One-on-One RP between Mimiroppu and me! Lurkers are welcome, but we get into slumps pretty often and sometimes don't post for days. D:

☆The Summary☆

Something along the lines of Bakura testing Memory World out on unsuspecting Malik and Ryou. General snark and retarded and gay ensues. Excuse to nitpick about language barriers with Malik/Bakura/YnMalik/Seto being the only people with any business speaking Middle Egyptian, and Ryou knowing the lay of the land because he made the damn diorama. Shenanigans in loincloths. Imminent happy!drunk!Thief King.

☆The Players☆

Megami - Malik, Thief King, Assorted NPCs
Mimiroppu - Ryou, Yami no Bakura, Assorted NPCs

☆The Missing Content☆

This roleplay is being continued from another forum site and was ridiculously long. The previous posts have been collected here and here, because it was so long Livejournal wouldn't let me post it all in one go. If anyone feels compelled to read it, for some ungodly reason, there's 16,000 words available for your nerding pleasure, with warnings posted on the journal about content. <3

The word “food” was the only thing echoing in Ryou’s head for several seconds as it spun around from the sudden movement of standing up, and he felt -- without fully noticing -- Malik touch his arm. It was only when the blonde Egyptian began to recite the same thing almost everyone did after he’d had one of his “spells” did he snap out of the daze that had set in on him. A strange feeling welled up inside of his chest, one that was so brimming with emotions that he physically faltered. The conversation came rushing back to him and he felt a sort of nauseous sensation settle in his stomach.

“I’m alright,” he answered automatically. It only sounded like he meant it (albeit distractedly) because he’d said it so often. And that sentence came out a lot more depressing than honestly it was; he usually was fine, perhaps just frowning from thinking too much or suffering from a headrush because he got up too quickly. Turning to face his friend (however new this friendship was), the light-skinned teenager tried to give a smile, and though it looked tired, it was sincere. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be like that.” He never felt quite right knowing that he could distance himself that much. It was… gross.

He couldn’t keep thinking about that right now, however, because he would just fall into another funk. That was an incredibly rude and selfish thing to do when around someone else, so he would save that for later -- if it was even an issue later.

It was then that he actually acknowledged the burning warmth against his arm, one that wasn’t sunlight or the dry heat of the day, but one that came from a living creature. It was comforting, and Ryou was surprised by how touched he was by the gesture.

“You mentioned food,” he uttered, shifting on his feet and noticing that splinters from the rope were still there. That was going to be annoying to deal with later, but perhaps they would just fall out on their own and there wouldn’t be much around to irritate the skin further. His head was still aflutter because he was no longer lying or sitting in the hot sand, but that was slowly passing. Only his hands were shaking now, and it wasn’t due to anything that could really be helped. Besides, it was hardly noticeable since his fingers had done their knee-jerk reaction and closed around what was helping keep him on his feet. Which was Malik himself.

“I like food,” he added, eyes resting on the other’s bicep and elbow where they were making contact, his mind having been pulled in too many directions to register that, since there was no immediate danger of falling, he could let go.

While his tone sounded genuine enough, Malik was hardly convinced, and he very nearly said so. Yuugi’s friends were terrible liars, for the most part, and while Ryou was the exception to a great deal of the rules the fair-haired Egyptian had come to assign to his Very Normal friends, the rule about lying was not one of them. He lied passably well--to people who weren’t deeply invested in studying everything about his body language and vocal inflection. Truthfully, Ryou was probably a better liar than Malik was, when he wasn’t acting.

But then Ryou was smiling again, and it was as if he’d ripped the wind clean out of the blonde’s sails, taking with it any ammunition he might’ve used against him. Now wasn’t the time for lying to each other--and if Ryou was going to fall apart, he needed to know beforehand so he could prepare an excuse when he inevitably broke character in front of their captors.

It wouldn't look good to worry about Ryou in front of Itafé or his Nubian apprentice. For that matter, it wouldn't look good to be particularly kind or gentle with him, either, and if Ryou hadn’t been holding on as well, Malik might have released his hold on the other boy’s arm. But the contact was comforting--Ryou’s skin was soft, and cooler than his, and it felt nicer than Malik could describe to be able to hold onto something real in this ridiculous game world Bakura had made up.

Ryou spoke, and Malik looked up sharply, staring for a long moment. Food? The silver-haired boy was worried about food?

Malik could feel his lips pulling back into a smile, and his shoulders hitched in such a way that he felt the coarse cotton of his ‘borrowed’ frock rub awkwardly against his midsection. It was never not about food with Bakura Ryou, he realized distantly, and he let out a breathy chuckle before his free arm wound itself around the slimmer boy’s shoulders and pulled him into a brief hug until his snickers subsided.

“I noticed,” the blonde said, voice low, but it was muffled by his friend’s hair. “It’s always food with you, isn’t it?”

At first, Ryou wondered if Malik had gone completely insane from stress when the other started smiling rather widely (and laughing), because surely what he said wasn’t that funny, was it? Besides that, it didn’t look like a normal smile; it seemed more like one that broke through some sort of bad news. And yet, it was like there wasn’t a thing disturbing (disturbed?) or wrong with it, Ryou simply was unsure about how to deal with it, especially when he was suddenly closer to the other. It took him several seconds to realize he was being hugged.

He didn’t actually know what to do. He got an arm hooked around his shoulders or neck sometimes in one of Jyounouchi’s “man hugs”, and of course excited ones were shared after winning an intense duel… but Malik wasn’t expecting anything, was he? Was the pale teen supposed to just stand there and take it, or was he supposed to return it? Ryou decided to chock it all up to the relief of having not been caught lying.

Working on slow reflex, the slighter male’s hands (oh, one had been holding onto the blonde’s bicep just moments ago, hadn’t it? It must have fallen from its place…) lifted, setting themselves against the boy’s side, feeling the rough fabric scratch at his fingers and palms. He noted somewhere in his mind that there was some comfort around the awkwardness, but he wasn’t able to actually take note of that because his broken thoughts (he was having any right now?) were interrupted by speaking that was happening very close to his ear (he noticed this a bit belatedly).

“Is it?” he asked, not paying attention to what he was even saying. He did enjoy eating, and his metabolism came close to rivaling a small mammal’s, but had Malik actually seen enough of him to know that? Suddenly, he felt a bit sad and almost betrayed, wondering if Malik was instead (mistakenly?) thinking about Bakura. The feeling tapered off, though, because he was having trouble recalling a time when he had “woken up” feeling full.