King of Bad Puns (dragonspire) wrote in mindlessmemoirs,
King of Bad Puns
dragonspire
mindlessmemoirs

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chat sucks balls

The king of thieves adorned himself with a thick shawl to hide his stark-white hair. It was a characteristic he both hated and loved. It was something wild, untamed, something unique. Something to be different about. But that was just it. It was different, and very easy to identify. He looked to his partner in crime, "Malik, come on, you've got to hurry up if you want to keep this appointment," he said to his blonde haired companion.

Sighing with a note of frustration, the Egyptian pulled the faded maroon cloth over his face and lowered his head, hiding dark ringed eyes and blonde hair. In his hand was clutched a large bag with an assortment of things inside. He hefted it up on his shoulders and with one look around him, silently stepped to his companion. They were both different, him and Bakura, the same strange eyes and wild hair. However they acted nothing alike. Bakura was outgoing, flamboyant in his own way while Malik was quieter, a little less straightforward. Together, they worked as a good team.

Atemu sat upon his throne, as always, trying to conceil the fact that he was bored out of his skull. It was the same routine everyday: wake up, be pampered, and deal with "life threatening situations" that only the pharaoh himself could deal with. Right. Sighing softly, he nodded to his advisors, permitting them to allow the merchants that were paying the palace a visit to enter. Perhaps he would actually be able to find something simple for himself among their wares... it would be a nice change.

Bakura glared at Malik for a brief moment, hoisting up his own bag and making his way into town. He moved with this natural grace, a smoothness that only a thief could have. The wrap covered his head and half of his face, wary about the scars on his cheek. His lilac eyes gazed around at the people, kicking at a goose that happened to be in his path. The palace wasn't too much further, and they had to make their time. Smirking, Bakura was granted passage by the guards and he moved past them, sending a secretive wink to Malik.

The blonde caught the wink and returned it with a small smirk, eyes shining before he quickly lowered his head again. He was a servant, so he had better act like one, the sway in his hips ceasing as he dragged his feet, back hunched and rags allowing only the floor to witness the excitement on his face. If there was any misconception about him and Bakura working on the same level, it would be suspicious. He knew the routine, it was well practiced, now he had only to follow Bakura's orders and if the cards played out well, he would be theirs.

They were ushered in almost immediately, admonished for making the pharaoh wait. Advisors spoke for the pharaoh of course; Atemu was not allowed to grace mortals with the sound of his voice in court. It irritated him to no end, but there was nothing that he could do about it from his position. They were told to desplay their wares before the pharaoh as soon as they approached the throne.

Bakura pulled the bag from off his shoulders, opening it and revealing several strange looking trinkets. Some seemed to be rudimentary machina, some more like complicated boxes to keep jewelry in. He looked up in the accepted manner and spoke to the pharaoh, "Your highness, these are but some of my wares," he said, smiling once again, "The other bag," he said, gesturing towards the one his servant carried, "Will only be shown under special circumstances," he explained. Looking up to the crimson eyed king, Bakura licked his lips from behind the scarf, "Anything of interest..?" he asked.
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With a look of deep intensity, Malik waited, pulling the bag around in front and bowing deeply. He was just about as mysterious as the contents in the bag. He really wanted to speak, but he knew that Bakura would have his head for it later if his words went wrong. Bakura was a good manipulator, if the plain, but intruiging items didn't catch the pharaoh's eye, he wasn't sure what else would.
Atemu definately looked intregued. He eyed the wares Bakura brought forth, before confiding in an advisor next to him.

"Your wares interest the pharaoh," he said, straightening after his breif conference with the smaller man. "What else do you have to sell, and what are the special circumstances surrounding this other bag of yours."
Bakura smiled mysteriously, giving the man a brief look before turning his attention back on the pharaoh, "The special circumstances... your majesty... is that only the prospective owner may see them, and once seen, they must be bought," he said, tapping his foot once, a signal to Malik to shake the bag after a moment. The sound that the bag would make would certainly incite the pharaoh's curiousity, or so Bakura thought.
Smiling, the blonde gladly shook the bag, the contents inside letting out something rather strange for Khemet's time. It was the soft tinkling of music, very soft and almost eerie. It sounded as if it could have been just bells, but there were notes there, not just anything ordinary. Surely, whatever was inside was conducted by some magic, and it took all Malik had not to fall under its spell. Gritting his teeth he set the bag carefully down and let his arms fall to his sides. The smile on his face widened as he could clearly picture the pharaoh's expression in his mind. 'Got him...' he thought, tongue licking sun chapped lips in anticipation.
The look on Atemu's face clearly said it; that sound had caught his attention fully. His advisors weren't so easily swayed, however. One opened his mouth to protest against their audacity, but a sharp look from the pharaoh shut him up quickly.

Atemu leaned forward, reguarding the merchant and his slave with interest.

"You're rather bold for a simple merchant..." he murmured, the fact that he was speaking made several of the advisors flinch. "Name your terms, sir, for the purchase of this... object."
Bakura smiled broadly, the look of a salesman who got his catch on the line, "Why, my king, the terms are but simple requests," he said, bowing low, "Merely, that the items, I and my good servant here, as well as you, your majesty, meet over the inspection and price debate... in private," he finished, flourishing his red cloak to good affect. The thief stood upright and gave an imploring look the the pharaoh, "Your word, as king, that we remain alone for the duration of the bargaining," he added, speaking in a lower tone than before.
Looking to Malik, Bakura gave a nudge of his head, "Of course, you don't have to see the items at all..." he trailed off.
Malik made as if to start to leave, the packs contents jingling again. Just barely, his head rose up and his gaze swooped across the pharaoh, amathyst orbs intense and dark. They were also dead set on seeming to appear as a rare odity. What him and Bakura had to offer was simple and unlike what any of the other merchants would bring in...which was exactly the tool they used. Boys that age were wild, curious about life and all it's little things, pharaoh or not. Malik licked his lips again, a shudder running through him. Curiousity was about to get the young ruler into a lot of trouble.
Curiousity wasn't exactly what was on the pharaoh's face. Oh, he was wondering what they had in the bag, to be sure, but the slight smile on his face suggested he knew something they were hoping he wouldn't find out...

The advisors were roaring in protest, demanding their heads, but Atemu stood up, a glare from him shutting them up quickly.

Before long, Bakura and Malik were being escorted to one of the pharaoh's private chambers and asked to wait inside. Atemu appeared not all that long after, closing and locking the door behind him, leaving just the three of them in the room. The look on his face was a bit cocky, though amused.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" he asked. "For whatever reason do you wish to kidnap me for. Money? To prove you can?"
Tilting his head to the side, Bakura looked curiously upon the pharaoh, "Kidnap you? My king, we don't wish to kidnap you," he said sweetly. He gestured to Malik and had his servant lay out the bag on the floor, the contents still hidden. He looked to Atemu, giving a disarming smile, "Do you still wish to see what is in the bag?" he asked, carefully standing at the appropriate distance.
Wincing, Malik set the bag out on the floor and feined ignorance. He was dead meat. Wether or not this was his fault, he was going to be on the other end of a very ticked off Bakura. Now he had more then just reasons of personal gain to hope this plan worked out as planned. Sweaty hands tore at the knot of rope on the bag and untied it, hovering over the contents as he waited for the comand. He was at just the right angle too, to throw what was inside at Bakura when he needed.
Atemu smiled patiently. "I'd like to think that I'm not stupid, gentlemen," he replied. "Or, perhaps in a sense I am, as by all rights I should have had you arrested, and more than likely would have if you two did not amuse me so much."

He waved to the bag. "And what is that? Something to make me fall asleep? Put me in a trance?" He nodded to it, actually inviting to be kidnapped. "Show me."
"No, my pharaoh, it's something to seal your soul into an item," Bakura said, summoning the Sennen Ring from inside the bag, the golden pendant appearing around his, tinkling and making that same musical noise as from before. A wicked grin formed on the thief king's lips as he signalled Malik to open the bag, showing the contents inside. The head of the former priest Mahaadou rolled out, dark eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. Placing his foot upon the severed head, Bakura stared at Atemu, lilac eyes intense and concentrated on the pharaoh's, a challenging glare.
With another swift movement Malik flung his hood aside and raised his head, a small smirk on his lips, though there might have been a touch of genuine fear there. Bakura was crazy, had always been, but this was almost pushing it for him...almost. "Good day pharaoh," he said softly, eyes meeting the younger boys confidently. Now that there was no cover needed really, he was allowed more freedom in his actions. After all, Bakura had just revealed himself as well.
Atemu jumped back mostly out of reflex when his childhood friend's head rolled out of the bag. He stared down at it before Bakura's foot settled over it, returning his gaze to the theif's face. He didn't find them so amusing anymore; these were dangerous people he was dealing with...

"And what do you plan to do with me?" he asked softly.
Bakura chuckled, "Well, to be completely honest, Pharaoh, we're planning on taking you hostage, back to our own country and raping you until you can no longer walk," he said, a cheerful tone perfectly making the sadistic smile on his lips. He rolled the head under his foot, the face being squashed into the hard stone floor.

The thief king himself didn't remove his scarf, no, he was far too intelligent to do that. He knew that the guards would note his features, if not Atemu himself, and so he decided to keep it a secret until they reached his home, "Well, you can either come with us... Atemu," Bakura said, relishing the name, "Or we can slowly kill off the rest of your priests..." he said, tone completely against the threatening nature of the statement.
A hand clutched at the item beneath the robes Malik wore. It was smooth and slender in his hand, at the ready should he use need to use it. He knew he was being a little stupid by exposing his identity, but he was a servent and nothing more. His identity was not as important as Bakura's. Still, it was a reckless move on his part. And, why had he not been informed of what they were to do with the pharaoh? All the blonde had been told was that they were going to kidnap him. Bright eyes narrowed as the man clenched his fist tighter, only a little annoyed. Quite honestly it was a relief, now he wouldn't be the sex toy. It was berating and Atemu would soon be able to see just how it felt to have a cock up your ass and calloused hands on the most tender parts of your skin. Malik giggled to himself.
To say that Atemu was afraid would have been an understatement. He couldn't really get a good look at this person because of the scarf, but it was obvious he could hold through his threat of killing all his priests. The pharaoh swallowed, the thought of just being turned into a pleasure slave for some person making his stomach churn.

And what was worse? He knew he wouldn't get help. Oh, the priests would probably make an effort to find him... those that held some loyalty to him anyway. There were a few though that were just waiting for him to make a mistake, or disappear somehow... That thought made his stomach twist worse.

"Very well," he said softly. "How do you propose we leave?"
Bakura pondered this for a moment before, "You could say you really were interested in my wares, and I told you I had more at my home, and you said you would accompany me..." he mused aloud, "Unless you have something better," he said, absently toying with the cloth of his cloak.

He shifted his gaze to Malik, "Or we could sneak out," he said, for behind the blonde was a window that led out to a balcony. Turning his intense lilac gaze back upon the pharaoh, he licked his lips once again; hungry and eager to taste the kingly flesh.