((Marik is the light, Malik is the dark, please don't kill me for the awfulness. Don't own YGO.))

All Hail Sexy God Marik Ishtar

Bakura made tiny, swirly patterns absently with his index finger in the shaving creme Ryou had put on the little wooden desk for him. "So, tell me again... What exactly is your plan?"

"It's simple," the young Ishtar teen said in a slow voice. "You will distract Ryou and Malik, whilst I sneak out and gather worshippers. According to the rules of Advanced Monster World version 3.5, once I gain enough worshippers, I will become a God."

Bakura considered this, obviously while still completing his doodle of maiming the pharaoh with one of those funny rake things. "But Monster World is just a game," Bakura told him hesitantly. Marik grinned.

"Ahh, but so is Duel Monsters," he pointed out, and they both took a moment to nod knowingly.

Bakura was now scrutinizing fiercely his shaving-creme saturated finger. "So, what do I get out of this?" Bakura said, casting a suspicious glance at his friend. Marik smiled at him politely.

"Simple; you'll be my pope, Sexy God Marik Ishtar's All Mighty Pope of Evilness," Marik explained with practiced charisma. Bakura nodded a few times.

"Well, all right, all right. I'll help you," Bakura finally conceded. A mad grin broke Marik's face.

"Excellent! Let the plan commence!" he shouted dramatically.

"Aye!" Bakura yelled, far too much in a completely unrelated moment, sticking his finger in his mouth and then falling into spasms on the floor, foaming at the mouth.

Marik blinked, backed up slowly, and then ran from the building before Ryou or Malik could see him.

0 0 0

Marik was striding confidently down the busy Domino streets, humming to himself, when he crashed into Yami. Blinking several times, he tried to remember what he was doing.

"What are you doing?" the pharaoh snapped. Marik shrugged.

"Hey, Pharaoh, I'm sorry for the whole evil, destroy the world, trap everyone you know and love in the shadow realm thing," Marik said sincerely in a sudden explosion of near-intelligence. Yami smiled smugly.

"Well, I suppose that's all ri- Hey, wait a minute," he stopped mid-sentence, looking suspiciously at Marik. "How did we get our own bodies?" he asked firmly. Marik shrugged again.

"Convenient plot device?" he suggested.

Yami waved a hand dismmissively. "Nah, more likely than not it's just a lazy authoress," he said. Marik nodded.

"Yeah, you're probably right. So, you were saying?" Marik prompted. Yami blinked.

"I have no idea..."

There was an awkward silence.

"So, wanna get a tattoo on your back that says 'All Hail Sexy God Marik Ishtar' as a show of forgiveness and your utter superiority to me?" Marik offered.

Yami twisted his face around, tying to figure out the logic in that. Eventually giving up for the effort being too great, he shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Marik smiled and continued walking. Only four more to go. I mean, five ought to be enough, right?