#conspireboyz

The tapping would have been enough to rouse Ryou from his current task of painting figurines, but the shouting at the window caused him to jump in his seat, a squeak of surprise escaping his lips. When he turned to see Marik, he heaved a sigh and walked over, opening the window. “The front door is unlocked,” he gasped. It took a second for his brain to try and piece together what the other had said. “I’m sorry....what did you need?”

“You should get used to snakes. I am going to remain as one for a long time.”

Pharaoh germs might, the most foul and repulsive of all germs.

//shhhh, your Melvin is a precious boi. Ryou loves his friend. He will murder anyone who takes him away. ....or.... maybe put tiny sweaters on voodoo dolls of them so they suffer a bit in this heat.

*just glares at him* Marik. This is not the time. Don't touch me. And don't be sad about this, just go have your fun with other people. Alright?

“There’s no reason to be sad now.” He said again, like he thought Marik had simply misunderstood him. But for someone trained since he was created to be able to shut down his emotions outwardly it did seem like Marik was purposefully not doing an easy thing for some bizarre reason. “So no more crying. I’m the upset one, not you.”

“Clearly.” Godling said with a sigh, looking critically at Marik with minimal caring for his apology. “Don’t be quiet, just don’t say things like that again. Comparing me to a Pharaoh? That is extremely inappropriate.”

“Do you think that makes me feel better Ishtar? I’m marginally better than the Pharaoh, am I? How fucking wonderful for me. Go away.”