Marshipping (Rishid x Pegasus)
His appointment was late. Pegasus J. Crawford didn't particularly mind, though – it told him quite a bit about the person he was about to meet.
The atmosphere was relaxing for the American CEO. A low-light restaurant with the soft clink of silverware against plates, a low murmur of quiet conversation, every table set with a perfect white tablecloth and meticulously placed dishes and silverware. Pegasus sipped at his wine, glancing around the restaurant from his place in the corner – he had requested the area specifically. He liked to know that there was only one direction from which he could be approached.
The bangs that covered his Millennium Eye shifted ever so slightly as he set his glass down. The ancient artifact could see right through the curtain of hair, and it noticed his guest right away.
The waiter who led him to the table looked out-of-sorts. His eyes kept flicking over his shoulder at the man and then quickly away. Pegasus could understand why as the man approached. He was a tall man, his head shaved but for a single ponytail of black hair in the back. He wore a simple black suit, professional and unreadable. The hieroglyphics across one side of his face were most intriguing, however. Pegasus' Millennium Eye focused on that, translating the words.
Mm, how interesting. An ancient Tombkeeper prayer of protection. And it appears to be carved directly into the skin; scar tissue rather than ink.
"Mr. Crawford? Mr. Ishtar," the waiter said, gesturing a little too enthusiastically at the seat. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. "Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Ishtar?"
"Water, please," the man said, taking his seat.
The man spoke perfect English, albeit in a somewhat low tone that Pegasus had to strain to hear. It had a sort of cadence to it that reminded Pegasus of white noise machines – somewhat unnoticeable, and yet comforting.
"I am sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Crawford," the man said.
Pegasus smiled slowly and waved a hand.
"Oh, no need for those kind of pleasantries, Mr. Ishtar. I know quite well what you're up to."
"I do not take your meaning."
Not a hint of emotion flickered in that man's deep set eyes. Pegasus continued to smile.
"You set up a meeting with me and then did not arrive on time. A typical psychological ploy to make yourself appear in control; that I am somehow being forced to wait on your wishes."
"You seem confident in your assumption."
"Of course I am. I know who you are, who you work for, and what this meeting is about."
The man Ishtar continued to watch him passively, but Pegasus could see the scattered hints of thoughts in the man's mind that confirmed Pegasus' deduction.
"I understand these tricks, Mr. Ishtar. I've used most of them. And I hope you understand that I am a very successful CEO, and thus, I know how to stay a few steps ahead."
Right on cue, a rather timid looking waitress clicked over to the table with a tray.
"Mr. Crawford? You ordered the chicken and bruschetta with Gorgonzola?"
"Ah, yes, thank you very much, young lady," Pegasus said, sending her his most charming smile.
The girl's face went red instantly as she placed the plate in front of him. She even gave him a small, shy smile before scurrying away. Pegasus turned his smile to the man across the table, who still did not react.
"You were so long in getting here, I took the liberty of ordering," Pegasus said. "I hope you don't mind if I eat."
Pegasus' smile widened as he caught a glimpse of irritation in the man's mind. He had been beaten in the psychological half already. Pegasus had the upper hand.
Pegasus cut into his meal and took a small bite.
"Ah, that reminds me. I don't think we've formerly introduced ourselves," Pegasus said.
He wiped his fingers on the edge of his napkin and extended a hand across the table.
"Pegasus J. Crawford. CEO of Industrial Illusions."
The man returned the handshake – his grip was startingly strong.
"I am Marik Ishtar."
"Ah," Pegasus said, retracting his hand and returning to his meal. "The elusive leader of the Ghouls. I assumed as much."
The man's lips tightened ever so slightly.
"Oh, don't be so surprised. Of course I know about the Ghouls – you based it around my own game, you know," Pegasus said.
"It is not your game," the man said quietly.
Pegasus smiled.
"Of course it's not," Pegasus said. "And it is. All at the same time. Life is funny that way, isn't it?"
"Mr. Crawford, I did not come here to banter with you."
"Oh, but I did."
Pegasus was certain the man's hands were tightening beneath the table.
"I am here for a single reason –"
"This is the first warning, of course," Pegasus said, interrupting him. "You want the God Cards. You invited me here to show off your organization's strength – don't think I don't know about the Ghouls planted in the restaurant. I have a few friends of my own in the audience."
Again, no visible reaction. But Pegasus was most surprised at the lack of a reaction within the man's thoughts as well – ah. He was shielding himself, now. He should have know that the Ghouls would have trained Shadow Mages that could hide their thoughts.
"I'm sorry to tell you that I no longer have the God Cards," Pegasus said. "And even if I did...well, I would be most unhappy to hand them to someone that isn't even the real Marik Ishtar."
For a moment, Pegasus was able to see the flare of shock in his companion's mind, but then it faded behind a shadowy barrier again.
A silence passed between them for a moment.
"How did you know?" the man who was not Marik Ishtar said.
"I have many sources," Pegasus said, gesturing grandly. "One of which tells me that Marik Ishtar holds the Millennium Rod. You don't have any Millennium Magic."
The man's face remained impassive.
"So the rumors are true. You have the Millennium Eye."
Pegasus only smiled. The man sat quietly for a moment.
"Where are the God Cards?"
"I agreed to this meeting to talk to Marik Ishtar, not his shadow," Pegasus said. "If he really wants to know, tell him that he can come in person, next time."
The man sat for only a moment longer. Pegasus took another bite of his meal, waiting. Then the man stood up.
"Then there is no point in my being here," he said. "Good day, Mr. Crawford...and be forewarned that my master will obtain the God Cards."
He slipped from the table. Pegasus swallowed.
"Oh, and Rishid..." he called softly. "I believe your sister is worried about you."
For a moment, Rishid Ishtar froze, his entire body going stiff. He looked as though he might turn around. Then he shook his head and continued onward, almost running into the young man bringing his glass of water. The young waiter hesitated, watching the man go for the door, still holding the glass and his order pad tucked under one arm.
"He won't be returning," Pegasus called. "There's no need to worry yourself."
The boy's relief washed over his entire stance as he called a quiet thank you to Pegasus, and he returned to the kitchen.
Pegasus went back to his meal. Mm. He loved Gorgonzola.
A/N: it's funny because Pegasus' favorite food is gorgonzola. Okay, maybe it's not funny anyway. Whatever. Next is Marbleshipping (Ryuzaki x Ryo).
