The Dance of the Macabre
For Hirari-san
Missheru: hugging a television set that is playing the Matrix I WUUUUUV you…
Mokuba: Nii-sama, this movie's really boring.
Seto: I don't think the movie itself is really the issue here. ( 000) VALDEZ, DETACH YOURSELF FROM THE FUCKING TV!
Missheru: Fine then. inserts 007 instead YAY! I WUUUUUV YOU JAMES BOND! proceeds to continue embracing television and preventing all from even glimpsing the screen But, he could never replace a certain special someone…hey, hey, hey, Seto-sama! YOU'RE A BRICK HOUSE!
Seto: How is that an accolade in any way, shape, or form? (V ++++)
Missheru: Even now, I have trouble sometimes though. I wonder whether Seto-sama is more comparable to the poised, à la mode, pleasantly monochrome Neo or gadget-infested, womanizing glitziness of James Bond--the very fact that Keanu is more average-looking already appeals to me, yet Pierce Brosman's got blue eyes…difficult decision…
Seto: Easy enough. The numerous individuals that play as James Bond are all incompetent, amateurish, old farts, and Keanu Reeves has absolutely no physical or verbal appeal.
Missheru: TT sobbing HEY, JAMES BOND WAS YOUNG AND HOTT IN THE 70'S, YOU MEANIE! MAY THE DEMON LORD CURSE YOU FOREVERMORE!!!
Seto: D--demon lord…?
Jounouchi: stumbling in from over-consumption of some type of expired alcoholic drink I was workin' in the lab late one night, when my eyes beheld an eerie sight-- begins vomiting
Missheru: completely overlooking Jounouchi's condition OMIGOD! I LOVE THAT SONG! dancing For my monster from his slab began to rise, and suddenly--
All: Yuu-tachi magically enters --TO MY SURPRISE!
Missheru: screaming HE DID THE MASH!!!!! (A/N: How tha' hell do you even do the Monster Mash, anyway?)
Seto: Make it stop…! covering ears but suddenly notices Atemu Hm? Oh, Yuugi, it's you. What a…pleasant surprise…
Atemu: Cut the crap. You know what this meeting is all about.
Seto: smirk Fine. You certainly don't 'beat around the bush,' do you?
Atemu: THIS IS ABOUT THAT DAMN ORGY AND MY LAWFUL PLACE OVER HIRARI-SAN!
Hirari: O.O000
Seto: You know as well as I do that I've permanently stripped you of that position, pharaoh. Save yourself the irritating speech and just admit it: Johnson belongs to me. (A/N: Wow, that didn't sound wrong-- // Johnson: smacking down his stupid gaveling with the stupid, nasally voice Court is now in session!)
Atemu: obviously trying WAAAAY too hard to make an impression W--w--WELL! SHE IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT SOME PETTY TROPHY TO BE WON! SHE'S A RESPECTABLE WOMAN WITH FREE WILL AND EMOTION! HAVING HER UNDER YOUR CUSTODY WOULD ONLY MAKE HER SUBJECT TO BECOMING AS GOOD AS A MANNEQUIN WITH NO PARTAKE IN HER OWN LIFESTYLE, YOU…YOU…you…YOU OVER-DOMINEERING EGOMANIAC!
Seto: Hmph. We'll just see about that, you addlepated twit--
Seto & Atemu: dramatic poses YOU AND ME! KARAOKE! RIGHT NOW!!!
All: 000
Jounouchi: raising arm Tequila' number one…! continues retching a bit more
Seto: borrowing a bit of Jounou's liquor, knowing he'll urgently need it to successfully do this and clears throat I will be singing, "You Will Never Find A Love Like Mine" by Lou Rawls.
Atemu: also bingeing on cocktails I will be doing Jackie DeShannon's "What The World Needs Now Is Love," thank you.
Hirari: H--hey, look, you two! You really don't have to do this--
Seto & Atemu: jerk toward her DID WE ASK YOUR OPINION?!
(AN HOUR LATER)
Hirari: head in hands This is extremely unappealing. VV+++
Missheru: I think it's kinda' funny.
Seto: smashed beyond all mortal conception and playing piano drunk as well You'll never find…as long as you live…someone who loves you, tender, like I do…
Jounouchi: off-key…actually…is he even fucking singing? 'CUZ HE LIKES 'IS WOMEN SAUTÉED AN' FRESH, FO' SHIZZLE! WHOO-HOO, YUMMAY! AN' THAT IS WHY I AM A' THA' CHICKEN OF THIS DREAM CRUISE! chug-a-lug chug-a-lug
Seto: #XX# Dog, I really think you should drink a bit slower. Above and beyond, you're getting most of the alcohol here.
Jounouchi: IT'S YOU AN' ME TA'GETHER, KAIBA-BOBASA! DON'TCHYA GET IT, MAN?! WE'RE ON A MISSION FA' WOMAN OF THE ENTI' UNITED NATIONS!
Bobasa: in a hissy fit DO NOT COMPARE MY VOLUPTUOUS STATURE TO THAT STICK-MAN, YOU STUPID KATSUYA MAN!
Seto: (((OO)))) I'm really not catching your drift here. And that's a bad sign, even from you.
Jounouchi: EDUCATION! ravaging the buffet table IT'S LIKE THIS HERE YAKITORI! I'M THE FRIED MEAT, AN' YA THA' GREEN ONIONS, SO WE' ON A MISSION FROM GOD TA' BE SUSHI CAPTAINS EVERYWHERE!
Seto: Wow, I only took in about a quarter of that nonsense you just spouted out.
Jounouchi: slurred Which is exacto-ly why I'm tha' smart one an' ya tha' stupid one…! Aghhhh… collapses while foaming at the mouth
Seto: Y'know, just pass out tonight, and sleep-barf yourself into Hendrix's duplicate death for all I care. I'm not going to bind your head over the toilet bowl again and hold that bird nest you call hair back from that foul mouth of yours.
Yuugi: OO Don't you think you guys should stop drinking? I mean, alcohol has damaging repercussions--
Atemu: evidently molesting his microphone --What the world…needs now…is love, sweet love. No not just for some, but for everyone…! And I need white-whine spritzers!
Pegasus: A bit gorgonzola with a dash doesn't hurt either, dearest.
Missheru: SO WHILE SHE LAY THERE SLEEPING, I READ THE PAPER IN BED! AND IN THE PERSONAL COLUMNS, THERE WAS THIS LETTER I READ: "IF YOU LIKE PINA COLADAS, AN' GETTIN' CAUGHT IN THE RAIN…IF YOU'RE NOT INTO YOGA, IF YOU HAVE HALF A BRAIN! IF YOU LIKE MAKIN' LOVE AT MIDNIGHT, THEN I'M THE LOVE THAT YOU'VE LOOKED FOR! WRITE TO ME AN' ESCAPE--!" notices her karaoke score decrease by the second and drops the microphone angrily Aw, screw it. Those goddamn machines rate you on how drunk you are while you're singing it--
Hirari: clutching head I think you just blatantly sucked, Missheru-san. +++
Yuugi: No offense, or anything. But I can't help but agree.
(A/N: ca-choo-chooing like the Little Engine That Could I can do this, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this…DAMN! I've written Gouzaburou/12-year-old Seto for Christ's sake! WHY IS This SUDDENLY SO DAMN AWKWARD?!
Seto: finally taking in what she'd said so incoherently Wait. WHAT THA' HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?!!! attempting to throttle her
Missheru: RELAX, DON'T DO IT, WHEN YOU WANNA GO TO IT!!! RELAX, DON'T DO IT, WHEN YOU WANNA COME!!! RELAX, DON'T DO IT--damn, I gotta write this stupid sexual orientation paper at the same time…! knocked unconscious
Seto: wielding his New Years paddle That'll show that condescending, little…)
The title "The Dance of the Macabre" I actually picked up from an opus composed by a Frenchman after he'd read a limerick about demons of the night giving nightly rise to cadavers from their graves who'd waltz to horrifying tunes, until sunrise would come where they would rush to their cemeteries yet again and wait for darkness to return to them…thus, the opening sequence--gimme a break, I tried to be poetic with it. 0 And, apparently, because I'm just so fucked up in the head, I threw in Sleeping Beauty allusions here.
Let's Dance!…to a requiem?
The ballet of macabre--a pageant of moldering corpses of an indigenous necropolis…garlanded in their finest, somewhat unfulfilling dress, fleshless tibias jangling with the chords of the pianist, with cock-crow upon its wake. The short while the gods would smear their valiant dyes thrice of rubies, whites, and vapors among the slumbering universe would be the moment their festivities would clatter to a lethal end--that is to say, until twilight returned again to the skeletal recitalists.
"Oh, great Aurora…indeed she is named after the light of day, as she is the greatest light of a dreamer's heart in times of deep, dark despair; shone with brightness, with dazzling hope. So lo and behold, as fate has it, it is the same peasant girl that you'd met with but yester night! But she is indeed wondrous fair…lips that undoubtedly shame the red, red rose, and hair gold like sunshine…locked away in yonder tower, awaiting true love's first kiss."
The spangled glare of an activated camcorder shone directly into camera-shy, shimmering, youthful bottle green eyes. A wince instinctively tore through the youngster's unripe form as the backdrop began to unfurl like a storybook itself…an underground store scattered with the predictable power-house tools, the loose ends of kaput furnishings, a murky stretch lit alone by the glare of the camera, all else a tight straggle of darkness enfolding her crowned head with glittering fists.
An unwelcome, silhouetted form lingered behind the tripod--the little light playing upon fully developed features deceptively telling an adolescent. Her throat hardly even materialized dust for words, "Wh…wha…?"
Gawking down toward childlike palms bathed by the reddish glow of the mechanism, her stare tweaked upward--as if shaken out of a slow slumber--addressed with the syrupy tone of the mysterious individual. The way she spoke seemed as if she was no more than a few two years out of the womb.
"…Is something wrong? D'you--not want to do it?"
A smothered, tight nerve in her chest sent a ripple of paralysis throughout the rest of her body, "I--I don't…I…"
"Please don't make her do this--!"
Once differentiating the shrill little voice that'd greatly clashed with the rich, nearly indigestible tenor of the full-grown adult before her, worn retinas bit by bit focused on the tiny silhouette just beside her, until the freckled picture pushed together its stray pieces to take shape into an adoring, bug-eyed, pining, self-denying little damsel left to mosey for his redeemer. A boy just a bit taller than herself, swerving once toward her with a swirl of his golden bangs, divulging doting amethyst streaked with tears…undersized figure draped in a silk tunic, buckle, and hose. No, he was a prince…
…Did that make her the damsel in distress? She'd always felt a bit of puppy-love for him, after all.
"Ahh--!"
The unknown entity lurched out from the pane of obscurity, seizing the boy's forearm with a lithe, coppery limb and wrenching it violently behind the five-year-old, making any struggle futile and more of a nourishing encounter to the sadistic seducer clinching the writhing form within his maniacal grasp. "You keep your mouth shut, precious. Boys--or princes--don't cry, so if you'd like to continue playing this role you'd find it in your best interest to make it certain I don't hear another sound come out of you for the rest of this shoot…is that clear?"
Much to the tot's wonder, he was brutally tossed onto ground--much like the sack of the potatoes he unquestionably weighed as much as--and was unpleasantly met raw wrist first with the solid base, body atop, yelped and sniveled a bit, and began apologizing for the naughtiness that never came to be as he managed to shakily lift himself again off the concrete. "I'm sorry…I won't cry…I didn't mean to…"
"Yuugi-kun!"
"This is a very important role. That's exactly why I gave it to you, Hirari-chan. I knew you would understand that this is a fairy-tale, after all, it's a romance. I knew you would understand that princes and princesses that truly feel affection for each other would do this. Aurora wakes up from true love's first kiss…you've read the story, haven't you?"
Surprise overtook the little girl's features. She dared to undertake the sputter of her voice, even with the niggling bulge throttling in her tiny throat, and viscous fluids mingling with the opening to her throat. "Y--yes."
Jittery, disenchanted emerald veiled in curls of white darted about the concrete floors, in startled study of the rustic, puckish casts of jet black teasing the naked tips of her toes. Boy, was it cold without shoes. In any case, the view was a much more tempting substitute to staring directly into those menacing, harried, cataclysmic eyes. Unfortunately, to the child's shock, a gingery palm graced their not-so gentle touch upon milky jowls and steered her unsettled eyes directly into the teen's. She stared directly into nothingness, while he witnessed unconditional beauty at the mere lift-off to its peak.
The lithe, cool flounce of the youth's ring finger along the curve of her brow sent the barest preschool blond curl on end. What was it that he asked of her? Hirari could see the bloodlust in the male's spine-chilling grin and almost knew--
"You've been given the most important role, beloved. This story is about the love between Prince Phillip and Princess Aurora, right? I'm not demanding a lot from you. Just be a good little girl and do exactly as I say…" the despot's physique crouched down promptly toward the trembling little kindergartner, brushing slick lips past the tyke's whitish, virginal ear, and whirlpooling an absolute firestorm into the dead deepness. "…And you'll be a celebrity in no time."
"B--but I don't wanna…I don't wanna do that, mister--! I'm real sorry if I was bad girl! Please, mister, please--! I don't wanna play this game--!!!"
His freed, bronzed hand reached up and mauled the small of her tiny back--receiving a sizeable squirm--in favor of exposing the upper clip to her scarlet costume ball gown, fabric rustling beneath his duress. His nail drove down uncouthly, metal hinge leisurely flitting out from the other, giving way to petite, moon-pale shoulder blades. Her head hung over as she gave out a rasping sob, bullion tiara plummeting from her golden head, and colliding onto the dinginess of the ground with a smithereen of plastic shatters.
"No…! Please, no…!"
"Just undo these buttons on your dress--it's not that hard now, is it? D'you need me to help you…?"
Twisting, writhing and struggling under a hold of a fully grown man, clinching onto a small, pale and crying form beneath him.
"Don't touch me…!"
The girl doesn't feel the thrust; she only saw the light of the camera shining in her bottle green eyes, the breathing of the man above her, her own screams. Men around her; they've all blurred into the same. Laughing, mocking, sadistic smiles and unearthly stares at her naked, raped form. The tears flow, running red from the burst veins in her eyes. They run down her face, reddish, mouth also bleeding from the rupture in her throat.
"Please, please, please, leave me alone…Someone help me…! HELP--!"
The battered form laying limp and used, eyes shut, dead to the screams of all. She screams, screams for her own life as the blood pools beneath her and past her thighs, screams for her sister, her mother, anyone. They're gone. She is gone, too. She died there, even if she doesn't realize it yet.
She whimpers as hands leave the pinning of her arms and go to her shoulders, shaking, while sobbing more, unable to take the horror forced upon her. Hirari…the name calls out from the dark. What was there? Hirari…again…where was she? The horror slowly slips away.
Suddenly, she snapped out from the nightmare, only to plunge blindly into yet another.
In a bed. So cold…so cold…billows ribboning about pale-blue lips with every pant in and out, more violently with each one.
Her vision knifes through the frozen air for even the slightest trace of recognition.
Somehow, enigmatically, she could tell she'd been here before. But where? Dark…maroon walls, black ceiling. A portrait of a man hanging on one wall. That man…tall, robust, Japanese, with evil lurking just beneath those yellow eyes. Are they yellow? No…more like amber…amber-eyed man in about his fifties, black hair neatly cropped to his scalp on the sides and the top.
She'd been positive in seeing that man before…but who was he?
The door just before her eyes. She could make out a distinct outline of light all around it, framing it. There was light outside the room. But why couldn't she seem to reach it?
A howl of nature manically enters the room through an open window, setting a new coat of goose-bumps and frost on milky skin. The secret of the cold was explained suddenly. She knew she should've shut the open window…but why couldn't she?
Hirari knew exactly why she was here…what was the reason again, though? She knew, in all honesty. She just couldn't seem to strike the exact mark…if only she could remember…oh, if she could just remember, after all, she only wanted out of the bad Nine-Inch Nails dream sequence…why? Why? Why was she here?
Think…why are you here? Easy enough, but the response didn't grace her with its presence.
No, nothing.
Tears form in the outlines of her eyes. Fear. There was another type of cold in the room, the freeze gripping the inside of her chest cavity with strong, but dead, fingers. Fear consumed her to the point of dizziness. Panting began to come out shakily. Breathing was getting to be a difficult task…and she could remember nothing.
A tear trickled just along her left cheek, leaving a marked trail of stinging ruby along frozen skin. If she could just remember, if she could get up and close the open, blustery window, if she could only…if only…
Another gust of wind. She exhaled, a swirl of white snaking again from bared jaws. It was so damn cold…why was it so fucking cold?
She looked down and gasped at what she'd conceived: naked. And pale wrists were handcuffed to the…bed post. Hirari looked around frenetically. Trapped.
Her tears, strangely, stopped. Her fear was beginning to take a new turn, a much more different turn. The pain no longer crushed her torso. It was beginning to fester everywhere.
Suddenly she began to remember why she was where she was…
