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

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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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