EEEEE! I don't know what I'm doing! Why am I updating? I was going to wait until I had, you know, finished the story. (shrug) I suppose I'm just supremely sick of waiting. WOOT!
Despite my overwhelming, all consuming fears, I'm actually like totally ecstatic. YAY! (pom-poms and confetti)
To start off with some warnings: THIS IS YAOI!! (shounenai, Gayness abounds, guyxguy)If you don't like homosexuality frequenting through your stories then what THE HELL are you doing reading FANFICTION? Seriously. Just watch the show. It's as dull. (I immediately apologize to any non-yoai fanfic writers out there, I'm sure you some of you are quite talented and beautiful)
There will be no Lemons. Sorry. But there will be… stuff. What's that called? Limes?
Tell me if you think this sounds interesting:
Chyaputa 1:
Activation
1. To set in motion; make active or more active.2. To organize or create (a military unit, for example)
3. To treat with aeration and bacteria to aid decomposition.
4. Chemistry: To accelerate a reaction in, as by heat.
5. Physics: To make (a substance) radioactive.
Standing out at the very end of the black stone hall was an intricately carved golden door. It sat gleaming upon a set of glassy black ebony steps like some kind of bizarre shrine, surrounded by cruelly shaped grotesque statues.
The creature's black eyes stared down at the expanse of onyx floor. It did not want to enter that door. The demon would have given every inch of its cold, fear-ridden blood not to approach that awful thing. There was that familiar, ancient power that hooked into the creature's flesh and tugged the demon's body forward, its claws dragging across the flawless floor.
Black leathery wings hung on the creature's shoulders, like a cape that adorned its crimson and black uniform, the tails dragging on the smooth obsidian floor. The bright golden medallion on its chest identified this demon as one of the Four Great Princes of Hell.
Too soon the creature had accomplished it's the journey across the black marble. The golden door opened to welcome the demon as it climbed up the ebony steps. The demon's senses were in chaos, screaming at him from every corner of his brain, leave, run, fly. But it was too late; there was no choice but to obey.
This was His territory.
The creature stepped into the room as the golden door snapped shut behind him.
"Ryou-kun… how lovely it is to see you again. It has been such an awfully long time," a low unearthly voice greeted him sweetly.
Ryou dropped to the floor, black eyes remained firmly on the rich carpet floor as the servant bowed deeply.
"You summoned me, Master," Ryou spoke softly.
"There is no need for you to be ashamed. Lift your eyes," the Master ordered.
The creature hesitated for a fraction of a second, not wanting to look into the face that he feared. But no one disobeyed the Master. So Ryou lifted his head a fraction.
Ryou knew that he knelt before an impossible dark figure. His too keen eyes caught a flash of gold above his field of vision and imagined the Master's dark limbs, ornamented in an assortment of golden bracelets, anklets, arms bands and rings as always.
And there was that familiar supreme force, weighting down upon Ryou's self; his skin singed just by being in the Master's presence. Ryou fought to keep his pale, black-and-white-patched face expressionless. Blanketing his thoughts. Those few who had actually spoken to the Master in His presence knew that He could read minds.
"You stay so far away. Why don't you stand up and come closer?" It was an order; everything was an order. Keeping his gaze always stuck to the floor, Ryou raised himself to his feet and took a few steps forward.
"First, I'd like to congratulate you on your success on the battle fields. Driving back the angel's forces into a full retreat, was it? I expected nothing less from my Great Prince."
"It was all for Your Honor, Master," Ryou answered with another bow.
A harsh scrapping sound. Ryou saw through his mind's eye the Master licking His lips and grinning sadistically, revealing three pairs of white fangs. Ryou repressed the impulse to shudder.
"I know you have just gotten back from your previous mission. It pains Me to tell you that you will have to go away again."
Ryou's wings twitched, trying his best to repress his delight. To be sent away on a mission meant he could not visit the Master for, hopefully, a very long time.
"Where am I being sent?" Ryou asked cautiously.
A sudden throbbing pain had erupted inside his head as the atmosphere changed. The Master's mood had turned.
"You seem eager to leave," He stated, the note under His words suggested a threat. "Do you grow tiresome of my company?"
Ryou's throat tightened. "Never, my Master," he lied hastily and bowed so deeply that his knees almost touched the floor again. "I am only eager to earn glory for Your Country."
The Master chuckled, sending disagreeable ripples through Ryou's body.
"That's why I like you; you lie so fearlessly through your teeth."
Ryou was too terrified to respond, barely able to keep his expressionless face under control.
"This particular mission that I am entrusting you with is a matter of top importance. I will not accept failure under any circumstances."
White flashed across Ryou's mind; the Master was serious. Ryou swallowed.
"I have gotten word of a plot. It seems as though the angels have regrettably gotten their greedy hands on rather large stash of raw, untainted power. I have already located its position in the Human World. You will go down to that mundane plane and find this source of power and return it to Me so that I can use it against My enemies. When you are successful," The sound of rustling, the Master was moving, "It will be a great victory for Me."
Ryou's eyes followed the impression of His dark feet as They paced the room with nothing less than complete control over the space.
"This power source is in the country of Japan, within a ten mile radius of the center of a human town called Domino. You will select only two other demons under your command. The mission will be in complete secrecy. You will have disguises to infiltrate the humans. Doubtlessly there will be angels stationed there, guarding the power source but I am certain you will be more than enough to handle them. You will leave first thing tomorrow."
"Yes, Master," Ryou said and bowed deeply. "I shall not fail you." The servant's flesh was prickling fearfully. He had to get out of that room; the very acidic stench on the air was making him sick. Ryou turned to leave rather hastily.
Then he heard a disapproving clicking sound from behind him as though a hammer were knocking on his skull.
"Now, now, when did I say you could go?" the Master questioned, His voice dangerously low. "And turning your back to me? How disrespectful."
Ryou's blood froze. Already certain of his inevitable doom, the creature spun around and dropped his limbs into a bow, deeper than ever before.
"I beg your unworthy forgiveness, Master," Ryou groveled, face against the black marble floor. "I was only-"
"Spare me," the Master spat. Ryou flinched as though he had been struck. "I have heard quite enough of your lies today. They no longer amuses me."
Ryou did not look up. His skin was crawling, senses writhing with terror.
"Quite the wrong move. I wouldn't expect you to make such mistakes. I thought you had learned by now."
"I am unforgivable, Master-" Ryou began.
"Silence!" the Master hissed angrily. His voice suddenly went harsh, that one word scratching at Ryou's ears. He saw the Master's bare feet rotate to face him. Ryou could feel His deadly stare grazing the back of his head.
"Now… what shall you do to make it up to me?" the Monster mused mildly. "I believe I can think of a few ways…"
Ryou was quite sure he knew what was on the Master's mind.
"Stand up." Ryou did so hastily. The servant could feel the Master examine him meticulously, tracing his patched, marred skin. "I see your transformation is going well, perhaps not as cleanly as one might have expected." A series of conflagrations erupted where the Master traced one of the black patches on Ryou's skin with one of His dark clawed fingers.
"Let me see your eyes."
It was an order. Ryou obeyed. He tilted his head up and had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the flood of terror from seeping into his mind.
The Master's eyes, if one could call those grotesque organs that, were as white as death. It was holy unnatural. Ryou's insides were shrieking in terror because they could remember what had happened the last time he had looked into those eyes, and the time before that, and before that…
"Nonetheless Our training has been effective. Your powers have indeed grown stronger."
Ryou did not move. His limbs went rigid and stiff. He knew what was coming; it was so awful he wanted to die.
"Don't be so hasty," the Master chuckled darkly.
The servant didn't even have time to sense the movement before his Master was behind him, His foul, icy breath washing over the back of Ryou's neck.
"You will probably be gone for such an awfully long while. I will miss our time together…" He whispered, words sugary sweet. The Master's light-less eyes rolled sickly; His dark face grew veined and twisted for a split second with excitement.
Suddenly there was an arm around the servant's middle and another across his chest. Two bodies pressed painfully together, crushing Ryou's delicate black wings. The Master's skin was so cold it burnt. Ryou grew rigid, repulsed by the too-familiar, unwanted contact. His wings flapped uselessly against their restraints.
'Not again, please no… not again…' The thought fought its way out of Ryou's mental barriers, a small weak helpless voice.
"Let's make this one worth our time apart," The Master hissed, forked red tongue darted out of His open mouth and licked the grime off a spot on Ryou's defenseless soft neck.
Immeasurable pain exploded at the side of the servant's neck as all sets of the Master's knife-like fangs and carnivorous teeth tore into Ryou's flesh.
Then the Master began to feed.
The Monster sucked his servant's veins of their precious blood.
The effects were immediate. Ryou went light headed. Electric shots of pain traveled down his neck into his chest and up into his brain. His struggling wings bruised. His mouth was hanging open, fighting air down into his shriveled compressed lungs. The Master's claws broke skin in their eagerness, Ryou's dark blood bubbling up between His lips.
But the Master did not stop. He continued, determined to suck until Ryou went dry. All strength drained away, Ryou's wings went limp, arms numb.
Ryou's skin went completely white, then thinned, wrinkled like paper.
He had never gone on this long before. Ryou's body started shivering convulsively as though it was having a seizer, eyes rolled into the back of his head.
No more… please, no more blood… I need…There it was again. A deep ache throbbed in Ryou's chest through the pain. Only in the last few visits had Ryou felt that unidentifiable feeling rise up inside of him but it had never been as strong as it was right now. The ache grew as the very marrow in his bones went dry.
Finally the master extracted his fangs from his servant's wilting flesh.
Ryou was barely hanging onto life; his mouth was open, bone white fangs snapping at the air convulsively.
I need blood… give me blood…"Shhh, calm down. It's alright," the Master purred. Scrape, scrape, He licked the blood from around His mouth and dragged His servant's limp, dissolving form over to the bed. "I'll give you what you want," the Master cooed, stroking Ryou's thin hair which had turned pure white.
Ryou's eyes had rolled so far back into his head that he had gone blind. The creature's body was as weak and as delicate as ash, as if, at any second, it would collapse into dust. Ryou was going to shrivel up and die.
The Master laid His dying servant down in front of Him on the red and black satin bed sheets. He then took one clawed finger, reached back toward His own neck and cut open the outer skin, letting the dark blood escape and drip down His dark shoulder.
Ryou's body froze, mouth still wide open.
The servant's nostrils flared white.
"That's right, use your nose," the Master hissed playfully. "Find my blood."
The throbbing ache in Ryou exploded. Fangs grew almost three times their normal size as his primitive demon instincts took over. The creature's body jumped and dove for the Master's neck, for that bloody cut. His jaws opened so wide he almost fit the Master's entire neck in his mouth.
All teeth and fangs bit into the Master's dark flesh. Immediately the flow of blood started, the hot sweet metallic wave poured into Ryou's mouth and then down through his parched throat, the liquid so acidic with evil minerals that it scorched Ryou's insides.
The Master moaned and clutched Ryou's body closer to him, whispering words of encouragement in his ear.
And Ryou fed.
...)(-)-(Activation)-(-)(...
Atemu looked up at the glowing orange sky.
Judging by the change in light and the position of their three fiery suns, Ryou had been in there far too long. Ruby eyes narrowed sharply, glaring up at the gold and black glassy palace. Ryou had never taken so long before; what was the Master doing to him?
A palace guard passed close by, four bone gray tusks protuberated out of a slobbering mouth. The guard snorted and pounded its hoofed feet on the barren cracked ground in irritation.
Atemu gave it a cold glare and refused to move.
Suddenly there was a loud creek and a dull slamming sound. Atemu swerved to the palace doors to see a black figure emerge from building. It stumbled drunkenly down the steps and then collapsed upon the ground. Atemu wanted to run forward but the guard held him back. Atemu snarled.
Another one of the guards picked up the fallen figure and carried it over to the gate. Atemu snatched the figure hastily from their slimy hands.
"Ryou," Atemu hissed, shaking him slightly. "Ryou, wake up!" The intoxicated demon's skin was pure black and burning to the touch. His teeth were dyed crimson; blood was dripping out of his mouth and from a large wound at the side of his neck.
"He took so much… it hurt…" Ryou sang sluggishly, voice barely audible, lips and tongue slippery with that crimson liquid.
A sick feeling of pity consumed Atemu's insides. He recognized the symptoms almost at once; Ryou had been forced through the Blood Ceremony again.
"Come on." Atemu clutched his friend closer to him and began to walk along the black road, down into the city. "I'm taking you to the baths."
...)(-)-(Activation)-(-)(...
"And what business does a High Hashmallim like you want with a lowlife like him?" the warden angel asked, glancing at the visitor suspiciously through his blue-green bangs. The name, "Noa" gleamed in sliver letters on his blue badge. His body was young, one of a preteen, but his ancient eyes revealed he was much older, experienced and devoted to his job.
The visitor was younger than Noa looked; he might not have even been 200 years old. The prison warden would have been skeptical of the youngling's rank if the visitor hadn't been supporting an enormous pair of pure white wings, twice the size of his own body.
The visitor, with spiky red and black hair and lightening blonde bangs, placed a scroll down upon the table. The silver and gold seal stamped on the seal of the scroll was known by all members of the State of Heaven.
"Orders from the Council of Seraphim and Cherubim," the visitor said simply.
The warden whistled, impressed. "That's high up," Noa commented, picking up the scroll and breaking the seal. His blue eyes darted back and forth as he read the order. "That demon-fraternizer ruffle too many feathers?" he asked with a mischievous chuckle.
The visitor's childish face frowned, pouted. "That prisoner of yours just so happens to be a Guardian of the Holy Army and a veteran from the Ancient Wars. He deserves respect," the High Hashmallim told the prison warden sternly.
The warden gave the visitor a doubtful stare. "War vet? That Guardian doesn't have enough magic to levitate a feather and throw it at me," the warden said, smirking. "And if he's such a great patriot of the State of Heaven then how come he was dealing with the Dirty Market trading illegal substances? You sure you have the right guy?" the warden questioned suspiciously.
"We're sure," said the High Hashmallim shortly.
The warden rolled back up the scroll. "Well, at least he's your problem then, not mine. You guys moving him to another prison?" Noa asked, handing the order back to the visitor.
The High Hashmallim gave the prison supervisor a smile, tucking the scroll into his white soldier's uniform, trimmed with bright gold. "Um, something a little different actually," he answered vaguely. "Can I see him now?"
The prison warden sighed and hopped off his stool, his light teal-gray wings waned in comparison with the High Hashmallim's brilliant ones.
"Sure, but I'll warn you, he isn't the most cooperative of sorts," Noa advised coolly, picking up his silver keys and twirling them on his finger.
The High Hashmallim actually let out a small laugh, his voice chiming pleasantly like bells. "I know," the visitor answered with another smile, purple eyes twinkling.
The warden shrugged, walked over to the white stone door at the back of the room and inserted one of the tiny silver keys into the silver lock.
The stone door slid soundlessly out of the way to reveal a long white corridor, rows of cell doors along either wall. Prison guards in blue and white uniforms lifted their caps in respect as the High Hashmallim, following the prison warden, glided passed.
The warden finally stopped at a cell door labeled "612" and unlocked it. Noa held the door open for the visitor.
"He's all yours, I trust you won't need any help dealing with him," Noa drawled.
"No, thank you," the visitor dismissed politely and stepped inside. The prison warden shut the cell door behind him.
The prisoner was lying against the back wall, cold gray iron shackles on his arms, feet, and the joint where the wings met his back. Each feather on the prisoner's wings resembled a delicate pure gold leaf. There was a cloud of wild white hair around his head and his skin was the color of warm bronze. He wore a dark blood-red robe, an act of rebellion; all soldiers of Heaven's Holy Army were ordered to wear only white.
"Can't take a dammed nap without being bothered," the white-haired angel prisoner snapped irritably. His deep violet eyes were dark and clouded, his age and everything else about him unreadable, hidden in their depths.
The High Hashmallim grinned sheepishly. "It's nice to see you too, Bakura-kun," he greeted cheerfully.
The prisoner slouched on the floor scoffed. "What do you want, Yugi?" Bakura questioned harshly, not bothering to compose himself in front of this important official.
"Is that all you can say to an old friend?" Yugi asked, childishly crossing his arms and pouting in disappointment. "I come all this way to see you and you can't even manage a simple 'hello'."
The prisoner snorted, his white bangs fluttering with his action. "If you were here as a friend you wouldn't have bothered dressing in that ridiculous uniform." The prisoner shifted positions so he could see the High Guardian better, iron chains clinking. "Who sent you? A group who perhaps spend their days with their asses on a high glowing pedestal?"
Yugi sat down on the floor, white feathers spread out all around him. "Can't get anything past you, can I?"
The Guardian angel's face turned away. "I heard what happened. At the front."
Yugi's cheerful expression morphed into something painful. "I thought you would." He made a half-hearted grimace. "Pretty stupid of me, huh?"
"Sparing the rest of your troops from the slaughter was the only sane thing."
Yugi gulped, eyes squeezed shut as though concentrating on putting that memory behind a mental iron wall. Then he reached into his robes, pulled out the scroll, setting it on the floor a foot from where Bakura lay sprawled out on the white stone floor.
"It's orders from the Council of Seraphim and Cherubim," Yugi explained, seriously.
Bakura scowled deeply but didn't take the paper. "And? What do those bastards want?" he spat hatefully, dark violet eyes glaring at the scroll and flashing in annoyance. "I'm not a dammed lap dog."
"You can't refuse an order from the Council, Bakura-kun," Yugi reminded him.
Bakura ignored this fact. "And what did you get promoted to so recently? Power? Virtue?"
"High Hashmallim," Yugi corrected, embarrassedly.
"Then excuse me for speaking without permission, your most Excellent Brightness. Does the Council always send such grand delivery boys to pull lonely three thousand year old Guardians out of retirement?"
"I wanted to bring you the news," Yugi said sincerely.
Bakura's golden feathered wings, nowhere near as large as Yugi's, ruffled irritably. They were scrunched, what looked like, painfully against the back wall.
"You and I have been summoned to the Council. They ordered me to bring you there as soon as possible."
"Why me?" Bakura questioned curtly.
Yugi shrugged. "I have no idea."
Bakura scowled and there was a long pause as the rebellious angel's violet eyes glaring hatefully at the parchment. "I'm not going."
Yugi frowned. He had thought this might be a problem. "Bakura-kun… I read your file. What did you get caught for? Selling angel tears on the Dirty Market? That's not even respectable in a prison."
Bakura scowled. "Just proves that it's a ridiculous law."
"You know why it's illegal to sell angel tears to the human world. And you got caught three times stealing from stores? So you're a petty thief now?"
"Your point?" Bakura mumbled darkly.
"How low have you sunk in these past years? You could have lived a better life in the Council's House if you had agreed to work for them," Yugi reminded him.
"I'll damn myself before I step one foot into that god-forsaken building," Bakura snarled.
"See, there you go again," said Yugi. "Letting your dammed pride get in the way!"
"Don't curse," Bakura interrupted sharply.
"I can curse if I want to," said Yugi, sticking his chin out defiantly.
"You'll lose your purity. Soon your wings will be as filthy and as powerless as mine," Bakura taunted, glowering mischievously at the High Hashmallim.
"Then at least you'll have some company," Yugi teased.
Bakura snorted.
Yugi continued in a softer tone, "We used to have good times together, didn't we? Back at the Academy, when you were a trainer and I was just a naïve youngling," said Yugi smiling.
"You still are," Bakura growled.
The High Hashmallim's face softened. "You worked for the Council then."
Bakura's expression darkened. "That was a long time ago."
"Not so long," Yugi insisted, looking down at his fair-skinned hands. "I know how you feel about the Council…"
"You don't know anything," Bakura spat, voice suddenly harsh again.
There was a long pause. Yugi looked hurt.
"Bakura-kun," said Yugi kindly, putting his creamy hand on his friend's angrily clenched fist. Bakura didn't look at him. "Who cares what the order is. You're being given a second chance, a time to prove yourself, an opportunity to escape from this endless cycle of stealing and scrapping. You could have a brand new life after this. Isn't that worth anything? Don't you care about yourself anymore?"
Silence filled the cell. Bakura's eyes were closed tightly, jaw rigid, as though he were holding himself back.
"The Council," Bakura hissed, eyes slowly opening, "Can not be trusted."
"Bakura-kun," Yugi protested, purple eyes wide and pleading. "Don't do this." There was more silence. "You know I trust you above all else. If the Council does anything I swear I'll be by your side, you can trust me."
Bakura snorted. "You would be heading down the same path as I am."
"Then at least, this time, you won't be so lonely," said Yugi, this time seriously.
Bakura glanced at Yugi's face and saw the light shining in his eyes. He knew his friend only wanted what was best for him.
"Fine, I'll go," Bakura spat reluctantly. "But that doesn't mean I'll do what they say."
Yugi's face broke out into a broad grin. "Yay!" The Hashmallim jumped forward and hugged Bakura around the middle.
"Yugi! W-would you get off!" Bakura cried angrily and slightly flustered. "Freaking control yourself, will you?"
Yugi let go, still grinning. "Well, come on! Let's go!" he cried, standing up and pulling Bakura to his feet.
"Now?" Bakura questioned tiredly.
"Yes now!" Yugi said, breaking off Bakura's iron chains as though they were nothing but paper. Bakura groaned.
"I'll never understand how you do that," Bakura growled as he allowed himself to be dragged out of the cell and down the white prison hall.
...)(-)-(Activation)-(-)(...
It was late by the time the Great Prince awakened from his slumber. Atemu had nearly dozed off waiting for his friend and was awakened out of his potential sleep by a low moan and the sluggish stir of the thick tar as Ryou shifted out of restfulness.
"How long have I been out?" Ryou asked, voice low and rough from a scratchy throat.
"Maybe three hours," Atemu estimated.
While unconscious, Ryou's skin and hair had gone from their dangerous pure black coloring back down to their normal white and patchy state. The Master's toxins had settled into his system again.
After hastily departing from the glassy palace, Atemu had carried Ryou's limp body through the demon city to the famous tar bathhouse. The tar had many healing and soothing abilities so it became the ideal place for Ryou to recover after his sessions with the Master. As usual, Atemu had acquired a private room with its extra large tub of bubbling black goo so that Ryou could recover in peace, after all, being a Great Prince, Ryou had a reputation to uphold.
The tar had already worked its magic on Atemu's aching muscles, unknotting them one by one. Even after carrying Ryou such a distance, he felt completely refreshed.
"How are you doing?" Atemu inquired.
"Fine," Ryou lied, lifting his head off the edge of the tub. Atemu glared at his friend. Ryou smiled weakly. "You shouldn't worry so much about me, Atemu. It's unhealthy."
"What's unhealthy is what He does to you," Atemu growled.
Ryou sighed. "You don't say no to the Master," he recited dully, looking up at the ceiling. Atemu could no longer count the number of times Ryou had said phrase.
Atemu glowered at the walls. "You shouldn't have to go through this."
"Don't talk that way. You don't want to be over heard," Ryou said softly, closing his eyes and letting himself relax into the black putrid smelling tar. "They'll imprison you for treason."
Atemu brooded silently, mouth tight with frustration.
"Atemu," Ryou spoke, smiling sadly. "Thanks. You really don't have to take care of me."
"Who else will?" Atemu asked grimly. "And what else is an ancient Soldier useful for?"
"For your talent at making elixirs? Or perhaps… your vast knowledge of the human world?" Ryou suggested a strange note in his voice.
Atemu frowned. "I barely make enough money mixing potions to survive as it is. And I doubt my human world knowledge will ever be useful again."
"It might," Ryou commented vaguely.
Atemu gave his friend a questioning stare. "What are you talking about?" he asked skeptically.
Ryou smiled again. "I know you're tired and have already done so much for me today, but could you do me one last favor?"
Atemu nodded, still thoroughly confused.
"In the main bathing room, in the upper left corner there should be a demon named Jounouchi in a bath by himself. Would you invite him to join us? Oh and he's a Count so be nice to him."
Atemu looked even more suspicious.
But Ryou gave his old friend an odd uncomforting pat on the shoulder "I'll explain everything when you get back, trust me."
"Sure." Atemu extracted himself from the tar, shaking most of the sludge off his body and his blood-red wings.
He exited the private room and found his way into the main bathing hall. At least a hundred baths were set up there in the large dirt stone hall, all containing various numbers of relaxing demons. Atemu made his way quickly through the black fumes, dodging suspicious looks as he passed; most in his social level would never ever see the inside of an expensive place like this.
He arrived at the upper left corner of the hall. There was a very small, shallow looking tub, probably the cheapest of the lot, and amongst the black mire was a head with golden yellow hair. It looked as though the demon was going through a great deal of trouble to submerge his entire body under the surface. Atemu walked up to the tub. The sole occupant looked up as he approached, brown eyes threatening.
"Are you Jounouchi-san?" asked Atemu politely.
"Who the hell wants to know?" the demon in the tub questioned, voice threatening in a don't-mess-with-me attitude.
"Ryou-sama requests your presence," Atemu stated formally. This demon, while above Atemu in status, should at least treat Ryou with proper respect.
The golden-haired demon's eyes widened in surprise. "Ryou-sama?" he asked, words becoming less hostile.
Atemu nodded. "He's in a private room, I'll show it to you."
The demon named Jounouchi hesitated. "Alright," he agreed and stood up.
Unconsciously, Atemu's eyes widened in horror. The black mud slid off Jounouchi's body to reveal, pure white skin and white leathery wings.
His body itself was well built; it looked like he was a talented fighter. But Atemu was transfixed by the white wings on this demon's back, as skinny and as dry looking as bone, like the fingers of a dead tree that had been left to bake in the hot sun. The thin web of leathery pale skin that stretched between the bones of the wings was sickeningly transparent.
Atemu had heard stories about demons like this but he never actually met one before. He was so entranced at Jounouchi's repulsive appearance that he hadn't even realized that he was gawking until the other spoke.
"Are you done yet?" Jounouchi snapped sharply, glaring at the lower class demon.
Atemu composed him, hastily. "You're… Bleached?" he stated obviously, finding his voice again.
"Oh really?" Jounouchi questioned sarcastically looking down at himself in mock surprise. "Wow, I completely hadn't noticed." He gave Atemu a cold look.
Atemu dropped his eyes to the floor. "Forgive me, I-" he apologized roughly.
"Don't," Jounouchi snapped, climbing fully out of the tub and shaking off the black slug from between his clawed toes. "Just don't, ok? I get it enough as it is."
Atemu nodded obediently, he could sympathize with this Count. "I'll show you to the private room."
The two of them walked across the hall again, attracting even more attention. Atemu's sharp ears caught whispers as they passed. Another pang of pity was caught in his gut; Jounouchi probably had to deal with this everywhere he went. Even though he had the status, he was never respected. Finally they reached the other side and Atemu lead him inside Ryou's room.
Ryou did not seem at all surprised to see the Count's condition. "Jounouchi-kun, how are things?"
"Ah, good," Jounouchi muttered, his eyes widened staring at the large and deep tub. "Shit, sweet tub! No way in hell could I ever afford this!" Jounouchi exclaimed admiringly. His brown eyes suddenly jumped toward Atemu, who was getting back into the bath. "Excuse me but is he… allowed to be here?"
"And why wouldn't I be?" Atemu questioned stiffly. Jounouchi opened his mouth but hesitated.
"Atemu-kun is my best friend, Jounouchi-kun," Ryou explained kindly. "He is not my servant." It was Atemu's turn to give Jounouchi a cold look now.
"Oh, ah, sorry," Jounouchi gulped nervously. "I just thought… Your wings make you look like…"
"A slave, I know," Atemu sighed. "I suppose we are even now, Jounouchi-kun?"
The golden haired demon flashed a sheepish grin.
"Come, Jounouchi, enjoy this bath with us." Ryou gestured him to come forward.
Jounouchi nodded hastily and scrambled into the tub. He seemed quite pleased as he stretched out comfortably beneath the surface.
"It is good that you two are getting along," Ryou began, black eyes steady. "Because you will be spending a lot of time together."
Atemu and Jounouchi both turned to Ryou, confused.
"What do you mean, Ryou-sama?" Jounouchi asked.
"Please, lose the formality," Ryou requested mildly. "And if you would be so kind as to seal the room from prying ears, Jounouchi-kun."
Jounouchi nodded awkwardly, raised his hand and snapped. White flames sprouted in every corner and every crack in the walls.
"We won't be overheard now," Jounouchi promised.
"Good. I received top secret orders from the Master today," Ryou explained.
Jounouchi's golden eyes widened in admiration. There were very few people allowed to even see the Master. He, Jounouchi, who had been in the army's service for the better part of a thousand years, had never even seen Him in person.
"I have been ordered to go on a mission to the human world and I must take two others with me." The room went oddly quiet.
Atemu looked suddenly very uncomfortable.
"Who will be your two companions?" the ancient Soldier asked casually.
"I was going to choose Jounouchi-kun and you, Atemu-kun," Ryou answered. "I thought that was obvious."
Atemu again hesitated. "Forgive me but I don't believe I am a wise choice."
Ryou looked pleasantly confused. "Why not?"
"For the blatant obvious, I am a mere Soldier. I would be of no use," Atemu explained. "I have no power, no fighting ability to speak of anymore."
"But we will need a doctor for injures, you know the human world better than any other demon I know, and you are an excellent strategist. Your mind is your power. This mission is about secrecy." Ryou explained.
"Then why in hell am I here?" Jounouchi questioned. "No offence, I may be a Count but I'm only good in battle."
"Because we will meet angels down there and you have plenty of experience fighting with angels, don't you?"
"Hell's yeah," Jounouchi answered, suddenly becoming much more interested. "But what exactly is our mission?"
"We will locate and find a power source the angels have hidden in the human world and then transport it back to the Master," Ryou clarified.
Jounouchi and Atemu exchanged surprised looks as Ryou launched into a longer explanation of the battle plans.
…)(-)-(Activation)-(-)(…
"You're late."
They had arrived in an enormous, most luxuriant hall. There, in the center of the hall, was the grandest silver table set on a high white stone platform. At the table sat ten figures enveloped in such a brilliant white light that they were difficult to lay eyes on directly. The four in the center, the Seraphim, had three pairs of wings. The other six occupants on the sides had only two pairs, the Cherubim.
The set of golden doors shut behind Yugi and Bakura as they approached the table. The entire hall was decorated in bright colors, and large intricate tapestries, most of which depicted angels triumphing over demons and Hellfire, covered most of the walls.
"We instructed you to come immediately," a Seraph with long silver hair and a golden eye spoke from the center of the table.
"Forgive me," Bakura sneered. "It's been so long since I've visited, I got lost. Though I must congratulate you, it's astounding how your tastes haven't changed in three thousand years." The white haired angel squinted accusingly up at the holy group. "You still insist on half blinding your guests with your cheap superiority," he commented dryly.
"Bakura-kun," Yugi hissed, warily.
"As well as you, Bakura, we see you have not changed. Did you enjoy your time in your prison cell?" one of the Cherubs on the end of the table asked coldly.
Bakura dark eyes flashed. "Thoroughly."
"We apologize that you got bored so easily. How naïve of us to think that you would grateful to get your freedom back, perhaps even learn from your old mistakes," another spoke.
The ancient angel looked murderous. "Freedom? This?"
But his words were ignored. Another council member spoke, hidden by the blinding light of the table. "But we speak of things that have already passed. Today we have a new proposal for you Bakura, one that we believe you will be pleased to hear. It will doubtlessly occupy all of your free time."
Bakura's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Surely I am not being sent out? Or is that the only way you can think to silence me?"
"Bakura-kun, at least pretend to show some respect," Yugi whispered.
"Spare me," Bakura answered curtly.
"Arrogance will not serve you nearly as well as compliance, fool," a voice spoke that did not come from the shinning table above.
Yugi and Bakura looked around to see a dark figure standing in the shadows.
Bakura scoffed. "Is that what you tell yourself, freak?"
The dark figure in the shadows stepped into the light.
This angel had cold yet intelligent eyes, brown hair, and a lean but strong figure. He would have been normal, except for his wings were soot black, dull and un-colorful. This angel's very presence seemed to suck the color and liveliness out of the nearby brilliant tapestries. His expression was emotionless yet carried a fiercely superior air, a trait that Bakura abhorred.
"Kaiba-kun," Yugi greeted warmly. "It's nice to see you again."
"Yugi-sama." Kaiba bowed his head respectfully but his face remained as cold and expressionless as ever.
Bakura's mouth twitched with distaste. "What is a Tainted one doing here?"
"Kaiba is one of our greatest, most respected Principalities and strategists. He will be in charge of all battle maneuvers in this mission," a Seraph spoke.
Bakura snarled. "I'll be dammed if I have to follow orders from the likes of him."
"My condition does not affect my ability to serve the State. What's your excuse?" Kaiba asked coolly.
Bakura's violet eyes narrowed. "I've never enjoyed serving. Too many asses to lick."
"Calm down, both of you," Yugi insisted seriously, stepping in between them.
Kaiba turned his attention toward the Council. Bakura did not remove his glare from the back of the Tainted angel's head.
"Because of our current situation on the battle front…" a Cherub began.
Yugi ducked his head, escaping the glare from that bright table.
Bakura turned his suspicious gaze onto the lit stone platform, "You mean your resent defeats."
There was no harsh urge to be silent from Yugi now. He did not have the courage.
"We feel we must take severe action to stop this demon advancement," the center Seraph with the long silver hair continued, observing Bakura warily with his golden eye. The other members of the Council nodded in agreement. "Luckily an opportunity has just come to our attention. Our enemies, the demons below, are hiding a vast reserve of pure energy in the human world. It would be extremely beneficial to our side if we had it in our possession. We have managed to track its location to the country of Japan, somewhere in the town of Domino. We need you three to go down there and retrieve it."
Yugi and Kaiba both bowed deeply in understanding.
Bakura's lip curled as though he was chewing on his tongue in distaste. "And what use would my presence serve?" he questioned challengingly.
"Impudence!" the Cherub on the end spat, outraged. "Know your place! We have treated you with leniency until now but our patience is becoming thin. It is not proper for a mere Guardian to question the powers of our Council!"
But Bakura did not falter, his dark violet eyes only narrowed further.
"There will be demons guarding the location of this source," the main Seraph in the center explained coolly. "We believe your special abilities maybe of use in tracking them down even if they are in human skins."
Bakura's face twisted at the mention of his "special abilities". Kaiba's sharp eyes flickered over to Bakura. Yugi kept his stare on the floor.
"I am a retainer of the State of Heaven," Bakura spat darkly. The golden feathers on his wings twitched. "I have no choice but to follow your desires." There was a dangerously cold tone in his voice. The Council members on either end stirred.
"This mission must be in absolute secrecy. You must not be detected under any circumstances," another Cherub commanded. "Leave as soon as possible." Yugi, Kaiba and Bakura immediately rose to their feet and turned to leave.
"Oh and Bakura," the silver haired angel in the center added with a dry smile. "Remember where your loyalties lie." The white haired Guardian did not pause in his exit out the door.
)(-)-(Activation)-(-)( end
This was inspired by a vampire fic I read once, a super long time ago. Can you tell? You will later, maybe.
Everyone ok with Ryou being a demon now? Poor little tortured guy. What about Bakura being an angel? It's not like I'm going to change them if you're not, but I would like to know how my readers feel.
For those who have read some of my other stories, this is another epic-ish sorta story like Padded Cells, only my writing has improved soooooooo much, I promise you.
REVIEW!!!
Hope you all are having fun! Please give me your honest first impressions? (makes puppy eyes)
NEXT CHAPTER: Speaking of first impressions… Both gangs infiltrate the human world in disguise and both meet some rather interesting characters. YAY! For dramatic irony! (cheers) But is this really going to help their mission?
REVIEW, PLEASE!!