Turn Out the Lights

He rolled himself onto his stomach thinking the question over. “Gold… maybe black, hm” not something he though too hard about.

He shook his head running his hands through the bangs, the bun was starting to pins and needles across his scalp. Some strands of hair escaped the confines and were sticking up. He got himself up to his feet.

He hummed. “Its easier to hunt you down. Technology is hard.” He in theory knew how his phone worked, but he didn’t really like it, and he didn’t know how to delete messages.

When Karim stands, there’s a second of near-surprise. There isn’t a huge height difference between them - Ryou and Marik have always been of similar stature - but the bun and extra bits sticking out, the way he carries himself, make it feel greater than it is. 

“I can show you if necessary, but… that works for now. Sure.” 

Ryou hadn’t exactly expected the other’s stance on tech to be the same as that of an old man, but he supposes he should’ve. Being dormant for so long has likely made exposure to this kind of thing very limited.

He chuckles quietly, mostly to himself, and pads over to the entryway.

He glanced at the other as he stepped through the threshold, burning the memory into his mind.

He nodded. "I'll find a way to stay in touch, if you want."

He tried not to react to being called the new name, but it just…

It felt correct.

It was a thoughtful name given to him by someone not unpleasant. He didn’t want it to show that he was rather pleased with it. His eyes moved from around to the almost offending hand. He unconsciously held his breath. He didn’t know how to react to anything so gentle.

His eyes moved back to Ryou. “I don’t have a plan, I will go when you are done with me.” A wide smirk formed on his lips, almost a playful air to him. “If you have no more curiosities then that is what I offered to fulfill. I don’t desire to impose, atleast not right now.”

It doesn’t feel like much of an imposition. Ryou was the one that invited him in, after all. Against any better judgement he may have had, even. Still, there’s no real reason for him to keep Karim here.

“What’s your favorite color?”

A whimsical question, just to draw out their conversation a fraction longer. Besides, you can learn a lot about a person by how they answer that one.

With his own smile, he pushes himself back up into a standing position - pausing only when his knees crack in protest. The pain in his arm is gone, though. That’s at least a win.

He shook his head running his hands through the bangs, the bun was starting to pins and needles across his scalp. Some strands of hair escaped the confines and were sticking up. He got himself up to his feet.

His eyes drifted from Ryou to the screen. Would you look at that, the same pieces and yet different.

A bit of a smile crept onto his face, an unconscious one, lacking some of the sinister qualities. Some of them.

It was a smart choice, weirdly thoughtful. How had he come up with that so quick. Strange.

“Thoughtful. I don’t hate that… I suppose I won’t know if I like it until people start calling me by that.”

Ryou nods in understanding. This does seem like something that would have to be more trial and error.

“Well, Karim. You’ve met me and gotten yourself a new name. You’ve accomplished a lot today.” He reaches a hand out slowly, almost like he’s trying to avoid startling a wild animal. And he brushes a strand of hair out of the man’s face, gently as a whisper. “Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

He thinks about why he brought them here in the first place. He’d said he had questions, but he’s run through most of the catalogue in his head. There are plenty more things to ask, surely, but he can’t think of them right now.

It felt correct.

It was a thoughtful name given to him by someone not unpleasant. He didn't want it to show that he was rather pleased with it. His eyes moved from around to the almost offending hand. He unconsciously heald his breath. He didn't know how to react to anything so gentle.

He mused on it a moment.

What would he dream about?

He knew Marik tended to just have nightmares, he knew roughly the contents but not the experience. Would he have nightmares? What would he fear? Or would he be a nightmare to the unconscious Marik. Or would he simply dream? Of murder? Murder would be a nice dream.

Hm Ryou was speaking again.

“Karim?”

It was certainly a name. It didn’t sound dumb or weak.

He mumbled a little in Arabic, the name coming through a few times as he softly practiced introducing himself with it. It didn’t feel… incorrect.

“Not bad, why does that one stand out to you? What’s the reason?”

Ryou strains to hear as the shadow of a man begins to mutter to himself. He’s not a fluent speaker of Arabic or ancient Egyptian, so he’s not fully confident in his pronunciations. The ring’s spirit doesn’t often speak in it, either - at least, not to him.

When those purple eyes turn back to him, he has to avert his own. He doesn’t want to get caught looking.

“It means ‘noble’,” he says, “which seems fitting.”

He offers a warm smile, and quickly pulls his phone back out to begin typing in a note document.

“It’s also an anagram! Using the same letters, you can spell out Marik.” He turns the phone down so that his guest - Karim, now - can see. “Though you two may share a body, you have different personalities and want different things. Same building blocks but different results, you know?”

Ryou crouches so that he’s on a similar level.

A bit of a smile crept onto his face, an unconscious one, lacking some of the sinister qualities. Some of them.

It was a smart choice, weirdly thoughtful. How had he come up with that so quick. Strange.

He watches the other the smirk no longer there. Ryou was so completely different, from the spirit, from marik, from himself. Seemed just thinking about the spirits actions was enough to cause him physically pain.

He pursed his lips. “Your questions are interesting.”

He said as he began to mull it over. He had never really had control of the body while sleeping.

“No… If I had dreams I would have been very young…. I barely remember how it feels to be asleep.”

Interesting. He’s never really been called that. At least… Ryou hasn’t. He’s certain that someone, somewhere, has probably used the adjective for the Ring’s spirit.

The mortal Bakura has always felt himself a lesser character in his story, second to the spectral entity that sometimes pilots his flesh. There have been times when he’s felt appreciated, sure - like when he’s with his friends or when he’s surrounded by his fanclub. But those girls don’t really know anything about him, and half the time, his friends don’t seem to notice when he’s not himself.

No, stop. They like you for you. That’s why you’re trying so hard to get rid of him.

He’s pulled out of his downward spiral by the darker Marik’s response. He’d almost forgotten that the man was here, to be honest.

“That’s… a little distressing.” Does he just stay awake the entire time he’s in control? Though it isn’t so different from when Ryou’s other half takes control - he often wakes hungry and tired… But perhaps it’s a case of being unable to exert control when the vessel is unconscious. It would be an interesting thing to experiment with. “I’m sorry that you haven’t gotten to experience it.”

He squeezes his arm, hoping to ease the pain a little. It does not lessen.

What would he dream about?

He knew Marik tended to just have nightmares, he knew roughly the contents but not the experience. Would he have nightmares? What would he fear? Or would he be a nightmare to the unconscious Marik. Or would he simply dream? Of murder? Murder would be a nice dream.

Hm Ryou was speaking again.

"Karim?"

It was certainly a name. It didn't sound dumb or weak.

He mumbled a little in Arabic, the name coming through a few times as he softly practiced introducing himself with it. It didn't feel... incorrect.

He watches the other the smirk no longer there. Ryou was so completely different, from the spirit, from marik, from himself. Seemed just thinking about the spirits actions was enough to cause him physically pain.

He pursed his lips. “Your questions are interesting.”

He said as he began to mull it over. He had never really had control of the body while sleeping.

“No… If I had dreams I would have been very young…. I barely remember how it feels to be asleep.”

Interesting. He’s never really been called that. At least… Ryou hasn’t. He’s certain that someone, somewhere, has probably used the adjective for the Ring’s spirit.

The mortal Bakura has always felt himself a lesser character in his story, second to the spectral entity that sometimes pilots his flesh. There have been times when he’s felt appreciated, sure - like when he’s with his friends or when he’s surrounded by his fanclub. But those girls don’t really know anything about him, and half the time, his friends don’t seem to notice when he’s not himself.

No, stop. They like you for you. That’s why you’re trying so hard to get rid of him.

He’s pulled out of his downward spiral by the darker Marik’s response. He’d almost forgotten that the man was here, to be honest.

“That’s… a little distressing.” Does he just stay awake the entire time he’s in control? Though it isn’t so different from when Ryou’s other half takes control - he often wakes hungry and tired… But perhaps it’s a case of being unable to exert control when the vessel is unconscious. It would be an interesting thing to experiment with. “I’m sorry that you haven’t gotten to experience it.”

He squeezes his arm, hoping to ease the pain a little. It does not lessen.

What would he dream about?

He knew Marik tended to just have nightmares, he knew roughly the contents but not the experience. Would he have nightmares? What would he fear? Or would he be a nightmare to the unconscious Marik. Or would he simply dream? Of murder? Murder would be a nice dream.

Hm Ryou was speaking again.

"Karim?"

It was certainly a name. It didn't sound dumb or weak.

He mumbled a little in Arabic, the name coming through a few times as he softly practiced introducing himself with it. It didn't feel... incorrect.

He watched the other a moment, it wasn’t until the questions were asked, and Ryou has settled that he began to think.

He glanced from the couch to the floor, deciding he would rather sprawl out for some floor time. Which was exactly what he did. He laid out looking up at the other man’s illuminated face. “I don’t need anything.”

He mused for a moment, a smirk playing on his lips.

“How long have I been around?”

His eyes moved up to the ceiling. “Do you mean my life in general? I was born Malik Ishtar. I became I when our father tore us apart in flesh, which severed us in soul. Until my emergence at battle city I simply watched. Since then, I knew nothing, was no longer aware. Surely some part of me is being tortured in the shadow realm. So the part of me here… Sleep is not a wrong term…”

He glanced back over. “Is that what its like for you? Being asleep?”

As he’s perusing websites, a couple of names catch his eye. Chisisi, Hasani, Jabari… The one that keeps it is Karim. Noble. It’s also an anagram for Marik - which is fitting, he thinks. Maybe that’s the one they’ll use. But he keeps looking, in case something else appears.

Gray eyes flit up to his guest occasionally, to make sure nothing… nefarious is afoot. They end up lingering as the man speaks to him. He recalls the scars on Marik’s back, though he’s… not sure where the image surfaces from. He’s certain Marik has told him about it, but he doesn’t remember ever… seeing them. Perhaps… this is not necessarily his memory. Interesting.

“Split into pieces… That sounds very sad.”

It’s reminiscent of his own darker half, which has been torn apart. Though he does his best not to feel sympathy for it, he finds himself unable to stop sometimes. His actions have always been inexcusable, but… there is a reason that he is the way that he is.

Ryou exhales, locks the screen of his phone.

“Sort of, yes.” He’s taken back to the place that he hates. Darkness - everywhere, neverending. “Though not quite, either. When I sleep, I dream. When he’s in control, there is… nothing.”

A shiver flows through him, and he finds himself clutching his left arm with his right hand. Phantom pain begins to pulse from the remnants of a scar.

“Sometimes I can see what’s happening outside. He doesn’t bury me so deep that I lose all awareness. But I can’t do anything to stop him, most of the time.”

The expression on his face turns bleak for a moment, but he manages to pull himself back together.

He pursed his lips. “Your questions are interesting.”

He said as he began to mull it over. He had never really had control of the body while sleeping.

As Ryou spoke he couldn’t help give the other man an unpleasant look. Not unlike the looks he would give in battle city when things stopped going his way. Mainly because he was now somewhere unfamiliar, a secondary location.

Not that he thought Ryou would hurt him, but if he were to lure someone home, he would only have torture on the mind.

As the other man smiled and spoke, he felt…

Well whatever it was he didn’t like it. He glanced off. He supposed an Egyptian name would be fine. As long as it’s his. He was currently being looked at as an individual, and it felt, odd.

After a second in silence he gave the other a frustrated and confused look. “You, did you only want my name?”

The other man’s face twists into an expression that is hard to quantify, but it isn’t worrisome. It’s kind of cute, actually, in a strange kind of way.

Ryou fishes his phone out of a pocket and flips one of the switches on the wall to allow light into the kitchen and the entryway. He doesn’t mind the dark, but he does like to be able to see. Especially when there’s a veritable stranger standing in his hall.

He opens up the internet browser on his device and begins to look at some baby name websites.

“No, no! Of course not. It’s just easier to converse when you know what to call someone.” He sidles over to the couch as he speaks, staring at the glowing screen in his hands and using a finger to scroll up and down one of the lists he’s pulled up. None of these names seem to fit. “I do want to know a couple of other things. Like how long you’ve been around, or what it’s like… to be in your situation. Does it just feel like you’re sleeping when you’re not in control?”

He leans against the back of the sofa and looks up at his guest.

He glanced from the couch to the floor, deciding he would rather sprawl out for some floor time. Which was exactly what he did. He laid out looking up at the other man's illuminated face. "I don't need anything."

He mused for a moment, a smirk playing on his lips.

"How long have I been around?"

His eyes moved up to the ceiling. "Do you mean my life in general? I was born Malik Ishtar. I became I when our father tore us apart in flesh, which severed us in soul. Until my emergence at battle city I simply watched. Since then, I knew nothing, was nolonger aware. Surely some part of me is being tortured in the shadow realm. So the part of me here... Sleep is not an wrong term..."

Does he want to be called, Marik?

“I have never thought about it before.” He mused over it silently for a moment, the sounds of their steps in the night air. Unconsciously he had matched his pace to Ryou’s, taking steps at the same time to minimize the noise.

“When we were born we received the name Malik, meaning king. Marik is his chosen name, I do not like to use it as my own.”

He supposed a name could set him apart, but having walked the earth so infrequently it did not seem like a necessity. The Pharaoh had called him Shadow, but that was worse. While he was the shadow of his dominant half, calling him that made him feel like a wild animal being called by it’s species. Not inaccurate, but not exactly his favorite way to be identified.

He scratched the back of his head. “I do not have a name other than these tho… as long as I know you’re talking to me I do not care what I am called.”

It seems ironic to name the keeper of a king’s tomb something like that. But it fits Marik just as well, and it sounds rather nice.

“I understand. If you’ve been dormant for most of your life, you probably haven’t had a lot of time to think about it.”

Ryou nods, unlocking the front door of his building to allow the darker Marik through. He leads them on the normal trek - to the elevator, to his floor, to his door. There, he punches in his combination and lets them in.

“I can help you pick something out, if you like. Plenty of options.” He hangs his bag on one of the hooks next to the door, steps out of his sneakers and leaves them on the mat nearby. “We can google some Egyptian names if you’d prefer one of those.”

He offers a small smile to the blond. Now that they’re in his space, he feels at ease, though arguably he should be more concerned at their secluded location. He doesn’t have any more or less control than he did on the street. But he’s a little more confident that things won’t get to that point.

His unobtrusive nature seems to be something of a defusal to this Marik’s natural desire to cause problems.

Not that he thought Ryou would hurt him, but if he were to lure someone home, he would only have torture on the mind.

As the other man smiled and spoke, he felt...

Well whatever it was he didn't like it. He glanced off. He supposed an Egyptian name would be fine. As long as it's his. He was currently being looked at as an individual, and it felt, odd.

Was it a waist of effort? He had so few opertunities to be active, he didn’t really have a limit to how far he would go for what he wants. Something that had been dangerously obvious in battle city.

He would argue it was a virtue. If anyone were to dare challenge him on the topic. Not that that would happen.

After Ryou has turned away, the request settled on him. Some questions? Genuine suprised dawned on his face for the briefest moment.

He was a little more hesitant, moving off the wall to follow the other at his side. Not something- He had ever done. Perhaps as a small boy through the tombs before the split he would walk along side Odion, or father… but never after.

He also looked away. Irritation at himself for his unease, and interest in this new experience culminated in an aloof tone. “I got the time, whadya want to know?”

He speaks differently than Marik does, as well. Not by a hell of a lot, but enough to be noticeable. Interesting.

Arguably, the situation isn’t extremely different than Ryou’s with the ring, or than Yugi’s with Atem. The only real difference is that the latter two are separate souls entirely - this is just a fracturing.

“Firstly,” he begins, “… Do you want to be called Marik? Or do you have another name for yourself? You obviously see yourself as distinct.”

He pulls out his key as they get closer to the apartment building.

“There’s plenty more, but we should probably start with that.”

He’s gotten the original Marik’s take on this existence. He’s gotten glimpses of what it’s capable of - but that was years ago now. Is it even correct to call him an it? Or…

“I have never thought about it before.” He mused over it silently for a moment, the sounds of their steps in the night air. Unconsciously he had matched his pace to Ryou’s, taking steps at the same time to minimize the noise.

“When we were born we received the name Malik, meaning king. Marik is his chosen name, I do not like to use it as my own.”

He supposed a name could set him apart, but having walked the earth so infrequently it did not seem like a necessity. The Pharaoh had called him Shadow, but that was worse. While he was the shadow of his dominant half, calling him that made him feel like a wild animal being called my it’s species. Not inaccurate, but not exactly his favorite way to be identified.

Interesting, very much so. Obviously this one has had to put up with a lot of wicked, he wasn’t as easily frightened, or quick to anger as some others.

His expression leveled out a bit, some musing as he pouts. “To get out of this?” He parroted back, as he mulled over the question.

To say he wanted something from Ryou was a stretch, he didn’t even understand what this obsession was. Ryou had just been the one there, when just enough shame and pain has penetrated the emotional wall of his dominant half. The shadow did not have the capacity to understand his fixation. Nor was he aware of his own desire to be acknowledged as being born part of Malik Ishtar and not just a parasitic part of the ‘real ones’ soul.

All he could really understand was the concept of seeing someone, and in the most general terms, wanting to be seen by them.

“You misunderstand.” He reached up idly to play with his earring, a tic both the identities shared. “You have already assisted me. All I have followed you for is this chance to meet face to face. I do not intend on taking anything from you, or using you to some end beyond this moment.”

His posture remains relaxed as a twisted playful smile returned to his lips.

Ryou watches as the other man plays with his jewelry.

He just wanted to meet me?

He’s skeptical. The last person to have approached him in this way was a girl from school that he’d had to shoot down. He doubts that that this personality has similar intentions.

He shifts his bag on his shoulder, considering his options. As he thinks, his eyelids begin to feel heavy. It’s not the latest he’s been out, surely, but he’s already getting tired.

“Mission accomplished, I suppose. Are you going, then?”

As they stand here, he’s begun to feel a bit more at ease. A bit of it has to do with the relaxed posture of his companion, but most of it has to do with the answers he’s already been given. This guy doesn’t really have a plan, it doesn’t seem like. He doesn’t appear to have any ill-intentions for right now.

“Seems kind of like a waste to put so much effort into a minute of conversation.”

He hums. It appears that he has as much curiosity about this new personality as it does about him. He knows it could be a bad idea to spend more time together, but… He’s reasonably sure that if anything truly treacherous were to occur, his own dark half would take over. Ryou is still the only person that can house him long term, after all.

He would argue it was a virtue. If anyone were to dare challenge him on the topic. Not that that would happen.

After Ryou has turned away, the request settled on him. Some questions? Genuine suprised dawned on his face for the briefest moment.

He was a little more hesitant, moving off the wall to follow the other at his side. Not something- He had ever done. Perhaps as a small boy through the tombs before the split he would walk along side Odion, or father... but never after.

THE DOMINO BUDDIES !!!

THE DOMINO BUDDIES !!!