@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.











