darkest before dawn [open]

[zoku]

when you feel your soul drop to the floor
like a hole, like an open, bleeding sore
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
then you'll have bled like i've bled
and you'll have wept as i've wept

It was quite impossible, even for the thief himself, to decide how Bakura feels about the modern world. Born and self-bred in Egypt millennia’s ago, the king of thieves had the hardest time of the others like him adjusting to the time change. Unlike those before him, he hadn't had a host to see the world from, to learn words and names from. How exactly he came into being is questionable but it's a subject the Spirit of the Ring not the REAL Bakura, mind you does his best to avoid. Regardless, Touzoku-oh was thrust into this era without a say. It's not all bad, really. What's bad about getting a second life? He likes the food and "vidyo" games when he can figure out how to hold the controller. He likes music and movies and mattresses and Ryou because it's like looking into the funniest mirror in the world.

But there are things like house "a-larums" and guns and sur-vei-lunce-cameras and prisons are fortresses rather than shatty cells and, Ra, even things that are the same were different. Horses have no value, food is in overabundance, and water runs from everything. Granted, Bakura doesn't have to steal anymore. He'd mastered it to survive and the excess was to prove that he was the best, that he was Touzoku-oh. Now, according to Ryou, his light's father can support him, meaning he has money to eat and clothe himself beyond anything he had before. Even still, old habits die hard, and Bakura finds even when he hadn't intend to, his fingers are playing along a trinket he's unconsciously tucking into his pocket.

He still gets "carsick" but his stomach has adjusted so he can eat a small meal without puking it up despite his desire to eat everything in sight. He can't spell worth a shit but he can speak well enough and has enough concept of this new culture to pass as a normal boy. Except for, times like this, when technology beats him.

Bakura's teeth gritted, eyes dark as he shook the game in front of him. No matter how many times he flipped the switch on the side the GameBoy refused to turn on. A string of curses slipped from his mouth, each snarled vehemently at the portable device. The thing had more problems than he realized. Not only were the batteries dead, he was missing a game to set in the back. Even if it turned on, he'd be enraged to find he could stare at the colored logo for years and nothing would happen. Furious, Bakura threw the GameBoy across the lawn, leaning huffily back against the tree he was sitting against. He didn't bother to watch where it landed. If it didn't work, he sure as hell didn't want it.

[lunarflowerangel]

Nayru had just finished giving herself a tour of the woods when she had noticed the silver haired man throw his gameboy to the ground. A frown creased her features, seeing that he was upset. Unsure of herself, she walked towards the boy and picked up the game system, gazing at it for a while. "Hmm...." she mumbled to herself, wondering what the problem was. Flipping it on, it flashed for a moment, then went black. Blinking once more, she flipped it, taking the battery out then putting it back in again. She flipped it on, yet did the same as before. She nodded. "That's your problem," she said, smiling at him. "The battery just died. A replaceable would do the trick."

[zoku]

when you feel your soul drop to the floor
like a hole, like an open, bleeding sore
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
then you'll have bled like i've bled
and you'll have wept as i've wept

Bakura was debating what to do. Now that his GameBoy wasn’t working and he’d planned to spend all day doing that. Pokémon didn’t catch themselves, you know. Further irritated than before, the thief started to dig in his pockets, discouraged to find that in the absolutely confusing blur of a day he didn’t have much more things to his name than when it had started. He’d have to remedy that tomorrow, if not tonight. But worse, he still had nothing to do. He was almost tempted to get up and beat the GameBoy into working when he noticed the figure that was picking it up. Instantly, Bakura’s entire body stilled, only his eyes breaking the mold. He watched her turn it, playing with it, touching his GameBoy – then she was turning to face him, telling him exactly why it was being half-retarded.

The thing she deemed dead was the kind of familiar that nagged, but Bakura couldn’t be expected to remember everything because there were so many stupid things to remember. He hated that too, having to know so many things and the notion that he could forget everything he had known. None of it mattered here. Bakura hated that most. “The what?” His words were slightly overemphasized and tinted with accent. It was obviously not his native language. Touzoku-oh continued to stare at her. If she’d thought his question was a joke, the look on his face was sure to rectify it. He looked completely oblivious, his face slightly bare except for the slight downturn of his lip at someone else touching his things. Ryou’s mantra of “things are different now” barely kept him from demanding she give it back right. This. Second. Before he took it back himself. She doubted neither she nor Ryou would approve of that.

Instead, he forced himself to try and relax. As long as she faced him, it would be okay. Besides, he was Touzoku-oh, the King of Thieves. She couldn’t outwit him if she planned to. He bent one leg at the knee, bringing it up to his chest, while the other remained on the ground, foot pulling toward him. He rested his arm on his knee, looking up at her from under spiky, snow-colored bangs. Bakura didn’t say anything more, waiting for her answer. Regardless of how stupid it probably was to her, Bakura wanted to know and she was going to tell him.