed. “I’ll go check on the shrimp, you find cell service or his brother.”
“Thanks!” Said Yugi.
“Huh. Pegasus DID make a maze that follows the right-hand rule.” said Tristan. “Disappointing, really.”
“GREAT LET’S GO I HATE THIS ARENA. SMELL YA LATER KEITH, YOU’VE BEEN A BRO.” Shouted Joey, snapping his notebook shut and grabbing Yugi in one arm and pulling Bakura after him in the other.
“Sorry, we don’t want to stick around in case Pegasus sends his goons here since the duel arena data just revealed Joey is down here.” Yugi apologized from over Joey’s shoulder.
“Oh! Yeah no worries, Cam clipped the Data line to both our arenas this morning so Pegasus wouldn’t come snooping on Bonz’s duels and Hector wanted to check out some sort of technical problem with their arena!” Keith grinned, giving them a thumbs up. “He has no clue you’re down here.”
“Oh thank f*ck!” sighed Tristan. “I didn’t want to get into another gunfight in the dark with ricochets to worry about.”
“Wait, Another Gunfight ?” Keith asked, wide-eyed with concern.
“YEAH THEY REALLY SUCK ALMOST AS MUCH AS THIS ARENA WHICH WE ARE LEAVING RIGHT NOW.” demanded Joey, hauling Yugi and Bakura after him.
Keith stared blankly after them as they vanished into the darkness. Some people. Everyone’s got problems, but those kids’ problems have problems.
“C’mon Skulls, we gotta go get Mokuba so y’all can get on the grocery boat.” Said Keith, rounding on his heel and trying to herd his protegés down the other tunnel.
“AW COME ON.” Whined Bonz.
“NO WHINING! MOVE!” Barked Keith
“c*ntwaffles.” Muttered Bonz.
“LANGUAGE!!” Bellowed Keith.
*
In the tunnel on the way to whoever “Cam ‘n’ Hector” were, Yugi managed to extract himself from Joey’s haphazard grip, and Tristan got everyone back into line.
“Marching order is Key you guys.” He sighed, sweeping the flashlight around the tunnel to check for traps at regular intervals.
“We’re not in a Tabletop Game Tristan.” Bakura teased. “I promise, it won’t be important unless you guys decide to play Monster World with me again.”
“Oh yeah, how’s that coming?” Yugi asked.
“The Parasite might have forgotten my Vampire Medication, but It did bring my notebook with the draft character sheets and Dice, so if we have a couple spare hours you can find out!” Bakura smiled cheerfully.
“Right! So you’s got vampirism?” Joey asked, throwing a companionable arm over Bakura’s shoulder. “I thought you had- whatsit called? The Autism?”
“I mean I’m Autistic too, but that generally doesn’t make people allergic to sunlight or suddenly crave human blood.” Bakura replied.
“Ah, right. I knew I was mixing it up with something else.” Joey nodded, then frowned, “...Do you need blood?”
“Well, Vampirism does refer to any condition that creates a need for the patient to consume blood, but until we know which specific condition I have, I don’t know if I need Human Blood specifically, or if I can just use beef blood or-”
“No, I mean do you need blood Right Now ? Because I got lots!” Joey said, helpfully pointing at his jugular.
“...Your generosity is boundless and humbling Joey.” Bakura sighed, fondly. “But just offering your throat to someone is an exceptionally bad idea.”
“Yeah, don’t you watch Saturday morning cartoons?” Yugi teased. “They have PSAs every other commercial about how to avoid blood-borne infections.”
“No Yugi, I have a Paper Route.” Joey rolled his eyes. “I get up at two, get home at eight and pass the f*ck out until it’s dinnertime at your house.”
“You should probably tell Mrs. Kivley about that- she thinks you’re sleeping through first period because you don’t care about Literature.” said Téa.
“I like books!” Joey protested. “I just don’t care for this Castle Of Otranto sh*t.”
“‘Tis a classic, nay, the founding novel of the Gothic Genre Joey!” Bakura protested.
“Yeah, but it’s a real f*ckin’ downer.” he muttered, kicking a rock down the tunnel. “-Sorry, I’m just. I know you like ghosts and graves and skeletons ‘n stuff, but it freaks me out.”
“It’s not everyone’s cup of tea.” Bakura agreed. “I find the Macabre… comforting, I guess.”
“How?” Joey squinted at Bakura in the darkness behind Tristan’s flashlight.
“I- well, not to be even more of a downer, but the reason I was able to impersonate Amane in middle school was that she died when I was ten.” Bakura sighed. “She was standing less than a hand’s width away from me when the… accident happened.” He said in a tone that indicated what happened was far from an accident, but he didn’t want to elaborate.
“It was like- nobody wanted to admit what had happened. She was buried the next day and her room was converted into a guest bedroom by the end of the week. Mother and Father didn’t even say her name out loud after that.” Bakura mumbled, leaning into Joey’s side as they walked. “So Ghosts- and ‘creepy’ things like graves and horror stories like Otranto are… an admission that it happened. And being close to death is. It’s like being close to her.”
“Jesus f*ck.” muttered Joey, squeezing Bakura to his side and nuzzling his hair.
"Is that why you were writing a letter to her when we came over to play the Monster World game that The Parasite took over?" Téa asked.
"M-hm. I feel like I'm being a sh*t brother if I don't keep her updated. Like telling the bees, I guess."
"Bees?" Asked Yugi.
Tradition holds that a hive of bees must be informed of any deaths, marriages or births in the family that keeps them, or they will no longer feel welcome and leave. Nodded Yami. Very bad for your melons.
"The same in England." Bakura nodded. "...Wait."
"Yeah, how are you hearing Yami?" Yugi frowned
"My first guess would be The Ring, but Tristan has it in lockup." Bakura frowned.
"Maybe his broadcast signal is getting stronger now that he stopped hidin'?" Joey shrugged. "But yeah, I know about bees. Serenity's SCA friends told me. Bees are part of the family, so they should be told family stuff, and Amane is family, even if she's… somewhere else " Joey nodded.
After a minute of silence, Joey frowned. “D’ya. Do ya think the opposite can happen? Like. If something bad happened and you DIDN’T want to talk about it, but everyone kept INSISTING that you needed to open up about it until you get cornered by your f*ckin' priest-"
Joey stopped as he began to sputter, tears streaming down his face again. Bakura squeezed the arm around Joey's middle.
"You don't have to say it." Bakura offered. "Talking about something before you're ready is as bad as not talking about it at all.”
"No, no- I didn't wanna tell Father Mackenzie, but you guys? You'll be honest-". Joey sniffled. "Yuge, you remember Hirutani right? With the Yo-yos?"
"...Kind of?" Yugi frowned. “I remember one of them coming around and beating the crap out of us but the day after is still pretty blurry.”
I do. Yami winced.
"...That kind of explains a lot." Joey nodded. "The thing we fell out over back in middle school was- there was another guy in the gang called Rizzo. Like, I think his legal name was Suichi, but we all called him Rizzo.”
“We just turned 15, last year before high school, and Rizzo got his learner’s permit ON his birthday. We all hung out in the line at the DMV with him. Took all day, we even had cake there. Next week he turns up at school with a motorcycle. Hamaya MTG, kind of a piece of sh*t bike all told, but it’s what he could afford after he scraped together his birthday money, saved allowance and a sh*tload of odd job money. We all thought it was the coolest thing in the world.”
Yugi gently took Joey’s hand and they all walked in silence for a while, Joey clutching Bakura to his side and Yugi’s hand in a white-knuckle grip.
“Switchbacks on Mount Lee. Right up by the big sign. The rest of us were on regular bikes, and we decided to race downhill.” Joey mumbled. “I was the only one that knew how to draft on a bike- you know, get in the pocket of lower air pressure behind another vehicle to save energy and go faster, so I was almost touching his fender. Rizzo didn’t understand the trick, and kept speeding up to escape me, even after I got spooked by how fast we were going and backed off. But that didn’t slow him down and those are some sharp f*ckin’ turns…”
“Hirutani blamed me. Said I scared Rizzo into going way too fast. I blamed myself too, but I told Hirutani it was his fault for starting the race in the first place. Had a hell of a fight. My jaw ain’t sat right since then. Dad was convinced that I was tryin’ to kill myself about it when I came home looking like the side of beef from Rocky. So he called Father Makenzie, who only heard the word ‘Suicide’ and next Sunday after Dad dragged me to services, Father Mack trapped me in the back and wouldn’t shut up about confession and the weight of sin and-”
“Saint Iggy’s has a copy of the back wall of the Sistine Chapel behind the altar. You know, the one of what happens at the end of the world where all the good people get to be naked and ripped in heaven and everyone else gets skinned alive or their dicks bitten off by snakes or burnt alive. And that’s what was right at Eye level the whole time Father Mack’s on my case, and that Ninja Turtle guy’s a hell of a good painter, you can see where he painted the skeletons under the skin to make sure everything was accurate- Like how I learned what a degloved human skull looks like.”
Joey sighed deeply.
“Anyway, since then I’ve had nightmares on and off about Rizzo showing up with half a face to drag me to dick-biting-snake hell. Last year I only had them twice- once after the haunted house that Class 4 made for the school festival that Ms. Moorhead said we all had to go through, and after Death-T. So. Yeah. Probably gonna see Rizzo again tonight.”
The gang walked in silence for a bit longer, the floor changing from bare rock to a fitted stone floor as they approached Cam ‘n’ Hector’s Arena.
“I’m really sorry you-” Started Bakura.
“I had no idea bro-” Started Tristan.
That’s horri- Started Yami.
“It wasn’t your fau-” Started Téa.
“Do you need me to-” Started Yugi.
They all stopped, and Joey managed a snicker at the timing. “You guys…” he sighed, fondly. “Thanks. It. It’s not a weight off my chest, but it’s gone from looming to lurking, you know?” he shrugged. “-Kinda funny actually, that you guys are my friends.”
“Of course we’re your friends Joey.” Téa rolled her eyes.
“No, I mean it’s funny that You Guys Specifically are my friends.” he elaborated. “My friends are a Monster Hunter-”
“I told you, I’m not getting into my Dad’s business.” Tristan grunted.
“-Yeah, but you sure picked up the skills fast. Téa actively hunts down clowns and other creeps to fight and could probably kick God in half-”
“-And I will, if I figure out where he’s hiding.” She nodded.
“-An Actual Vampire-” Joey continued, giving Bakura an affectionate squeeze.
“-Details Pending.” Bakura agreed, giggling a bit.
“-A guy that’s such a hardcore goth that he’s actually Haunted-” He ruffled Yugi’s hair.
“You make it sound like I committed entrapment.” Yugi laughed.
“-And the ghost or whatever that’s haunting him!” he reached down and affectionately rapped his knuckles on the puzzle.
There was a faint metallic chime and Yami’s slightly higher shoulders rose under Joey’s arm. “I am honored that you consider me so.” He hummed, pressing his forehead to Joey’s.
“Bruh. You’re makin’ me blush.” Joey grinned, pressing back. “-Anyway, that’s a real funny f*ckin’ crew for someone scared sh*tless of spooks to be running with.”
“Perhaps not.” Yami considered. “All of us would lay down anything to protect you, and are uniquely suited for doing so should your tormentor be of supernatural nature.”
“...Huh.” Joey pondered. “Never thought of it like that.”
“Speaking of tormentors, I sense that we are about to have to deal with more of Pegasus’ sad*stic arena designs.” Yami glared at where the path split in a T-intersection in front of them, two large Japanese characters above arrows written in the same theatrical fake blood indicating each direction.
“Aw f*ck, not a f*ckin’ maze.” Joey groaned
“S’alright.” Nodded Tristan. “Keith said this maze follows the Right-Hand-Rule, so we go with…” Tristan trailed off, flashlight pointed at the character on the right.
“Kyū.” Yugi translated, taking back over his Body. “The characters together are Meikyū, which translates to ‘Maze’ or ‘Labyrinth’. I thought Keith meant that Cam and Hector were the janitors or something, but maybe Pegasus hired a pair of eliminators for a double-duel arena?”
“How would that even WORK?” Tristan glared, checking the right-hand hall for traps. “Like, is the turn order A1-A2-B1-B2, or A1-B1-A2-B2?”
“And why put it down HERE?” Téa frowned. “Why pay for duel eliminators that nobody in their right mind will ever find?”
“And what’s that smell?” Bakura retched, letting go of Joey to cover his face. “It smells like a mechanic’s shop in here!”
“Are you SURE you’re not also a werewolf?” asked Tristan.
Clunk
“What was that?” Bakura startled.
“What was what?” Joey twitched.
“I thought I heard something metal move. Oh Gods-” Bakura said, staring warily at Tristan’s Backpack
No, I heard it too. Yami said, suddenly on edge, rippling a bit like an over-animated Ghibli character as he drew himself up.
There was another much louder metallic shriek as metal sheared against metal, then a high PING! , the thunderous cacophony of something heavy being dropped and breaking apart, and an unmistakable “MOTHER f*ckER!” shouted by a furious and terrified male voice, but this time definitely from inside the maze.
“Okay, that I heard.” Said Téa. “What the hell was that?”
“Sounds like someone’s destroying a Duel Monsters Arena.” Said Joey.
“Okay, everyone hold hands, we take every right turn we can make, and keep an eye on where you’re stepping. Tell me if you see any strange brickwork or grease stains.” barked Tristan.
May I? Yami asked Yugi, hovering near his shoulder, protective. I have some experience in the matter of suspect mazes.
Yeah, sure. Yugi nodded, stepping back. Yami kept his grip on Joey’s hand, nodding at Téa when she put a hand on the shoulder of his- Yugi’s- their? Broken arm. He shook his head, clearing it to keep an eye on the brickwork.
It was slow going, Tristan prodding random bricks he didn’t like and freezing every time they heard another metallic clang or round of cursing from the other end of the maze. Eventually though, they came to a door, different from the rest, decorated with sculpted Lung Dragons and a red lintel with Chinese characters written across it in gold lettering. Tristan clicked off his flashlight and they carefully peered inside.
Beyond was a large chamber, decorated in similar antique Chinese fashion, but the eras were all over the place and some decor was Japanese or Korean. In the center of the room was a massive Holographic arena, set up with four playtops, clearly intended for Double-Dueling. Curiously, the lights were off, the only illumination coming from the flashlights of the two men inside.
One was standing on top of the holographic display, holding a flashlight and an open toolbag. The other was standing inside the massive hole the two of them had apparently made in the playtop, the discarded holographic panels scattered around them. The two men were Identical- tall and powerfully built, with bald heads and prominent noses, and wearing the same black slippers, loose black pants, and white undershirts. Beside them were a pair of discarded Chinese robes, one orange, one green, styled like something out of a Kung Fu movie.
“It can’t be, right?” the man in the hole was asking. “That’s insanely dangerous!”
“Bruh.” groaned his companion. “We’ve literally seen two different arenas go up in flames in the last 24 hours, and Pegasus has more loose screws than a discount whor*house. It’s gotta be.”
“Pfft!” Bakura snickered as he worked out the pun, and both men jumped a full eight feet into the air in surprise and landed on their feet, fists at the ready for a fight, before one turned his flashlight to the door and realized they were looking at a group of awkward teenagers.
“Heeeeeeeeeeeeeey!!” grimaced the man with the flashlight, trying to hide his embarrassment and failing.
“Oh sh*t, someone actually made it down here?” muttered the other, looking between the discarded robes, the mangled ruins of the arena, the gang and his companion. The first identical man looked back at his companion and they shrugged in unison.
“Any of you kids know what a propane tank looks like?” The first man asked, grinning sheepishly.
*
Huh. I guess he does have some artistic chops. Mokuba decided.
He knew he wasn’t supposed to, but he couldn’t stand being alone with his thoughts, unable to figure out what was happening with Shadi, or Seto, or Yugi, or anyone, and had decided that he could sit around sobbing like a baby, or he could get up and find out, and had crept out of the shed to get some answers.
Shadi, however, turned out to be as elusive as his identity was, and Pegasus’ castle was even more architecturally confusing than the few bits he’d sprinted through yesterday, and shortly, he became hopelessly lost.
Well, this isn’t the worst private gallery I’ve been in. Mokuba shrugged, wandering between the sculptures and thin gallery walls that held the paintings- not just Pegasus’ work, but quite a bit of commissioned pieces too. I guess it’s a bit more respectable that he pays the actual artist for his collectibles, instead of the auction house or art thieves. Kinda pathetic to be a painter and pay for niche fanart though . He considered standing in front of yet another sculpture of Funny Bunny.
On the far wall were two small paintings, each in climate-controlled glass cases. Oh? Something valuable? He wondered, meandering over.
Inside one case was a portrait of a regal-looking white cat, resting on a flat stone in the middle of a garden like a queen on a Dais. The cat seemed vaguely amused, perhaps having a laugh at the painter’s attention. In the corner, a bit large and sloppy, it was signed “MJP”.
Inside the other was a similar portrait of an Ox, standing in what looked like ancient ruins next to a well, regarding the painter with a similarly haughty but more irritated expression, as though trying to decide whether or not to trample him. Again in the corner, smaller and more stylized, was “MJP”.
Neither painting was bigger than a placemat, and the canvases were already coming off the frames, like these were studies from early in his career, before he could afford good art supplies.
Wow. These must be really important to him to take such good care of them. Must have some real sentimental value, because he doesn’t even have pictures of his family around. Mokuba thought.
I wish I had a hammer. He frowned.
Out in the hall, there was a soft, squelching noise and Mokuba was suddenly hit with the pungent scent of wine. He dove behind a massive sculpture of Funny Bunny, carefully peering around it as the wet footsteps entered the room.
It was Shadi, soaking wet and stained pink and red and smelling like a rack of wine had fallen on him. He looked around the room with concern, the KA-74 that he sure didn’t have last night hanging off his shoulder. He stopped in front of a large, unsigned charcoal drawing of a landscape a few feet from Mokuba’s hiding place, gazing at it with a forlorn expression.
Well, it’s not like I can read minds, so… “Mister Shadi?” Mokuba asked, stepping out from behind the sculpture.
Shadi turned to face him with surprise, but his expression immediately softened. “Hello!” he smiled, gently like he had the night before. “I’m sorry, have we met?”
Mokuba considered the question, and the large golden… Key? Hanging around his neck that he definitely didn’t have last night.
“Oh! No, we haven’t.” he lied, scrunching his face with a cheerfully embarrassed grin, scratching his cheek, a well practiced gesture designed to endear him to adults with spare paternal instincts. “I’m Mokuba!”
“It’s very nice to meet you Mokuba.” Shadi’s eyes closed with his smile, and Mokuba realized they were blue when he opened them again, and not the orange he’d had last night. “... But if this is our first meeting, how do you know my name?” he asked, co*cking his head a bit at him.
Ah. He realized. Well, this is interesting. “Oh! Mr. Pegasus said he was expecting a Mr. Shadi today!” he lied, grinning with pride. “I guessed right huh?”
Blue-Shadi didn’t flinch, but there was the tiniest microsecond of hesitation before he laughed, warm and friendly. “You certainly did! Pardon the ah. Armaments. Traveling is very dangerous these days.” he said, shifting the KA-74 under his cloak. “I didn’t know that Mr. Pegasus had a nephew?”
“Oh, no-” Mokuba laughed. Ew, no. He thought. “- My brother is the President of KaibaCorp so I get to be a guest here for the finals of the Duelist Kingdom tournament!”
“That must be exciting.” Blue-Shadi smiled fondly at him. “Do you know where Maximillion is? It’s embarrassing, but I’m afraid I’ve gotten rather turned around…”
“Oh, yeah! I think he’s in the dining room.” Said Mokuba, waving for Blue-Shadi to follow like he knew where he was going. “So how do you know Mr. Pegasus?”
Another microsecond freeze-flinch. “I assisted him on an archaeological excavation in Egypt some years ago.” Blue-Shadi said evasively. “It’s been over a decade since I've seen him in person, actually. How is he?”
“Living the High Life, Being an Eccentric Weirdo, Hosting a Children’s Card Game Tournament On An Island In The Middle Of Nowhere With No Amenities, you know, Bougie nonsense.” Mokuba shrugged. “-Missing an eye, but I don’t know when that happened.”
“Ah.” Blue-Shadi nodded. “I was… present for that incident.” he winced.
“Really? What happened?” Mokuba asked, genuinely interested. Pegasus had been infamously silent about what had happened to his eye and the internet was full of conspiracy boards speculating on the cause, ranging from benign home accident to ritually sacrificing it to the head of a cult for magical powers.
Blue-Shadi frowned down at him with concern. “It is not a pleasant story, and I do not wish to spoil your breakfast.”
“You won’t! I love scary stories!” Mokuba bounced excitedly beside him.
Blue-Shadi looked even more concerned, but they were interrupted by the golden Key around his neck suddenly glowing and levitating in the air, pointing down the hallway to their left. “Mokuba, was it?” Blue-Shadi asked, grasping the golden Key and wrapping its rope around his wrist in a tight knot. “How much do you know about magic?”
“My brother hates it.” Mokuba said, staring at the object with concern. That’s the same noise and glow Yugi’s puzzle made, right before that giant dog showed up. And right before he put Seto in a- “I don’t like it much either.”
“You have my solemn vow- I do not hurt children. No matter what.” Bue Shadi promised, voice deadly serious, and offered Mokuba his free hand. “Things are about to get very dangerous here. Please, take my hand and stay behind me.”
Mokuba swallowed, staring at his hand, and then looking back up at the strange-yet-familiar eyes. Cautiously, he took it.
Blue-Shadi moved cautiously, keeping both their backs to the wall and using the reflective surface of the Key to peer around corners before turning, movements almost eerily silent.
“You said Pegasus was in the dining hall?” Blue-Shadi asked as they approached the French doors that led into that room from the side, crouched a bit behind a suit of armor.
“I mean, probably? It’d be weird for him to sleep this late.” Mokuba shrugged.
“Alright- I’m going in, I want you to stay right here.” Blue-Shadi knelt, hand on Mokuba’s shoulder. “If you hear anything- raised voices, gunfire, lightning- I want you to run as fast and far away as possible. Do you understand?”
Mokuba was about to agree, when a familiar tan-and-bronze shape bolted up the hall that led straight there, furious, and barreled through the doors, which bounced off the walls and slammed shut behind him.
“What was that?” asked Blue-Shadi, looking over his shoulder with alarm.
“So uh. Apropos of nothing-” Mokuba asked, wincing. “-Do you have a twin?”
*
“Sir?” Someone croaked distantly.
“Ngh.” Maximillion grunted, eye fluttering under his sleeping mask.
“Mister Pegasus Sir?” The voice croaked again.
Pegasus groaned, picking up a pillow and throwing it in the general direction of the noise.
“Mister Pegasus you specifically requested I wake you by now because of your meeting.” sighed Croquet from somewhere above him. He must have sobered up enough from the Ketamine to stand.
“...Meeting?” Pegasus asked, a concerning feeling of horror that he had forgotten something important seeping in around the edges of his blissful pre-awakened state like suspicious stains around the baseboards of a cheap apartment.
“You have a meeting with Mr. Duke Devlin, creator of Dungeon Dice Monsters in approximately twenty minutes.” Croquet explained.
Slowly, Pegasus pulled his facemask up and glared at Croquet with a single bloodshot eye. “...That’s on the 25th.”
“ Today is the 25th, Sir.”
Pegasus blinked, eye slowly widening with horror.
“The helicopter you chartered for him has entered Industrial Illusions Airspace.” Croquet continued, attempting to convey a sense of urgency.
“GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY MAN, WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME SOONER?!” Pegasus shouted, not so much jumping up from the bed as levitating upright out of sheer panic.
“-AND WHY ON EARTH DID I SCHEDULE THE MEETING FOR THIS WEEKEND??” Pegasus continued to yowl, ripping off his gauzy dressing gown, tossing it on Croquet like the man was a coatrack, and sprinting, naked save for a pair of Funny Bunny Brand boxer shorts, for the bathroom.
“You said it would make a good impression on Mr. Devlin, and that Industrial Illusions should have a new game to come out with should the tournament go sideways.” said Croquet, slightly muffled from under the robe.
“Good Gods, I must have been drunk!” Pegasus hissed, pulling out the braid and fifty thousand bobby pins he slept in to keep his hair pin-straight and draping elegantly.
“Which suit today sir?” Croquet asked, slouching in after him. Even under his aviator sunglasses, Croquet looked wretched- a suitcase under each eye and skin parched.
“Mr. Devlin was wearing a rather bohemian ensemble last time… Ah, the Versace gray waistcoat, the dove-gray pants- no, the looser ones, yes- cream, no- rose undershirt. That Keffiyeh- no, no, left- my left Croquet… yes.”
“Interesting selection sir.” Croquet said.
“The idea is to appear well-traveled and like you could be comfortable sleeping on a wire.” Pegasus sighed, brushing out his hair as Croquet readied to dress him. “Ugh, I’m hideously dehydrated.” he groaned, pulling at his face before getting up and dressing.
“Mr. Devlin is about to land sir.” Croquet relayed the information chirped over his earpiece.
“Dammit! Have Kemo show him to the main hall, and tell the cook to put brunch on in the dining hall.” Pegasus grumbled, tying the Keffiyeh around his neck like a filthy tourist instead of a real archeologist.
“Actually, we can’t find Kemo.” winced Croquet.
“Oh good grief!” Pegasus huffed, putting on every ring and bracelet he owned and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “SOMEBODY must know where he is, it’s not like he just fell down a hole and vanished!”
“We’ll find someone to escort Mr. Devlin.” nodded Croquet, ducking out of Pegasus’ dressing room to bark orders as Pegasus pulled on his shoes- dithering a moment between Oxfords, or loafers with black socks, before deciding to lean in on the hedonism and opting for sandals instead. At 46, he probably looked ancient to the just-out-of-high-school Duke, but if he couldn’t look hip, he could at least convey a sense of carefree hospitality and genuine interest, like a weird but fun uncle.
“They’re doing a circuit of the island to show Mr. Devlin the layout of the tournament.” said Croquet, poking his head in the door.
“Oh clever man!” Pegasus sighed with relief, striding out of the dressing room and out through the bedroom, power walking to arrive at the landing platform in time to look like he’d been waiting for Mr. Devlin. “And regarding other matters- The Kaiba brothers?”
“No sign of either of them.” sighed Croquet. “A helicopter was seen leaving KaibaCorp headquarters late last night but Kaiba wasn’t on the passenger manifest.”
“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t on it, I want that helicopter found, better still, I want Seto Kaiba found!” he growled.
“We received a couple dozen reports that could have been Mokuba Kaiba last night but nothing conclusive. And Disaster Services have finally put out the fires at the Server farm, but it looks like the destruction was total and catastrophic. The servers are basically slag.”
“UGH! So nothing that went wrong last night has been resolved?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Pegasus panted a bit while taking the stairs.
“...Did anything else go wrong last night?” he tried, Eye tingling to indicate that Croquet was holding out on him.
“The SEC is looking into the Data Breach, the KaibaCorp board of directors has been calling since 3AM, The Eliminator Panik-With-A-K turned up looking like someone had run over him with a truck and crying about fairies, we lost data information from Duel Arenas 13 and 14 in the tunnels early this morning, several staff and duelists have reported seeing some sort of extremely large animal on the island but they can’t seem to agree on what it looks like, someone ransacked your wine cellar and there was a pretty serious fight at the water spigot last night but since the cruise liner is still missing, we had to call in the coast guard to escort the participants off the island.” Croquet rattled off at speed, hoping that if he said them all fast enough, Pegasus might miss a few.
“Devlin better be able to deliver me one hell of a game to keep the shareholders happy after this.” Pegasus growled as they stepped out onto the garden path that led to the helicopter landing pad. “-And Yugi Moto? My Millennium Puzzle?” he asked instead.
“...We have no idea where Mr. Moto is either, sir.” Croquet winced.
“Three teenagers! How hard is it to keep track of three teenagers, and how do we lose two of them on my own personal island, swarming with my staff and cameras on every dueling arena?” Pegasus sighed. He paused, taking a deep breath and putting a smile on his face before stepping out through the garden arch that put him in view of the landing pad, where his luxury helicopter was approaching.
“MISTER DEVLIN!” He beamed as the young man stumbled awkwardly off the helicopter- Poor thing, a cheap Guy’s Clothesrack suit, a size too small, but it’d be falling off his shoulders otherwise . “HOW LOVELY TO SEE YOU AGAIN, WELCOME TO MY PERSONAL SLICE OF PARADISE!” he shouted over the beat of the helicopter blades, throwing an arm around the lad and escorting him inside.
Duke was a beanpole of a young man who didn’t know about suits, but Pegasus did have to credit the rest of his fashion choices- a bright red shirt with elaborate embroidery around the collar and geometric headband around curly black hair that grew down to the middle of his back, and a single hand-made hoop earring that formed orbits around a silver die.
“I- thank you! Thank you so much for having me Mr. Pegasus!” Devlin sputtered, wide intensely green eyes positively starstruck. “And to watch the finals of Duelist Kingdom too!”
“Well, it’s hardly fun to throw a party and not have guests!” Pegasus laughed, strolling along with practiced ease. “Come along, I can’t imagine what hour you must have gotten up at to get here so early, you must be famished! Let’s do brunch, and then you can show me what you’ve been working on since that business proposal you sent me!”
“Oh! Sure!” Duke said, slightly too giddy.
“Splendid!” Pegasus offered him another dazzling smile. “Anyway, how have you been? How’s your father?” he asked, remembering that Duke had an extant father that had … some sort of health issue? Man had been in the hospital, I’m sure I remember that correctly.
“Oh! Uh, he’s… Well-” Duke sputtered as they entered the dining hall. “I mean, he’s not worse but he’s still wearing the clow-”
“PEGASUS!” bellowed a chillingly familiar voice.
Maximillion looked across the room and was transported back 15 years to egypt, to that blisteringly hot afternoon when his life changed forever-
“-WHAT THE f*ck IS THIS?” Shadi continued, pointing furiously to his portrait. “WHY AM I NEXT TO YOUR DEAD WIFE?”
Pegasus froze, horrified. “Ah, well, yes, I suppose without context it does seem rather peculiar, ah- Mr. Devlin, please help yourself to the buffet while I sort this out-” he babbled, scrambling to make sense of the situation. “Shadi! It’s been too long!” He said, far more magnanimously than the man deserved.
Instead of lowering his hand, Shadi bristled at Pegasus from the far end of the table. “DON’T USE THE MAGIC OF YOUR MILLENNIUM EYE TO PRETEND YOU KNOW ME! WHO ARE YOU?”
Pegasus froze. He. He can’t be serious. There’s no way. He couldn't have possibly- Pegasus focused with the Millennium Eye, seeing past this obvious bluff-
Except that all that he saw was Shadi’s roiling confusion, the faces of all the people he knew flashing by, frantically trying to match Pegasus to one of them.
“YOU FORGOT ME?” Pegasus wailed, clutching at his heart and staggering back against the table in genuine shock.
Shadi stared at him blankly, his mind a similar void. A total absence of comprehension.
“OH MY GOD!” Pegasus screamed, confusion turning into horror. “HOW COULD YOU FORGET ME, AFTER ALL WE WENT THROUGH TOGETHER? AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO ME??”
Shadi blinked. “...I didn’t sleep with you, did I?” he asked, cautiously.
“NO!” Shrieked Pegasus, horror turning to rage.
“Oh thank the Gods.” Shadi muttered with, the Eye informed him, entirely genuine relief.
“-AND WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” Pegasus screamed, grabbing a plate and throwing it.
*
Duke stared blankly at the unfolding scene of no-context drama and tableware destruction. He looked at the brunch buffet beside him.
“Well, no sense in letting this go to waste!” He decided, loading up a plate with food and sitting at the farthest corner of the table to enjoy the show as ‘Shadi’ launched a counter-offensive with a nearby flower vase. He had much better aim but the vase was not terribly aerodynamic and Pegasus managed to dodge, scattering china and chrysanthemums across the table.
“THAT IS ITALIAN MAPLE YOU BASTARD!” Screamed Pegasus.
