NEKO: I know, I know. Why the hell am I posting this crap and not updating HPLOD. Two words. Brick Wall.
RYOU: She means writer's brick block. She's got it bad.
MALIK: Where the hell did you get this pile of shit Neko?
NEKO: (Sarcastically) I pulled it out of my ass.
MALIK: Really?
NEKO: (Rolls eyes) Where do you think I got it from?
RYOU: Random whim?
NEKO: I suppose you could say that.
BAKURA: Why the hell did you (Neko covers his mouth, muffling the last part)
NEKO: Don't give it away!
RYOU: Neko owns a cane sword, a pair of Octagon Sais, and a "The Last Samurai" sword trio, but she doesn't own Yugioh.
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Desert Assassination
The blazing sun beat down unmercifully onto his bare torso, causing it to glisten with a light sheen of sweat. The heat from the sand seared through his sandles, making his sore feet burn. The white cloth of his kilt was dark with sweat and sand. Gold, precious, and semiprecious stones glinted from around his wrists, arms, and fingers. Dark brown eyes glared accusingly across the sea of sand, as if it was the sand's fault he was there. Long white hair ruffled in the breeze, a breeze which only worsened the heat. An olive colored hand reached up to brush the snowy locks out of his face.
Bakura continued to walk across the desert. He had no food, no water, no turban. Nothing except the small dagger he carried hidden in his kilt. A low growl emitted from his throat. "Damn him," he snarled, kicking at the sand. "Ra damn him to the mouth of Ammut." He continued on his journey, keeping a leisurely pace as to not exert too much energy. If he used too much energy getting to his destination, he would have to stop to rest longer and thus, risk being found and captured. And it just wouldn't be fitting for the King of Thieves to be caught before he could get his revenge.
Several hours later just as the sun slid below the horizon, Bakura reached his destination. He smirked as he approached the city, excitement beginning to course through his body. The Golden City was where it had started. The Golden City was where it would end. Bakura's eyes flashed as he walked into the city and slipped into a low-class tavern. Putting a lapis lazuli encrusted bracelet on the table, he ordered food and drink which was promptly brought by the poor tavern-keeper. Bakura ate quickly, wanting to finish his mission before too long. Once done, he left and began making his way toward the royal palace.
The guards weren't an issue. Bakura simply bribed them with a bracelet or a ring and they let him through. No, the guards weren't what he had to worry about. The people he had to worry about were the priests and priestesses, namely the priest Mahaddo who was the pharaoh's personal guard. The man was quick in speed and wit with a dangerous amount of power. Bakura would have to be very careful and avoid a confrontation with him at all costs. Once Bakura entered the palace he stopped a small slave girl.
"Where can I find Per'ah?" he asked her.
"He's in a meeting," the girl said. "You'll find him in the Royal Hall."
"And where is the Royal Hall?" She pointed in the direction she had come from.
"Down that way. It's the last door on the North."
"Thank you." She nodded and hurried off to do whatever she was supposed to be doing. Bakura followed her directions and was surprised to find that no guards were at the entrance. However, to just walk in was to invite death. Mahaddo would be in there for sure, so Bakura wouldn't be able to get close enough to use his dagger. He had to find another way in.
He went back and found another hallway, lining the Royal Hall. He followed it until he found a small wooden door used by slaves. He slid the door open just enough to see where he would end up and whether Mahaddo would see him or not. No, he was behind Mahaddo's line of sight, as well as the pharaoh's person. He smirked. Perfect. He waited until everyone turned towards the main door at the sound of a knock and shot forward pulling his dagger. He went behind the pharaoh, slit his throat, and ran for the door to make his escape. Unfortunately, he had been seen.
"Assassin!" he heard Mahaddo shout. "Capture him!" Bakura reached out to grab the door but two pairs of hands grabbed him, stopping him from reaching his goal.
"Now, where do you think you're going?" sneered a voice. Bakura turned to glare at Seth, another of the priests, who smirked in triumph.
"Per'ah." Bakura smirked as Mahaddo's voice was filled with sorrow and regret. "Please forgive me for my negligence."
"Mahaddo," came the soft gurgling whisper of the pharaoh, "You... are forgiven. See to it... that he... is executed." There was a pause and then, "Osiris... is waiting. Mahaddo... goodbye... old friend." A last breath sounded as the pharaoh passed into the afterlife.
"Per'ah!" Mahaddo let out a cry of pain and rage. Bakura smirked at the tears coursing down the man's face. Suddenly, Mahaddo stood and whirled in Bakura's direction. "Your execution," he hissed through gritted teeth, "Will be when Ra awakens. Take him to the dungeons. Shackle him to the wall."
"Of course Mahaddo," Seth murmured. The two priests handed Bakura off to a pair of guards who received Mahaddo's instructions from Seth. Bakura was taken to the dungeons, shackled across from the tiny window, and left alone. For the rest of the night, Bakura thought about what had led up to the situation. The years of planning, constant training, and the feelings of hatred at what the pharaoh had done.
"Marik," he said mournfully. "Everything ended that night. The night all of this started. The night you were killed." He looked out the window to the stars. "He killed you!" he screamed to the stars. "He killed you and laughed as he did it! You had done nothing, you were innocent! But he killed you simply for his enjoyment!" Tears poured down Bakura's face. "He killed you," he murmured turning his gaze to the dirt floor of the cell, "And because of that, I swore that I would kill him or die trying." Bakura shook his head, trying to clear his vision. "Marik," he whispered, "I will see you soon. I love you, my habibi." That night, sobs sounded in mourning for the young pharaoh whom had passed on long before his time. But the wails that lingered long after all the others faded, the ones that could be heard all across the city, were from a lone broken hearted assassin.
The next morning Bakura was led to the execution block. His crimes were read to the watching civilians and he was shoved down so his neck was exposed. Bakura looked out over the jeering crowd, indifferent to them. The last thing Bakura saw before his life ended, was a pair of malicious violet eyes watching him from the crowd.
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NEKO: It sucks, I know. (Slinks over to Amber who pulls Neko into her lap)
MARIK: What the fuck kind of ending was that?
NEKO: A shitty one.
RYOU: (Sighs) Ummm, you can review if you want… or you can just ignore us. You're choice. (Glances over at Neko and Amber) (Sees them cuddling) I'm leaving now… (Slips out the door, followed by Marik)
