RINE'S ACTUALLY POSTING.

Holy Ra, Rine's posting writing! (It's a miracle!) 

If Yu-Gi-Oh isn't really your thing, please feel free to check out my recent review of the new Pokemon generation on Squirrels and Dragons! 

This is a little bit of fan fiction based on a bit of an ongoing role play with my cousin, Shyruni. While it may not be 100% canon, it's what I imagine to be going on during the downtime between Yugi vs. Bakura, which leaves Bakura hospitalized, and the duel between Marik's brother Odion and Joey Wheeler.

Enjoy it for the sake of it being a role play. XD

That Namu kid was being a pest again, after witnessing Bakura's duel with Yugi that ended in Bakura's hospitalization.

The blonde Egyptian boy refused to do anything but lounge around wallow in his self-pity, and he refused to speak to anyone, despite the fact that he had taken up residence in the commons.

Joey and Tristan had tried every obnoxious trick they could before Namu got fed up and slapped Tristan on the face.

Kaiba assumed that the two boys - this Namu and Bakura- had some evil conspiracy going on, and the defeat of his partner-in-crime had crushed the boy's spirit. The time passed slowly, and the boy seemed to fall asleep. Kaiba took one last swig of his water and began to walk away from the commons. Namu remained on the couch, face down but still breathing.

It seemed like a good time to leave, so Kaiba made his way to his quarters.

A loud thump woke Kaiba up. It sounded like it had come from the commons, and Kaiba felt as though some of his property has been defaced. He threw on his overcoat and stormed on his way to the lounge.

The closer he got to his destination, the more he could hear something that sounded similar to muffled yelling. Kaiba hastened his pace, excited to lecture the vandal.

Disappointment filed the businessman' s heart when he saw only Namu' s quaking form pressed against the couch. Pausing in the doorway to see if he could find what the thud of destruction had been, Kaiba shuffled one of his feet. The boy on the couch twitched.

"Odion, is that you?" The boy mumbled into a couch cushion. "I need a hug..."

"I don't think so," Kaiba snapped back. He had no idea who this Odion character was, and guess that Namu was having a lucid dream.

"Come on, it's me, Marik! Not Melvin!" The boy practically screamed into the couch, and waited for a reply. When none came, he continued, "...And the Millennium Rod is stuck in the ceiling... tell Kaiba I'm sorry about that..."

Kaiba furrowed his brow and looked to the ceiling. There, impaling the metal ceiling, was a gold scepter that looked oddly familiar. Jacobs was utterly confused,  with the Namu boy referring to himself as Marik.

"How did you..." Kaiba began, unsure of what to think of the new ceiling decoration. "Never mind, I'm not even going to try to figure this out..." He turned to leave, but was stopped again by a reply.

"I was throwing it."

Kaiba whirled around to look at Marik, Namu, whoever he was, snapping, "Hard enough to penetrate a METAL CEILING?! Was that an accident?!"

"Well..." came the response, somewhat sheepishly. "Not unintentional, per se..."

Kaiba glared at the boy, who was clearly awake, trying to decide whether to kick his bare, exposed side or find some other punishment.

"CAN I PLEASE HAVE A HUG?!" The boy screamed suddenly, pushing his head up with his arms. His eyes were closed, but his hair was a little bit more wild than normal.

"NO." Kaiba snarled back. He was getting very fed up with this boy, and was still trying to decide what to do to him.

"BUT ODION! BAKURA'S BEEN HOSPITALIZED AND THEY WON'T LET ME SEE HIM." The boy's voice grew steadily more aggressive as he spoke, and he suddenly slammed his head back down on the couch.

"I'm Kaiba, not Odion. Whoever THAT is," Kaiba finally growled, folding his arms across his chest and sitting down at the bar counter.

The Egyptian sat himself up and looked at Kaiba. His eyes were frenzied, but focused on the business man with laser-like intensity. The violet orbs lingered on Kaiba' s person for a moment, then the boy's head dropped back down to the couch.

"I'm sorry. I'm lonely and angsty and I want to frigging kill something," the boy roared at Kaiba through the couch. "And that probably isn't helping my case one bit, is it..."

"Probably not. Tell me what you were doing before I came down here," Kaiba demanded.

The boy rolled over on the couch and stared at the ceiling. "Erm...“ he muttered. "Well..."

"Tell me right now." Kaiba hissed, extremely fed up with the boy.

"Well, see, I have this imaginary friend, see--" the Egyptian began. Kaiba snorted. "I'm serious. He wants to kill everyone, especially the Pharaoh. He was TRYING to get me to stab myself with the Millennium Rod, so I threw it at the ceiling. It got stuck, so I laid down on the couch like this again.“ The boy put his face on the cushion again. Kaiba shuddered.

"Right, so your imaginary friend tried to kill you. The only one he can possess, and his key to victory. Or whatever." Kaiba"s voice dripped with sarcasm, yet the boy didn't seem to catch it.

"No, I was being very stubborn today and wouldn't let him have control. He only stabs me in the arm until I give in," the boy quipped. He snapped off one of his gold armbands, underneath which was a nasty scar and several fresh wounds, seeping drops of red.

“Right... I'm starting to wonder which of you I would get along with better. " Kaiba had no idea why he was still here talking to a nut job.

"Gee, thanks."

"You're not welcome."

Kaiba stood up and walked toward the doorway. He was stopped by the strange boy yet again.

"Say, is there any chance that I could get my rod back sometime in the near future?"

Was he really asking that? No, of course not. HE was the one who got the thing up there. Kaiba decided to toy with the kid some more. "Maybe..." The brown haired man turned his head and saw the boy perk up a bit. "If you let me use your Egyptian God card for a bit."

"WHAT?! FRIG NO! What in Ra' s name do you want with it?!"

"Nothing I could admit to the general public."

"That's disgusting, Kaiba. How dare you think of stealing my card! And you organized this tournament, too!" After this short outburst, the Egyptian buried his head in his arms.

"Actually, no. My men did most of the work here."

The boy became one with the couch again and put his arms over his head. "Lovely stuff. How hard would it be to--" The boy paused, his breathing growing heavy and irregular. "To have your men get something of the ceiling?"

Kaiba began to walk away again. "I don't take orders from Egyptian peasants."

Silence, then a rustling noise as the boy sat bolt upright.

“What did you just call me?” He demanded, his voice growing darker and slightly more fearsome. Had Kaiba turned to look back, he would have seen that the boy was glaring straight at him, a look of murder. His hair was becoming very frazzled and wild.

If such a boy could ever be fearsome, Kaiba thought. He could feel the violet eyes staring through the back of his skull, but not the anger in the look.

His hair was becoming very frazzled and wild, sticking straight up in ways that shouldn’t be physically possible.

If such a boy could ever be fearsome, Kaiba thought. He could feel the violet eyes staring through the back of his skull, but not the anger in the look.

“I called you a peasant,” Kaiba replied nonchalantly, continuing his return to his quarters.

Agonized choking and sputtering noises came out of the boy’s mouth. He seemed to be trying to hold something back. “You are... You are going to... YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT LITTLE COMMENT, BINKY-BOY...”

“Seriously?” Kaiba pressed, turning around yet again.He decided to use what he knew about the (apparently) fake Marik to his advantage. “You live underground, in an unlit cave with little food or water, and spend your time guarding a dead man. I have cups made of gold, wide screen TVs, and statues of myself carved out of silver. And that’s not even mentioning that I’m funding this whole tournament,” the businessman bragged.

“I GAVE THAT UP. I NO LONGER ‘GUARD A DEAD MAN.’ THE PHARAOH MEANS NOTHING TO ME. IT WAS HIS FAULT THAT I WAS NEVER ALLOWED ABOVEGROUND, HIS FAULT THAT I HAD HIEROGLYPHS CARVED INTO MY BARE FRIGGING BACK, WITHOUT THE HELP OF MODERN MEDICINE,” The boy, hair now standing almost on end, stood and unclipped one of the gold earrings that dangled precariously from his tan ear. “IT WAS HIS FAULT THAT I WAS UNABLE TO EXPERIENCE LIFE, AND I AM GETTING REVENGE. THAT’S A LOT MORE THAN YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT YOUR CONSTANT RICH-BUTT BEHAVIOUR.”

So this IS the real Marik, then, Kaiba thought. “Well, then, you’ve spent most of your time trying to kill a dead man.”

Kaiba heard the blonde boy fall to the ground, making agonized huffing sounds as he tried to hold off his dark side. Tears poured from his eyes, and his fingers clawed at his face.

“I’LL GET YOU WHEN NEXT WE MEET, KAIBA,” Marik screamed, before collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

Kaiba glanced over his shoulder and saw the heap of boy on the ground. He called through the receiver on his coat collar for several of his workers, commanding them to take the unconscious boy to his room. Oh, and get the Millennium Rod out of the ceiling. Can’t have that ugly old thing sticking out and being an eyesore. 

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