Of Wizards and Duelists …
XO'MagickMoon'OX
A/N: Okay, first of all, more dialogue from OotP: not mine! Belongs to J. K. Rowling! Okay, now that that's cleared up, I want to say something: many people were wondering why I put Malik in Ravenclaw. Don't you think he's a bit clever and intelligent? I mean, I think he and Isis both are Ravenclaw material, what with the things they had to go through and learn as children, growing up as tomb keepers. And think of the things he plotted when he had that little "I'm angry and twisted and I want to dominate the world" spell of his in the Battle City arc. He'd have to have some sort of developed mind to come up with all that! Well, my apologies if you strongly believe he belongs in a different House, but he just always seemed like the intelligent kind to me.
Oh, and sorry for the late update! I've had a horrible case of writer's block …
Okay, now on with the chapter!
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The next morning dawned bright and beautiful, and the sky in the Great Hall was a vibrant blue marbled with white. Malik sat down among the Ravenclaws, and Yuugi and Ryou were seated with the Gryffindors during breakfast, as would be the seating arrangement for the rest of the year. But, the trio was determined to not be separated, so after Malik had hurriedly finished his meal, he made his way towards the Gryffindor table.
Yuugi sat across from Ryou, talking merrily with Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Harry and Hermione sat next to Ryou, and then Ron was next to Yuugi. On the other side of the redhead sat Neville, followed by the Weasley twins who were hunched over a piece of parchment, chatting excitedly with Lee.
"So, Yuugi," Hermione said as she stabbed at her eggs, "what does your name mean, exactly?"
"Well –" Yuugi began, before a familiar voice cut him off.
"It means 'game'."
Yuugi looked up to see Malik hovering over him, smiling. Yuugi smiled back and nodded. "Yup!"
Yuugi moved over a little to make room for his friend. Malik sat down between Yuugi and Ron, ignoring the stares that some of the students in the Hall were giving him, both boys and girls alike. It was unusual for someone from one House to just sit down at the table of another House, even if the people the person was sitting with were their friends. But soon everyone went back to their business.
"And it suits him well," Malik continued. "Yuugi is the 'King of Games'."
"What's that mean?" Ron asked before taking a bite out of his toast.
"It means that he dueled in the biggest Duel Monsters tournaments and won first place, earning his title. He beat Seto Kaiba … and even Pegasus, the creator of the card game." Malik grinned, proud of his friend, who was blushing.
"Sorry mate, I'm still not following," Ron said.
Malik frowned. "You do know what Duel Monsters is, right?"
Everyone within earshot who was listening to the conversation shook their heads.
Ryou, Malik, and Yuugi gaped, awestruck.
"It's a very popular game … well, at least in Japan," Yuugi explained. He pulled a small, rectangular box out of his robes and opened it, removing the deck of cards held within it. He took a few and fanned them out in front of Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Neville.
Hermione took the cards and stared at them. "'Dark Magician' … 'Trap Hole' … 'Obelisk the Tormentor' … my, they're gruesome looking. Except for this Dark Magician here; he's handsome." Ron leaned over the table and pulled Hermione's hand towards him. A slight blush crept across her face as he touched her, but he didn't seem to notice. Harry, too, leaned towards his friend to observe the strange cards. Yuugi had handed Neville a few, as well.
"What do you do with them?" Neville wondered.
"Why, you duel," Malik said, as if it were as obvious as elementary arithmetic.
Yuugi collected his cards back from Hermione and Neville and returned them to his deck before stowing it away in its box, which was then pocketed. "But they're sometimes more trouble than they're worth," he muttered bitterly.
"Eh, don't blame the cards," Malik said, slinging an arm around Yuugi's shoulder. "It's the way people use them. Really, they would be nothing more than harmless pieces of cardboard did they not have such a dark history. And when you throw the Shadow Realm and Millennium Items into the mix, they become all the more dangerous."
"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked.
Malik turned to the bushy-haired girl. "Well, there have been some people in the recent past that have used the game of Duel Monsters and some dangerous magick to get what they want. For Pegasus, the man who created the cards, he hosted a tournament called Duelist Kingdom to lure Yuugi and a few others to him and gather all of the Millennium Items. Pegasus was convinced that he would be the victor in the end, but Yuugi proved him wrong, and rescued a whole bunch of people in the process. Yuugi seems to do that a lot … save the world, that is." Malik beamed; Yuugi's face just turned an interesting shade of pink.
"Malik, please … it's not all me. Yam –"
"What are the 'Millennium Items'?" Harry interrupted.
"Oh, well …" Malik pointed at the Millennium Puzzle that was hanging around Yuugi's neck, gleaming in the light of the Hall. "This is the Millennium Puzzle, and that," he gestured towards Ryou's amulet, "is the Millennium Ring. There are other Items, too, like the Millennium Rod, the Millennium Necklace, the Millennium Eye, the Millennium Scales, and so on. I had the Rod not too long ago, and my sister had the Necklace. Pegasus had the Eye, until someone stole it from him."
Standing behind Ryou, Bakura's spirit sniggered. No one had yet realized that it was he who had taken it from Pegasus.
"'Had'," Hermione repeated. "You mean, you don't have them anymore?"
"Oh no," Malik said. "We weren't destined to have them, at least not permanently."
"What do they do? The Items, I mean," Harry inquired, observing the golden pyramid Yuugi was wearing.
"Each has a different power, and they can house spirits of the past," Malik explained vaguely. "Well, the Ring can act as a compass, right Ryou?" The white-haired boy, staring down at his plate, nodded. "And the Rod can give the holder the ability to control minds. The Necklace can allow the wearer to look into the future, and the Eye can let the person read other's minds. You see, the reason Pegasus was such an accomplished duelist was because he would cheat using his Millennium Item, reading his opponent's moves before they carried them out with his Millennium Eye. But when Yuugi dueled him, he found a way around Pegasus' trick, and beat him."
"Where did they come from? … Who created them?" Hermione asked.
Malik passed Yuugi a knowing, sidelong glance. "A noble pharaoh from ancient Egypt."
Yuugi grinned, taking a bite of his sausage.
"So this Pegasus character used his … er … Item to cheat. Well, what did you do with the Rod, Malik?" Ron asked.
Ryou choked on his food, quickly grabbing his goblet and taking a drink. Yuugi dropped his fork, but Malik just looked down at his hands, his expression one of great solemnity.
"Terrible things," he murmured. "If it hadn't been for Yuugi, many innocent people would've died."
Yuugi placed a hand on Malik's arm. "I really didn't do anything. It was all Yami, and if it weren't and the rest of the gang – Jounouchi, Anzu, Honda, Otogi … even the Kaiba brothers and Ryou, and Isis, Rishid, and you –"
Malik slammed his fist on the table. "ME?" he cried incredulously. "It was all my fault! What the hell did I do to help?"
"Malik … it wasn't you; it was your yami that was causing all of the trouble."
Malik shook his head. "But I created him! And I started it all! He simply picked up where I refused to go on."
"Exactly! You realized what you were doing and tried to stop it!" Yuugi pointed out. "You had the biggest part in destroying your yami and ending all of the chaos."
"What the hell is a 'yami'?" Ron asked.
"'Yami' is Japanese for 'dark'," Yuugi said, skirting the actual point of the question. They had already gone out on a limb and explained about Duel Monsters and the Millennium Items, but how were they supposed to explain to these people about their alter-egos, their other halves?
"Well Yuugi," Hermione said, "you and Harry are a lot alike. He, too, saves the world on a regular basis. Maybe not from people who try to dominate humankind using a card game, but from other Dark forces."
"Who? That 'Lord Voldemort' guy?" Yuugi asked.
Hermione winced and nodded. "Pretty much every year he's got to fend off that madman, keep him from returning."
"Yeah," Harry mumbled, "I did a brilliant job of that last year."
"Harry," Hermione said in her matter-of-fact tone, "it was bound to happen sooner or later, him coming back and all. You couldn't ward him off forever all by yourself. But you've faced dangers most people can only imagine in their nightmares."
"Yeah, you made that very clear back in July," Ron muttered, referring to when Harry had exploded when they'd finally gotten together over the summer at the Order headquarters.
Harry nodded sheepishly.
Their conversation was cut short as owls began swooping in from the windows around the Hall. Yuugi, Ryou, and Malik looked up in surprise. Their eyes widened, and Ryou gasped.
"What the –?" Yuugi looked to Ron, Harry, and Hermione for an explanation.
"Oh, that's just the morning post. We deliver mail by owls. You'll get used to them," Hermione explained dismissively, finishing up her breakfast.
"Look at today!" Ron cried as he went over his schedule. "History of Magick, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts … Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day!"
"Hey, Malik," Yuugi said, looking over his schedule as well, "we have the first class with you! And Divination!"
Malik smiled. "Great!"
"But then we have double Potions with Slytherin," Harry grumbled.
"What's so wrong with Slytherin?" Malik asked, sensing the obvious resentment suddenly surrounding the Gryffindors.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville traded incredulous glances. Where did they begin?
"Well," Ron said, "Slytherin is the House of snobby pureblood freaks, all of whom have their noses so far up in the air they'd drown if they went out in the rain. They're cruel and sarcastic prats who love to make our lives living hells."
"And Malfoy is practically the Slytherin Prince, the Ruler of the Cruel and Sarcastic Prats," Harry added. "You'd do well to stay away from him."
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Gryffindor and Ravenclaw shuffled tiredly into the History of Magick classroom, though Ryou, Yuugi, and Malik couldn't understand why everyone was so unenthusiastic. Yet, no sooner had they taken their seats and their ghost of a teacher, Professor Binns, had begun speaking did they realize that this was quite possibly to dullest class there was. It didn't help that Binns had a monotonous voice and tended to go on and on, seemingly simply repeating the same lessons he'd given for the past some-odd years, not really paying any attention to his class, sometimes acting as if they weren't even there and he was teaching an empty classroom. Well, he certainly had the zeal of one teaching an empty classroom. Yuugi, Ryou, and Malik noticed that within ten minutes, more than half the class had lost what little interest they had in the lesson and were busying themselves with doodling or daydreaming.
Everyone was grateful when the bell rang; the students were sure that if they heard another word on giant wars, they'd go completely insane.
Next class was Potions, and sadly the trio had to part, Malik going off to Care of Magickal Creatures. As they came to the stairs which Ryou and Yuugi would descend into the dungeons, they said their temporary goodbyes to the blonde as he started down the hallway that would lead outside, following the rest of the Ravenclaws. He was unaware of Ryou's eyes following his shrinking form.
Why didn't I go with Malik in Ravenclaw? Ryou found himself wondering. Not that I have anything against Yuugi, I just would've preferred to go with Malik, now that I think about it, just to be around him …
Shut-up. I don't want you anywhere near that blonde pretty boy. He's nothing but a pain-in-the-ass, Bakura growled through their mind-link.
What do you have against Malik?
Everything.
That doesn't make any sense.
… Silence …
Koe?
… Silence …
Koe?
"Ryou?"
Ryou jumped at the sound of his name. He turned to Yuugi, finding that Malik was out of sight and had been for the past minute, although Ryou's gaze had been lingering on the corridor where the Egyptian had disappeared down.
"Ready?" Yuugi asked with a smile, all too used to the white-haired boy's constant zoning. "We're going to get left behind if we don't hurry," he said as he began down the steps.
"Right," Ryou murmured as he followed, his bag slung over his shoulder.
The air as they descended grew noticeably colder and danker and altogether uninviting. The stone walls changed in color from warm brown to dingy gray, and frighteningly enough, any window to be found in the first few hallways had iron bars stretching across the length of the openings. As they reached the Potions room, there were no longer any windows at all, as they were too far down. The only light came from the ugly orange glow of the torches.
The Gryffindors met up with the Slytherins, who seemed much more at home in the dank bowels of the school, outside the large irons doors of the classroom. Ryou and Yuugi noticed how the two Houses bristled in each other's presence, like wolves guarding their territories; hackles raised, fangs bared … it was a bit disconcerting, the hate that seemed to span the air between the groups.
And yet … the hate was slightly punctuated by something softer and sweeter, though it was so faint that only unnaturally sensitive entities would notice it, as if the aura was weakly resonating from one person.
And, let's just say that Bakura and the Pharaoh were unnaturally sensitive entities, and could sense with startling clarity that someone from one group felt affection for someone in the other, even if the affection was being suppressed by the person.
The tomb robber and Egyptian king were standing a little ways away from the students, Bakura's spirit leaning against the wall, arms crossed. They had also been present in the History of Magick class, standing in the back of the room out of earshot of their hosts, occasionally passing a snide comment between each other. Though, their jibes and jeers had been less heated than usual, almost bringing their quarrelling down to a harmless banter, though neither would admit it. They seemed to tacitly understand that, over the course of the long school year, they would be stuck together during Ryou and Yuugi's classes, as their hosts would be busy working studiously. They had no one to entertain them but each other, and for now, that seemed to be enough.
Bakura grudgingly admitted to himself that in the carriage he had actually had what could be considered a small conversational debate with the Pharaoh about love and weakness and strength. It had almost intrigued him, and he found himself itching for more conversation. He couldn't recall having a decent discussion with anyone since he was very young. Not even with Ryou had he ever talked and debated on an intellectual or philosophical level. Perhaps the Pharaoh could offer him what he unknowingly lusted after. Perhaps.
Then, the classroom door creaked open, pulling Bakura from his reverie. He and the Pharaoh followed the students as they filed into the musty dungeon. The two spirits stood again in the back of the room, watching as the professor called his class to order. It was the pale, dark-haired man they had seen sitting up at the staff table last night, the one that seemed to be scrutinizing the students with a vague distaste.
"Settle down," he drawled. He had a voice that carried a certain monotone and sickly sweetness that immediately gave one the impression of a harsh, misleading person, a person of whom all should be wary. Ryou and Yuugi caught onto this quickly, and realized why their three Gryffindor friends so dreaded Potions. Not to mention, they had to share it with the Gryffindors' most-hated rival, Slytherin.
Although, Bakura couldn't see why the House was so hated; he found them to be quite an interesting bunch, much as he'd speculated the previous night while Ryou was trying to decide which House he wanted to be in.
The class began, the students fervently trying to assemble the "Draught of Peace". The two spirits sensed the tension from the Gryffindors and the slightly easier air from the Slytherins as they worked.
Bakura walked around the perimeter, running his phantom fingertips over the jars lining the shelves standing against the walls. There were herbs and roots and fungi, liquids of every color, some transparent and some resembling a thick paste. There were claws and teeth, the vibrant, fiery feathers of a phoenix, essence of a unicorn horn, the hoof of a kelpie, scales of a dragon, purified sea water, and every stone or crystal imaginable, some in their natural forms and others ground down to a powder. Bakura was in awe; never had he seen such a plethora of ingredients in one room, and of such variety, too. There were shelves all around the room, covering almost every inch of wall in the front and rear, the more rare and potent ingredients behind the professor's desk. There were cauldrons stacked near the shelves, and spoons and ladles, vials and flasks packed neatly in a box by the board, where the professor had magickally conjured the instructions.
The Pharaoh watched the tomb robber with interest. He had never seen Bakura so enthralled and awestruck. The thief was skilled in Shadow Magick, as good as any priest, and obviously had a thing for potion-making. The Pharaoh enjoyed this atypical moment of normalcy that poked through Bakura's sarcastic and cruel exterior; for the thief to portray any emotion other than rage, scorn, malice, or nonchalant coolness was as rare as any foreign delicacy.
The Pharaoh couldn't help but chuckle, drawing Bakura's attention to him.
The thief scowled. "What?"
The other spirit just shook his spectral head. "Nothing."
Bakura huffed. He stepped silently across the stone floor and hopped onto the corner of a nearby desk, the student sitting at it oblivious to the spirit's presence. The Pharaoh was standing against the wall near the aforementioned desk, and now Bakura was facing him. The Egyptian king watched the other expectantly.
Bakura frowned thoughtfully, taking a deep breath, before saying, "You know, Pharaoh, we're going to be spending a lot of time together during these classes."
The Pharaoh nodded. "I know."
Bakura, seeing that fact firmly established, continued, "I was thinking that we could … talk."
The Pharaoh cocked an eyebrow. "About …?"
The thief looked away, blushing slightly. "I don't know," he said harshly. "Anything."
Bakura looked up as the Pharaoh chuckled. The white-haired spirit felt irritation bubbling up in his gut as he watched the Pharaoh smirk that little knowing smirk of his, acting like he's already finished the chapter while the rest of the class is still on the first page, like he knows something no one else does. It was irritating.
"Damn you," Bakura growled.
"Calm down, thief," the tri-color-haired spirit said in his smooth, demanding yet lighthearted voice. The voice of a king.
Bakura huffed. "I do have a name," he spat.
"As do I," the Pharaoh said calmly.
Bakura blinked. "… … …"
It had never really occurred to him that the Pharaoh had a name. Now that the thief thought about it, he had known the Pharaoh's name, back when they lived in ancient Egypt, but had never been of high enough social status to address him by it. Therefore, the Pharaoh's name just sort of disappeared into the recesses of Bakura's mind, and calling him 'Pharaoh' became as natural as calling Ryou 'Yadonushi'.
Bakura realized that the other spirit was still watching him. He blinked again. "Well? What is it?"
"You mean you don't even know my name?" the Pharaoh asked.
Bakura shook his head and noticed how the Pharaoh's expression went from incredulous and a bit shocked to sad and disappointed. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, but said nothing, as if deep in thought.
Bakura grew impatient, albeit a bit curious as to the Pharaoh's sudden solemnity. "What?"
The Pharaoh laughed dryly. "I just think it's a bit sad that no one remembers my name."
"Oh stop being so dramatic," Bakura said. "So what if I forgot your name –"
"Everyone forgot my name," the Pharaoh interrupted. "I'm not even a footnote in the history books. Ramses, Tutankhamun, Hatshepsut, Nefertiti, Cleopatra … but no Atemu." He opened his eyes and met Bakura's gaze. "Was I really that bad of a ruler?"
Bakura was taken aback. "I … er … uh …" he stuttered. This was something he'd never thought he'd be asked, especially not by the Pharaoh himself.
The Pharaoh shook his head. "Never mind."
Bakura relaxed and then thought for a moment. 'Atemu'? Right! That was his name! Pharaoh Atemu! Bakura cleared his throat. "Well … so you want me to call you Atemu, then?"
The Pharaoh smiled. "That would be nice."
"Well, then it's only fair that you call be Bakura and not 'thief' or 'tomb robber'," Bakura said, folding his arms.
The phar – er – Atemu nodded. "Very well." Atemu pushed himself off the wall and paced a bit up the aisle. Bakura jumped off the desk and followed.
"Hey … Atemu," Bakura said, the name a bit awkward on his tongue. "You know, you never did answer my question."
"Hmm? What question?"
"The one I asked you in the carriage."
Atemu turned to face Bakura. He glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on Yuugi and Ryou working in the front. Then his gaze fell on the door. "Let's not talk here," he murmured.
Bakura deemed that a good idea. Their hosts, after all, could hear the spirits, even if everyone else couldn't. He followed the Pharaoh out the door (which they simply had to faze through when dissipating their particles enough) and walked a little ways down the torch-lit corridor in comfortable silence.
Then Atemu stopped, taking a moment to close himself off from his and Yuugi's mind-link, advising Bakura to do the same. Even though their hosts would most likely be too preoccupied to eavesdrop through the link, it was still possible that they could accidentally overhear something that their yamis most certainly did not want them to hear.
Atemu took a deep breath, glancing around the corridor and leaning back against the wall before turning to Bakura. "Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I do love Yuugi."
Bakura grinned. "Ah, I see."
"And you love Ryou," Atemu said quite blatantly.
Bakura blanched, taking a wary step back, as if the accusation were a rabid dog cornering him. "I … I don't!" he stammered.
The Pharaoh sighed. "Yes, you do."
"How the hell would you know?" Bakura snapped.
"Because … I can sense it. Whenever you speak to him when you're out of the Ring, your tone is laced with underlying love, no matter how sardonic or cold-hearted you sound to everyone else. Remember, Bakura," Atemu tapped his temple with his pointer finger, "I am a spirit. Spirits are highly sensitive entities."
Bakura nodded. "So you could feel it, too, back before class started, when the students were in the hall?"
"You mean that aura of affection?"
"Uh-huh."
"Yes, I could feel it. I think someone in the Slytherin House has a crush on someone in Gryffindor."
Bakura bristled, momentarily flashing on Ryou. Already he was losing him to Malik, but someone else, too? … Wait. How was he so sure that the said Gryffindor was Ryou? Stop being paranoid, he scolded himself.
"But, you changed the subject," Atemu said. "You love Ryou."
Bakura froze. He rewound his last few thoughts and replayed them through his head. Maybe Atemu was right. Why was he worried about losing Ryou if he didn't have feelings for him? But … it was impossible. How could he have feelings for that boy? He was pathetic, weak, sniveling, frail, gentle, sweet, adorable, beautiful … The thief groaned, putting his head in his hands and sinking to his knees. Why was this happening? "I can't … love …him. Love is weakness."
Atemu sighed. "No, it's not. Only the hardened heart of a thief would lead you to believe so."
"But it's the truth that I live by," Bakura said, looking up. "To feel attachment to another living being is weakness."
Atemu tilted his head inquiringly. "Why?"
"There are many reasons. One, the person can be used against you, threatened by your enemies. Two, they can be cause for hesitation when quick thinking is dire. Three, they stand in your way when you try to achieve your goals. Four, they turn you soft, grinding down the sharp attitude that's needed to survive in a harsh world. Five –"
"Okay, okay. Stop there," the Pharaoh interrupted, holding up his hand. "Your philosophies are a bit twisted."
"No, yours are just too sweet. That's what happens when you lead the pampered, sheltered life of a royal. You have no idea what it's like growing up on the streets, where you're treated like a rat and fall prey to all the sick bastards that prowl the city at night, the thieves that take the last coin you have so you yourself have to resort to thieving just to survive. You don't know how harsh the world really is, and in this harsh world, the strong live and the weak die. And to become attached to another living being is weakness, hence, love is death."
Atemu was silent, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He sighed. "I see. Well, I strongly disagree. Love is strength. Have you ever had someone who's smile just made you feel ten times your actual might? Have you ever had someone who you just wanted to hold, just wanted to protect? Have you ever felt invincible by simply being in another's presence, like you can conquer anything? Have you ever had someone to fall back on when you felt grieved or strained or wretched, someone who just made every problem go away?"
Bakura dropped his gaze to the stone floor, saying nothing.
"Love is a blessing from Isis. Love in itself is a power greater than anything."
"Isis." Bakura said the name with great distaste. "She always was my least favorite deity."
"Perhaps you should not turn her away so readily."
"Atemu, open your eyes. Love is not a blessing, it's a curse! Does Yuugi even know how you feel?"
"Well … er … no –"
"Exactly! How is that a blessing? To be so close to the one you love, but to not feel your love returned! How is that a Ra-damned blessing? HOW?" Bakura wiped at his eyes, which had begun to sting. "Dammit …" he swore under his breath.
"Sometimes," Atemu said quietly, "just to be in love is enough."
"You speak in riddles," Bakura accused angrily.
"You just don't understand."
That was when the dungeon doors swung open and the class filed out. Ryou and Yuugi saw their yamis and waved. Atemu smiled but Bakura scowled, causing Ryou to shy away. The thief felt an immediate twinge of regret.
"Nice going, Potter. Can't even brew a decent potion, and it's only the first day!"
Harry, who had been following Hermione, Ron, Yuugi, and Ryou turned to meet flashing silver eyes. He glared.
"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry spat.
Atemu and Bakura, who were standing beside the group, watched as Draco stepped up to Harry. He looked the raven-haired boy straight in the eye, their noses nearly touching. Harry could feel Draco's warm breath on his face as he said, "Watch it, Potter," his voice dripping with venom. Harry was a bit uncomfortable with the close proximity of the blonde, but never ceased his glare. Draco smirked, before joining his friends as they went down to the Great Hall for lunch.
Harry let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"That was weird," Ron muttered as he came up beside Harry.
Harry nodded.
Atemu and Bakura traded knowing glances as they felt the familiar affectionate aura receding down the hall after the Slytherins.
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Still TBC unless someone protests. So, how does everyone like my pairings so far? Any other requests? Anything you want to see in my story as far as plot points go? I need ideas otherwise my evil writer's block will return in all it's evil glory!
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