#neferitja

[gameoverbakura]

@nefer-itja​

It wasn’t often when Ryou actually bothered to argue with his tenant. 

Usually when it came to mundane life affairs, the other soul was quiet, leaving the teen to go about his business in relative peace. Alas, the spirit had finally started to become a bit more restless on the eve of the Battle City tournament. Despite Ryou’s protests about having to meet up with his friends early the next morning, he was instead bombarded with stories and imagery for a brand new TRPG campaign. Elated that his spirit was seemingly taking an interest in his favorite game, the teen relented, pulling an all-nighter to finish up the first draft of the plot. 

As expected, the following day was suffering. He’d tried to keep up with Anzu, but kept finding himself falling behind. He’d nearly gotten a second wind when Jounouchi came along, and then--

And then he wasn’t there anymore. It wasn’t exactly a new experience for him, to be in such a weird half-waking state. His partner frequently would take over in times of need; it’d been extremely helpful when poor Yugi had fallen into trouble at the Black Crown game shop, for instance. This time, however, Ryou was actually rather annoyed. Nothing was happening, and he’d been looking forward to watching his friends duel with Kaiba’s new system, and he was still kind of grumpy from lack of sleep on top of all of that.

Why now? 

He tried to reach out to this other half, and nearly succeeded only to be shut out. Disgruntled, Ryou tried again, harder this time. Once again, he was booted. Sick of their little game, there was a final attempt to wrest control; he’d gotten as far as to catch a glimpse of information regarding the appearance of another Millennium Item, and then--

--And then he was here. 

Well, wherever here was. 

His surroundings had changed from the vaguely dreamy, out of body experience that he frequently found himself in moments before he’d fall into his soul room after relinquishing control, to something both familiar and foreign. His fingers trailed along a narrow corridor made of rough stone arranged into crude shelves as memories of wandering with his father drifted back to him. These were... catacombs of some sort? The thought made his lips upturn just a bit. How fitting.

Still miffed at his counterpart, he continued along, eventually coming upon a series of doors embedded in either side of the hall. One in particular, made of a rather dark and aged looking wood with a delicate floral pattern carved into the borders, seemed to call out to him. Upon touching it, it became apparent why. This is what his soul room looked like from the outside. He’d never... been outside before. 

Stepping back out, he opted to continue his exploration. If he couldn’t be in control of his real body for the moment, he figured he’d might as well make the best of it.

[honorablelandlord-a-blog]

; @nefer-itja continued from here

---- “Aw, really?” His eyes lit up excitedly, settling down onto the other’s lap        casually. It was rare that he could actually get someone who actually        wanted to associate with him. A light, shy smile formed. “How are you,        Touzoku?”

[hostofthering]

Win. @nefer-itja​

[kingssoul-a-blog]

;;starter for @nefer-itja

༼ “You would do well as to leave me be, Thief. I have not returned    for you to make my life a living hell on Earth.” ༽

[multifxrious]

@nefer-itja like this for a starter

“What? Th-That was an accident. I’m very sorry about that--!” Ryou held his hands up defensively, taking just a small step back. “I, uh, really didn’t mean to touch you there; I’m very sorry--”

[scarsofra]

All That I’m Living For

@nefer-itja

Malik had been prepping for this for months. He barely gave himself time to mourn after Bakura’s death, immediately diving into books on black magic and Egyptian mysticism to pass the time. He had even found time to sneak down into the tombs to read over ancient scripture regarding spells from priests and magicians.  

He knew at some point that Isis or someone else would come looking for the Millennium Items and he was right. It had been six months after the Pharaoh’s passing and excavations had begun in the old temple guarding the doors to the Afterlife. 

Under the cover of darkness, Malik snuck past the security guards and entered the underground temple. He clicked his tongue when he noticed the only security measurements placed inside was a barricade made out of wood and rope. “It’s like they’re asking for the Items to be stolen...” he huffed to himself.

He dropped the duffel bag he had been carrying down to the ground and approached the barricade. After pulling apart the rope, he slipped through and dropped down into the pit with a grunt of effort. 

Malik bent down and began sifting through the dirt with his gloved hands. He noticed that pieces of the Millennium Puzzle were gone while the other Items were still left behind. He glanced over, spotting the edge of the Millennium Rod sticking out of the ground. He bit down the temptation to grab it, instead continuing to dig until he finally found what he was looking for. 

Two golden spokes stuck out of the ground like the dead bones of a carcass. He grabbed onto the spokes and dragged the entirety of the item out and examined it. A bitter smirk crossed his face as he grabbed held the gold in both hands. “Heh. Never thought I’d hold this thing again...” he commented with a soft laugh. 

He then suddenly felt a pulse of energy surge through him as he continued staring down at the item. “Fuck...” he gasped. “I was right... you’re still in there, aren’t you?” 

Malik cautiously placed the Millennium Ring around his neck and turned towards the ladder. After climbing back up, he moved back to his duffel bag and carefully placed the Millennium Ring on the ground. He opened the bag and got out a few items he needed for the spell to work; namely various charms and animal parts. 

He then sat on his knees and held his hands out over the gold. The young man closed his eyes and began to concentrate his energy as he began slowly chanting Egyptian prayers and mantra over the artifact. It wasn’t long before Malik felt the buzzing of static emanating from his fingertips. 

Soon enough, the Millennium Ring began to glow a bright white light. 

[potofpositivity]

nefer-itja, where to start. Her TKB is absolutely incredible!!! She portrays him so differently and has taken the time to fully explore his character and story, and paint him as an individual rather than the villain most associate him as. It's really refreshing to see someone step out of the shadows and I will never stop gushing about her little Touzo, and she should feel so proud of what she has done!

> lavendereyes

[gameoverbakura]

closed starter for @nefer-itja

Several days had passed since Ryou had woken up in the new Egyptian exhibit wing with no recollection of how he got there, something of which was relatively par for the course for him by then. Yugi had taken the Millennium Ring from him once again--this time actually telling him to his face--and... and now he was left to pick through the rubble of the world he’d created. He’d blindly believed the Spirit’s assertions that it was benevolent and voluntarily did as it instructed, and now everything was ruined.

Well, almost everything. He’d overheard Jounouchi celebrating that they’d found the Pharaoh’s true name during the game, so it wasn’t a complete loss. Never mind that Ryou had already known, as he’d designed the tomb the group had ventured into in the first place, though at the time he wasn’t entirely sure just what he was painting; once again, he’d merely been following instructions. Something about that tickled him--the Spirit had been so intent on annihilating the Pharaoh and yet it’d still had its host add in the details that would lead to its own defeat. Despite all of its glaring flaws, it still played by the rules. Lawful Evil. Amazing, really.

It had been hours since the museum had shut for the night, and his particular part of the wing had been closed indefinitely until he could clear everything out. He’d specifically requested that the Director allow him alone to sort through the display table and, in fact, wouldn’t even allow his friends to lend a hand. He’d cited that since he was the one to have made this mess in the first place, it was his duty alone to clean it up. In actuality, that wasn’t entirely the truth. He was looking for something, and he’d be damned if anyone else found it before him. 

The sea of sand that had engulfed the playing field hid a treasure trove of miniatures, all made in his usual Monster World style. So far he’d uncovered two of the priests--Isis and Karim, right?--and set them aside, but there had been no sign of--

He paused, his knee sinking slightly into the table’s surface as a realization struck him. Kul Elna. Of course. He shifted his weight to adjust his excavation zone to include where he’d been kneeling and, sure enough, a familiar hint of scarlet eventually caught his eye. Finally! The figure’s paint had been a little worn away by the torrent of sand, but ultimately it was still in one piece, and that’s all that really mattered to him. He cradled it in his palm and gently traced along the details in the doll’s coat, its scruffy hair, the tiny scar on its face...

Somewhere along the way, he’d gone to rock back on his heels only to discover that the sand was even less stable than he’d thought. His free hand made a wild grab for whatever it could, fingers closing on an antique-looking hourglass as he slipped over the edge of the table.