Malik Ishtar

It is foolish to believe one can ever settle his heart, especially with such monstrous darkness in his veins.

[tombkeeping]

The Beginning of the End

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

As much as he tried to focus and stay awake, it didn’t work. Where he was able to fight off magic like it was nothing but fairy dust, something like a tranquilizer was real. And reality hurt. Reality forces you to your knees and by hell Bandit had been on his knees way too often to go back to this view.  That’s why the Killer struggled so much, his pride, earned through blood and sweat, was what kept him going. But as he even heard B’s words becoming muffled and melting into the rushing sound of his blood throbbing through his skull - he knew his world would soon turn black again.

And it did. As he stumbled backwards, falling onto the armchair after he had caught one last glimpse of Maliks fox smirk. A smirk that made him want to sink his teeth into these cheeks and rip them off along with the rest of his face.

Bandits arms were resting on the armrests, legs dangling to the sides a bit while his head had slumped forward allowing his pale hair to fall into his face. He wasn’t moving anymore and obviously out of it. The tranquilizer had worked and as enough of the drug had spread through his system, it managed to lock Bandits mind back into that mental padded cell. Blank, nicely locked up and free of any sounds. His reality had pretty much stopped existing.

[tombkeeping]

It had not taken very long, from the curtain call to the final act, to the bow to the encore, it’d all happened nice and swiftly. Anti-climatic, an experienced critic would say, but Malik didn’t like climatic. Smooth and clean was his way, no blood on his hands if preferable.  The blond took a step closer, arms falling away from their crossed rest over his chest. Instead he held them to his sides, moving forward to examine that the wildebeest was indeed deep in slumber.

"Interesting." Malik murmured to himself, shadow looming close over the slumped body. He even allowed a hand to mockingly ruffle the messy locks of white hair, the gloved one which hid unwanted scars from their previous scuffle - the one the former tombkeeper was not prepared for. "Don’t worry," His voice was teasingly sweet, like talking down to a child. "Doctor Anderson promised he would be nice this time around…”

The free hand reached for the small cellular device to his back pocket, flicking it open and setting about dialing.

"Lucky my memory remembers that number, or I would have kicked you in the throat for having burned those files." A playful sigh as Malik put the phone to his ear, adding as almost an after thought as he waited for the digital ring to connect, "Too bad, though… I had promised to return those to the Officer. Ah well… He’ll be distracted enough as is once I get digging on that pitiful Doctor of his."

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

The male who had still been out of it, of course couldn’t do anything against the mocking gestures. Letting his hair being ruffled it simply fell back down to gently frame his rough features. Silence had filled the room for a while in which the King Killer didn’t move an inch. This was - until one of his fingers gave a light twitch. The beast was slowly coming back to life  and within a second his hand moved upwards to grab the Egyptian by the scoff of his shirt and pull him down so he had to stare right into the other personalities face.

"Why look what the cat dragged in ~"

The Psychopath mused and twisted Maliks arm enough to make him drop the phone before he stomped on it, breaking the device underneath his boot. "Nice to see you came back to play, let’s not have the dear doctor interrupt us, yeah?" He chuckled and then moved his arm around to toss Malik right against the wall. It seemed like the tranquillizer did only send Bandit to sleep and cleared the path for Mr.B to wake up and completely take over.

"This time I’m gonna finish what I’ve started…" He slowly licked his lips, letting the saliva drip off his jagged teeth as his eyes stared at Malik like a hungry wolf staring at a rabbit.

[tombkeeping]

One ring... Two rings...

Slurred consciousness twitched below him, but Malik's lavender eyes had already swiveled lazily to the Crime King's desk, about to stand and examine some of the contents - which, never happened, the vicious tug yanking the blond face to face with twisted, deranged features. Dilated pupils gazed sharply into Malik's own hues, staring so deep that he was certain whatever was left of his rotten dark soul felt slightly violated. The monster's hot puffs of breath disturbingly caressed the former tombkeeper's chin as it spoke, jagged teeth unmistakable. What the fuck...

Three rings... Four...

Abrupt pain from a twisted limb nearly jamming out of its own socket, the clattering of the plastic device to the floor before the undulated black rubber soles of combat boots crushed it mercilessly.

Five seconds... Six seconds...

The pounding beating of Malik's heart was all the blond heard rushing in his ears, everything like white noise all around, time seeming to slow. It was easy to see it all unfold, his eyes wide, feeling his own booted feet lift from the floor as gravity propelled him in one effortless throw - the psychopathic beast was ever so strong, stronger it seemed. The world spun, vision unclear, dotted and shit from such a slam against the wall, back feeling a disgusting 'crunch' from within. Shit...

Seven Seconds... Eight seconds...

It wasn't so much internally as an unpleasant sting and clattering of glass to the floor reminded him the rest of the tranquilizer's darts had no doubt shattered from the impact, the disgusting liquid forming an inappropriate puddle to the floor that could have easily came off as urine had it not been for the strong antiseptic scent. Blood mixed in with it in a lazy, dancing haze, Malik's back feeling soaked. Fuck... Nine...

Retreat. Fuck plan C. Scrambling like a drunken man on death row, Malik dared no macho face off this time around, adrenaline already pushing his instincts to ignore disorientation and fight to retreat for the door. Broken shards embedded within his back would have otherwise stung like a bitch, the mixing substances ticking his conscious time down like an ugly bomb. If that shit got within his blood stream, he was as toast as Bandit's subconscious.

Ten....

The hallway looked just as bright as headlights on extra killer volts, but that could have just been the miscalculating blond's disoriented head, the slam against the solid brick wall no fucking joke. Something had to have broken, but instincts kept pushing, making Malik take a swift turn down further towards the hall. He had to find a way out. Flee and re-plan. Fuck everything else. Fuck his pride. Fuck Anderson.

Nine...

Back into the club may have been the best choice, but a concussion didn't like making shit easy, robbing all sense of direction and letting the Egyptian gamble on which door he was reaching for. The first was locked,  but the next further down turned free with a pleasant click - yes, back exits were never allowed to be locked.

Eight...

It led to rusted, dirt salted steps, Malik taking the time to turn around and shut and deadbolt the entryway behind him. He didn't know if the deranged monster was after him or not, but cutting off the chance at all costs seemed the most logical in this clouded, muddled thinking.

Seven...

Vision swam, steps feeling endless as the blond descended, skin feeling scorching, clothes heavy. Fingers had to grip aggressively onto the rusted iron railing not face dive the rest of the way, Arabic curses droning their way past Malik's lips. Where the fuck did this lead..? Where was the fucking exit?!

Six...

Two doors awaited at the bottom, though in hindsight Malik would have wished he'd taken the left one, jingling the knob to the one that looked most like a exit despite no indication. Gambling had never been his thing unless the outcome had been predictable, but in a state of life or death, one would come to realize that these kinds of things were far away from perception, as if all reason left to sail far away and leave nothing but raw, animalistic instinct in survival.

Five...

Within was something no soul would ever wish to set optics on, no matter how bent on surviving, no matter how torn on getting out - within was the perfect recipe for panic.

Four... 

A psychopathic serial killer's playground, rotting bodies strewn and hanging, some sewn together, others thrust within split open flesh in places no limb should extrude from. Blood marred the walls, both dry and wet in matted places, all sorts of DNA in this room combined into a murderous slurr. The smell was wretched, sickening, invading the senses like a physical mutant disease which bent Malik's legs to a shaking, pathetic whim, uncertain of when he'd exactly fallen to his knees in pure, disturbed shock.

Three...

There was a bin of organs and limbs alike, some cut up on what looked like a butcher's workspace. An eyeball was blankly staring at Malik with a deranged sense of pity - as if judging, whispering. No. That was merely his consciousness beginning to fade, thoughts merging with incoherent memories, voices of past memories overlapping and animating every object in this room. Shock was an ugly thing, a counterproductive paralysis when coupled with tranquilizing fluid concocted for a five hundred kg beast... Even at such a small dose seeping in through bleeding cuts...

Two...

Footsteps. They echo'd closer. This was it. The end.

"Fuck..."

One...

Darkness.

[tombkeeping]

The Beginning of the End

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

Shrunken pupils had been staring down at Malik. The little rest of control that had been left kept the killer from striking immediately - instead he was going to listen to Maliks last words. Spoken words did not bother the double minded male at all. Not anymore. One mind was able to register the words Malik spoke, the other mind was already thinking of ways to butcher the one before him. These thoughts were actually strong enough to distract the killer from his actual action and before he could even blink - he felt a well known pain in his neck.

A white lightning hit his vision and for a moment everything was bright and white. As the white faded he could see the blurry shapes of his office and Malik before him. The tranquilizer even messed with his ears as all he heard were muffled sounds for a couple of seconds. As he slowly began to realize what happened, he turned his head to the side a little. Maliks words were moving closer and now he could slightly understand them under the static sound in his ears.

He gave a snort and slowly began to stumble backwards. A horse tranquilizer surely was more to handle than a normal tranquilizer , still Bandit refused to simply fall down and pass out. Not now. He held onto the table, trying to keep his head up but it was feeling very heavy, Like gravity had become stronger and was pulling him down.

This was bad. He had expected a weapon, not a drug. This little rat had stepped too far into the wolfs den and now he was even mocking him. Calling him weak.

"Now don’t fall asleep, listen to me ~" Again a clear voice of rage, guiding him out of this blackness. This numb state the drug had forced him into..

"You’re going to loose. Listen. You’re going to fall, wake up weak and confused. Are you listening? He knows your weakness. Listen closely. We need to kill him. He’s listening. Tear him apart. Listen. Rip him open. Listen. Don’t fall asleep now, LISTEN TO ME….."

Keeping his palm on the table, Bandit let his head hang down so his hair was messily falling over his face. He seemed to struggle, trying hard not to fall to the ground and pass out. But there was another struggle to this as well. He was listening - he heard it. It was keeping him away and with every second his vision became clearer, he could hear what was happening around him and he knew exactly where his prey was.

[tombkeeping]

There was a satisfied, deranged smile upon Malik’s lips as he watched the other brute stumble back like a drunken sludge, quite intrigued by how lodged in the dart was. Its reddish, bushed up counter-weight was quite a contrast against the tan skin. The blond mildly wondered if he should feel a pang of pity for this man, but then remembered what Bandit had once gotten Ishizu involved into, and any sense of simply leaving and letting this fool sleep it all off vanished. No. It was Malik’s turn to teach this high-horsed notorious killer that letting your comfortable lifestyle get to your own head was a mistake.

"I’ve no intention of killing you," At least he could admit one thing as the King Killer struggled for consciousness, half aware - Malik knew by now that the other persona was attempting to force its way out, quite evident in the way those eyes tried to roll back into Bandit’s skull but jammed, lids flicking in neurotic tremor. It was the first step to getting rid of it, the blond supposed. While Bandit may have been useful, this other poor excuse of a toxic parasitic existence was a hindrance. Thus the real target, even if the former tombkeeper had not intended to confront it quite so soon - no, he would have preferred to have the fool on-board with him on the whole plan. Would have made everything easier.

"It’s what’s within which needs to be eliminated… Like a poison flushed out of your system." Malik hummed, folding his arms as he awaited slumber to finally strike the other male. "I did try to explain how you would be so much better off without it, but I suppose he controls too much of your pitiful mind to even allow any real sense in. Hm."

He eyed the time casually, having already calculated everything - even the serum within the dart was nowhere near the full dosage actually used on the giant, neighing mammals. Anytime now should it kick in…

"You’ll thank me later."

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

As much as he tried to focus and stay awake, it didn’t work. Where he was able to fight off magic like it was nothing but fairy dust, something like a tranquilizer was real. And reality hurt. Reality forces you to your knees and by hell Bandit had been on his knees way too often to go back to this view.  That’s why the Killer struggled so much, his pride, earned through blood and sweat, was what kept him going. But as he even heard B’s words becoming muffled and melting into the rushing sound of his blood throbbing through his skull - he knew his world would soon turn black again.

And it did. As he stumbled backwards, falling onto the armchair after he had caught one last glimpse of Maliks fox smirk. A smirk that made him want to sink his teeth into these cheeks and rip them off along with the rest of his face.

Bandits arms were resting on the armrests, legs dangling to the sides a bit while his head had slumped forward allowing his pale hair to fall into his face. He wasn’t moving anymore and obviously out of it. The tranquilizer had worked and as enough of the drug had spread through his system, it managed to lock Bandits mind back into that mental padded cell. Blank, nicely locked up and free of any sounds. His reality had pretty much stopped existing.

[tombkeeping]

It had not taken very long, from the curtain call to the final act, to the bow to the encore, it'd all happened nice and swiftly. Anti-climatic, an experienced critic would say, but Malik didn't like climatic. Smooth and clean was his way, no blood on his hands if preferable.  The blond took a step closer, arms falling away from their crossed rest over his chest. Instead he held them to his sides, moving forward to examine that he wildebeest was indeed deep in slumber.

"Interesting." Malik murmured to himself, shadow looming close over the slumped body. He even allowed a hand to mockingly ruffle the messy locks of white hair, the gloved one which hid unwanted scars from their previous scuffle - the one the former tombkeeper was not prepared for. "Don't worry," His voice was teasingly sweet, like talking down to a child. "Doctor Anderson promised he would be nice this time around..."

The free hand reached for the small cellular device to his back pocket, flicking it open and setting about dialing.

"Lucky my memory remembers that number, or I would have kicked you in the throat for having burned those files." A playful sigh as Malik put the phone to his ear, adding as almost an after thought as he waited for the digital ring to connect, "Too bad, though... I had promised to return those to the Officer. Ah well... He'll be distracted enough as is once I get digging on that pitiful Doctor of his."

[tombkeeping]

Long Needed Explanation (Goodbye)

Dear followers,

Just a small announcement that soon DEATH SHALL COME.

Okay, no. More like, banditkingakefia's mun and I came up with an epic plot in which, well, will explain why I will no longer be active on this account. It holds too many ill memories (despite the amazingly awesome and good ones too!) for me to even enjoy playing this Malik anymore. I tried, trust me, and it's just like putting on soggy shoes and trying to walk around and feign being comfortable in them.

But fret not! This does not mean I quit entirely! Nope.

I’ve actually started a new Malik over here at arrogancies. Feel free to pester him. Oh, and for those who already don’t know, I also roleplay over on detective-mahaad and corruptism. (For those who follow the Domino Police VS Underground roleplays, Fun Fact: This last plot involving Malik will serve as a major plot device to come. :) STAY TUNED.)

Looking forward to seeing you all around on my other characters! Was fun while it lasted, and I want to thank all my followers for having stuck around and held an interest in Malik. I apologize for not having replied to any In-Character asks I’ve gotten, but, well, now everyone knows.

Thanks for reading~

[justicebound-inactive]

// was good while it lasted. Awesome in fact. But here’s to yet another wonderful plot twist and new direction in our year long journey of roleplaying together.

<3

This is going to hurt? Isn’t it? xD

[tombkeeping]

//Don't cry, faget. ilu <3 XD

The Cop Plot will be badass. I look forward to it.

[tombkeeping]

Long Needed Explanation (Goodbye)

Dear followers,

Just a small announcement that soon DEATH SHALL COME.

Okay, no. More like, banditkingakefia's mun and I came up with an epic plot in which, well, will explain why I will no longer be active on this account. It holds too many ill memories (despite the amazingly awesome and good ones too!) for me to even enjoy playing this Malik anymore. I tried, trust me, and it's just like putting on soggy shoes and trying to walk around and feign being comfortable in them.

But fret not! This does not mean I quit entirely! Nope.

I've actually started a new Malik over here at arrogancies. Feel free to pester him. Oh, and for those who already don't know, I also roleplay over on detective-mahaad and corruptism. (For those who follow the Domino Police VS Underground roleplays, Fun Fact: This last plot involving Malik will serve as a major plot device to come. :) STAY TUNED.)

Looking forward to seeing you all around on my other characters! Was fun while it lasted, and I want to thank all my followers for having stuck around and held an interest in Malik. I apologize for not having replied to any In-Character asks I've gotten, but, well, now everyone knows.

Thanks for reading~

[tombkeeping]

The Beginning of the End

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

As Bandits eyes opened again, they seemed free from the anger that was showing in his narrowed eyes before. Now the pale void simply stared at Malik since now the Killer knew what he had to do. Getting up from his chair, he let his arms hang from his sides, his fists weren’t clenched anymore. Like this, he stared at Malik for a while before amusement appeared on his face for a split second. “It’s not like you know anything about being a hero or a villain is it? You just tumble between that line, unsure if you wanna be the good guy or the bad guy…”

He let his neck crack, with heavy steps he moved closer to Malik and could almost sense the tension in the air getting thicker like fog. The hidden hand that had vanished underneath Maliks jacket could only mean a gun or any other weapon he had come here with.

"Now let me tell you about what you can do for me.. You cannot rid me of something that’s part of me." A clicking sound. "You cannot protect my girl." Another metallic sound. "And you can’t give me control when I’ve already been in control longer than you ever were. "

Now he was standing right before the other, cold eyes peering down at Malik. “You’re nothing and now you come here, pretending to be something and sounding like my savior? …” Suddenly the pupils in Bandits eyes shrank to a point where they were nothing but a black dot inside the white of his eyes.

"Let me show you what real salvation feels like…”

[tombkeeping]

The sensor limit had been found. What Malik had been slowly feeling for was triggered, even a fool could tell this carcass of a man was losing it as they spoke. The increasing jolt of a twitch within bulky limbs, the rapid lack of focus within shrinking pupils… Tch. The blond hadn’t meant to push THAT far, but ah well. Shit happened, and he would deal with this and smooth it over as he did with everything else. This would only be the first step to taming the wolf out of the dog, after all.

 “Ah, but I can rid you of it.” Malik countered slowly, a vile smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. “Unless you feel you need that side of you, like a needy child clinging to their security blanket.”

 Allowing to get Bandit this close might have been the first mistake, but the former tombkeeper refused to acknowledge it as such, confident in his own wit which had gotten him out of anything as always before. He let the unstable male approach to the point of almost being able to count every single one of the brute killer’s eyelashes, a front row seat to the fascinating transformation occuring in front of him. For a moment, Malik was almost taken in by it, watching as those pupils dilated to an almost inhuman degree, the curious intrigue within him like a scientist observing its experimental lab rat’s side-effects to a new drug.

 “How can one who’s clearly never been salvaged show another true salvation?” Malik breathed out in a dark, condescending dare, holding the psychopath’s unleveled gaze with knowing certainty reflected in those lavender orbs.  It happened rather swiftly, like a lightening bolt that could have easily been missed if one looked away… Malik’s arm whipped forward without warning, stabbing the beast of a man in front of him none too gently with a Horse tranquilizer dart. It pushed in deeper into the flesh further than it should have, unnecessary force behind it all, but the blond figured it could all be a little pay back for Bandit’s unnecessary gift of a scarred up hand.

 “You didn’t kill me the first time because you knew I would understand you better than any other fool around you, because I as well once had a demon within my skull,” The words were whispered softly as the Egyptian leaned in closer, the side of his lips brushing against the rough stubble of Bandit’s cheek.

“It is I whom can show you salvation in the end… Are you not tired of the beast controlling you?” A slight pause, before twisting the dart to make certain it hurt at least a little.

"Or is it that you want it to control you, because you’re too scared to do anything for yourself like a big man?”

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

Shrunken pupils had been staring down at Malik. The little rest of control that had been left kept the killer from striking immediately - instead he was going to listen to Maliks last words. Spoken words did not bother the double minded male at all. Not anymore. One mind was able to register the words Malik spoke, the other mind was already thinking of ways to butcher the one before him. These thoughts were actually strong enough to distract the killer from his actual action and before he could even blink - he felt a well known pain in his neck.

A white lightning hit his vision and for a moment everything was bright and white. As the white faded he could see the blurry shapes of his office and Malik before him. The tranquilizer even messed with his ears as all he heard were muffled sounds for a couple of seconds. As he slowly began to realize what happened, he turned his head to the side a little. Maliks words were moving closer and now he could slightly understand them under the static sound in his ears.

He gave a snort and slowly began to stumble backwards. A horse tranquilizer surely was more to handle than a normal tranquilizer , still Bandit refused to simply fall down and pass out. Not now. He held onto the table, trying to keep his head up but it was feeling very heavy, Like gravity had become stronger and was pulling him down.

This was bad. He had expected a weapon, not a drug. This little rat had stepped too far into the wolfs den and now he was even mocking him. Calling him weak.

"Now don’t fall asleep, listen to me ~" Again a clear voice of rage, guiding him out of this blackness. This numb state the drug had forced him into..

"You’re going to loose. Listen. You’re going to fall, wake up weak and confused. Are you listening? He knows your weakness. Listen closely. We need to kill him. He’s listening. Tear him apart. Listen. Rip him open. Listen. Don’t fall asleep now, LISTEN TO ME….."

Keeping his palm on the table, Bandit let his head hang down so his hair was messily falling over his face. He seemed to struggle, trying hard not to fall to the ground and pass out. But there was another struggle to this as well. He was listening - he heard it. It was keeping him away and with every second his vision became clearer, he could hear what was happening around him and he knew exactly where his prey was.

[tombkeeping]

There was a satisfied, deranged smile upon Malik's lips as he watched the other brute stumble back like a drunken sludge, quite intrigued by how lodged in the dart was. Its reddish, bushed up counter-weight was quite a contrast against the tan skin. The blond mildly wondered if he should feel a pang of pity for this man, but then remembered what Bandit had once gotten Ishizu involved into, and any sense of simply leaving and letting this fool sleep it all off vanished. No. It was Malik's turn to teach this high-horsed notorious killer that letting your comfortable lifestyle get to your own head was a mistake.

"I've no intention of killing you," At least he could admit one thing as the King Killer struggled for consciousness, half aware - Malik knew by now that the other persona was attempting to force its way out, quite evident in the way those eyes tried to roll back into Bandit's skull but jammed, lids flicking in neurotic tremor. It was the first step to getting rid of it, the blond supposed. While Bandit may have been useful, this other poor excuse of a toxic parasitic existence was a hindrance. Thus the real target, even if the former tombkeeper had not intended to confront it quite so soon - no, he would have preferred to have the fool on-board with him on the whole plan. Would have made everything easier.

"It's what's within which needs to be eliminated... Like a poison flushed out of your system." Malik hummed, folding his arms as he awaited slumber to finally strike the other male. "I did try to explain how you would be so much better off without it, but I suppose he controls too much of your pitiful mind to even allow any real sense in. Hm."

He eyed the time casually, having already calculated everything - even the serum within the dart was nowhere near the full dosage actually used on the giant, neighing mammals. Anytime now should it kick in...

"You'll thank me later."

[tombkeeping]

The Beginning of the End

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

His expression didn’t change the whole time, it was like a frozen river, staring coldly at Malik. Now the boy was bringing it too far and by now Bandit really got the feeling that Malik was losing all bit of common sense he had left in his head…

Mentioning Harley was the last drop that caused his patience to spill over the edge. Still he managed not to show much of the storm that was raging underneath the surface. Just the iced surface was there to give Malik the very last warning of leaving.

"You know very well that I’m aware of that. I’m not known for being Dominos Hero, you know?"  He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at Malik. It seemed all to work well, if it weren’t for that nagging voice that caused his fingers to twitch in anger…

"Are you just gonna sit here and listen to this brat making a fool of you?How pathetic. Show him that no one messes with us."

Bandit gave a low growl at that for this voice was right. It was a voice of anger but also of instinct and very often it had gotten him out of the worst of situations. Now he was going to let Malik live after throwing this dirt into his face just to strut off like he had accomplished breaking the Bandit King? No one broke Bandit, he had fought his way through hell to be the man he was today and not to be mocked by this little wannabe…

"Are you really gonna allow him to spit on your pride? You’ve grown predictable, that’s why he’s getting cocky.. He even knows your darkest thoughts about Harley. Get rid of him."

Bandit closed his eyes for a moment, in order to sort out his thoughts. They were swarming through his mind like angry bees and he needed to get rid of the buzzing in order to give a rational answer..

"Kill him."

He would make him pay.

"Kill him!"

He wouldn’t let Malik get away with this.

"KILL HIM!"

He would kill him!

[tombkeeping]

Despite the quiet, iced calm on the surface, Malik was not buying it. It was the oldest trick in the world to feign collectivity, but one had to admit, this man was doing a pretty good job of it. However… Those muscles which began to tighten in Bandit’s neck, the way that lone middle finger twitched, the dodgy eyes hiding the working wheels from behind the skull…

Plan B would just have to click into motion starting NOW.

"No, but Heroes are overrated, are they not?" The blond slowly smoothed out, casually taking a step back as if to lean against the wall, a hand making its way under the back of his jacket for his weapon - but not quite committing to any move just yet.

"There are ways to get rid of it.. That demon inside your mind. Would you not like that? That perfect control of what is yours? Never to harm her again?”

A wildcard long shot, but either way Malik was prepared. Horse tranquilizers were not his only defense.

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

As Bandits eyes opened again, they seemed free from the anger that was showing in his narrowed eyes before. Now the pale void simply stared at Malik since now the Killer knew what he had to do. Getting up from his chair, he let his arms hang from his sides, his fists weren’t clenched anymore. Like this, he stared at Malik for a while before amusement appeared on his face for a split second. “It’s not like you know anything about being a hero or a villain is it? You just tumble between that line, unsure if you wanna be the good guy or the bad guy…”

He let his neck crack, with heavy steps he moved closer to Malik and could almost sense the tension in the air getting thicker like fog. The hidden hand that had vanished underneath Maliks jacket could only mean a gun or any other weapon he had come here with.

"Now let me tell you about what you can do for me.. You cannot rid me of something that’s part of me." A clicking sound. "You cannot protect my girl." Another metallic sound. "And you can’t give me control when I’ve already been in control longer than you ever were. "

Now he was standing right before the other, cold eyes peering down at Malik. “You’re nothing and now you come here, pretending to be something and sounding like my savior? …” Suddenly the pupils in Bandits eyes shrank to a point where they were nothing but a black dot inside the white of his eyes.

"Let me show you what real salvation feels like…”

[tombkeeping]

The sensor limit had been found. What Malik had been slowly feeling for was triggered, even a fool could tell this carcass of a man was losing it as they spoke. The increasing jolt of a twitch within bulky limbs, the rapid lack of focus within shrinking pupils... Tch. The blond hadn’t meant to push THAT far, but ah well. Shit happened, and he would deal with this and smooth it over as he did with everything else. This would only be the first step to taming the wolf out of the dog, after all.

 “Ah, but I can rid you of it.” Malik countered slowly, a vile smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. “Unless you feel you need that side of you, like a needy child clinging to their security blanket.”

 Allowing to get Bandit this close might have been the first mistake, but the former tombkeeper refused to acknowledge it as such, confident in his own wit which had gotten him out of anything as always before. He let the unstable male approach to the point of almost being able to count every single one of the brute killer’s eyelashes, a front row seat to the fascinating transformation occuring in front of him. For a moment, Malik was almost taken in by it, watching as those pupils dilated to an almost inhuman degree, the curious intrigue within him like a scientist observing its experimental lab rat's side-effects to a new drug.

 “How can one who’s clearly never been salvaged show another true salvation?” Malik breathed out in a dark, condescending dare, holding the psychopath’s unleveled gaze with knowing certainty reflected in those lavender orbs.  It happened rather swiftly, like a lightening bolt that could have easily been missed if one looked away... Malik’s arm whipped forward without warning, stabbing the beast of a man in front of him none too gently with a Horse tranquilizer dart. It pushed in deeper into the flesh further than it should have, unnecessary force behind it all, but the blond figured it could all be a little pay back for Bandit's unnecessary gift of a scarred up hand.

 “You didn’t kill me the first time because you knew I would understand you better than any other fool around you, because I as well once had a demon within my skull,” The words were whispered softly as the Egyptian leaned in closer, the side of his lips brushing against the rough stubble of Bandit’s cheek.

“It is I whom can show you salvation in the end... Are you not tired of the beast controlling you?" A slight pause, before twisting the dart to make certain it hurt at least a little.

"Or is it that you want it to control you, because you’re too scared to do anything for yourself like a big man?”

[tombkeeping]

The Beginning of the End

[tombkeeping]

banditkingakefia:

Malik’s mouth had formed in a thin line of distaste, arms folding quietly over his chest. Clearly being spoken down to like a wounded animal didn’t quite sit too well with the blond, but for now Malik could afford to put that aside as there were slight twitches and shifts worth observing here. Was the fool sweating yet? As dangerous as this notorious ‘criminal’ truly was, once cut open, his insides functioned like anyone else’s. He had weak points like any live human being - the police force were just too stupid to notice and take advantage of it.

The plan here was to test how far this thin line stretched, how much control Malik could truly gain without triggering the demonic rat within. At times one merely had to rattle the cage to test how solid its hinges were… But caution was also necessary, as even with the most simplest of experiments, everything was always a gamble.

"Yes, that weakness. That weakness which hurts those you hold dear, frightens them, makes them hate you silently." Harley was the one in mind when murmuring those testing words, lavender eyes watching the brute closely. "I wonder if she would want you to return to the Asylum… In fact, many in this very continent despise you - they would surely lend a great hand in caging you back to this Dr. Anderson with a lovely red bow on your head. Do you not think so?"

Ah, maybe a little too much this time… But again, all was always a gamble when it came to the mentally unstable - Like balancing a tight rope in a circus act. Malik would switch to plan B on a moment’s notice if need be… He had not spent months thinking this out for nothing. If the so called Bandit King was going to be useful to him, it was necessary to get within that crooked, demented mind at all costs without triggering the wrong sensors too vigorously.

One only had to judge the approximate pressure limit on said sensors…

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

His expression didn’t change the whole time, it was like a frozen river, staring coldly at Malik. Now the boy was bringing it too far and by now Bandit really got the feeling that Malik was losing all bit of common sense he had left in his head...

Mentioning Harley was the last drop that caused his patience to spill over the edge. Still he managed not to show much of the storm that was raging underneath the surface. Just the iced surface was there to give Malik the very last warning of leaving.

"You know very well that I’m aware of that. I’m not known for being Dominos Hero, you know?"  He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at Malik. It seemed all to work well, if it weren’t for that nagging voice that caused his fingers to twitch in anger…

"Are you just gonna sit here and listen to this brat making a fool of you?How pathetic. Show him that no one messes with us."

Bandit gave a low growl at that for this voice was right. It was a voice of anger but also of instinct and very often it had gotten him out of the worst of situations. Now he was going to let Malik live after throwing this dirt into his face just to strut off like he had accomplished breaking the Bandit King? No one broke Bandit, he had fought his way through hell to be the man he was today and not to be mocked by this little wannabe…

"Are you really gonna allow him to spit on your pride? You’ve grown predictable, that’s why he’s getting cocky.. He even knows your darkest thoughts about Harley. Get rid of him."

Bandit closed his eyes for a moment, in order to sort out his thoughts. They were swarming through his mind like angry bees and he needed to get rid of the buzzing in order to give a rational answer..

"Kill him."

He would make him pay.

"Kill him!"

He wouldn’t let Malik get away with this.

"KILL HIM!"

He would kill him!

[tombkeeping]

Despite the quiet, iced calm on the surface, Malik was not buying it. It was the oldest trick in the world to feign collectivity, but one had to admit, this man was doing a pretty good job of it. However... Those muscles which began to tighten in Bandit's neck, the way that lone middle finger twitched, the dodgy eyes hiding the working wheels from behind the skull...

Plan B would just have to click into motion starting NOW.

"No, but Heroes are overrated, are they not?" The blond slowly smoothed out, casually taking a step back as if to lean against the wall, a hand making its way under the back of his jacket for his weapon - but not quite committing to any move just yet.

"There are ways to get rid of it.. That demon inside your mind. Would you not like that? That perfect control of what is yours? Never to harm her again?"

A wildcard long shot, but either way Malik was prepared. Horse tranquilizers were not his only defense.

[tombkeeping]

The Beginning of the End

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

Bandit didn’t even want to know what Malik did to get closer to the cop, he could read between the lines Malik was speaking and this book was not something he even wanted to open. So he ignored the others comment about the cop. Their ways of getting information was different and Bandit knew that. Malik was a schemer , a rouge so to say. Never showing his true face.

Bandit wanted to make sure everyone knew who he was. He wanted his messages to get through. However, now Malik was the one who had done his research. Not that it bothered Bandit, it was predictable considering that the blond was around the cop quite often.

The words he chose were obviously aimed to piss Bandit off, Malik was getting back to him for what his unstable mind had done to the blond one. He had heard these lines so many times - He could read them like a prayer. Shaking the slight anger off he rubbed his prickly chin a few times, like he always did when in thoughts, then he grabbed the file and got up. Making his way to the small bar, he poured himself a whiskey and added ice to it.

"Well, I guess because of the same reason you still start to panic when you’re standing alone in the darkness." He began, calmly. There was no reason to get worked up about this, really… no reason.

"The child never leaves our mind and while yours keeps you from not caring about darkness, mine learned it’s lesson as well." He rose the whiskey to his lips after he had sat back down on the chair.

"The man is a pain to kill, if you do something wrong he’ll make you pay dearly for a mistake. So I take my time, think of the perfect way to end his life."  He rose the brown envelope and tossed it into a trashcan beside him. Then he let some whiskey drip into the trash.

[tombkeeping]

If the Criminal wished to assume it was to irritate him, Malik would let him think it, though questioning mildly if he should bother to change his voice into a more flattering tone, make it all easy to hear again. Then again, Bandit was a big boy, surely he could take it from someone who’d once been in the same boat - and the blond knew the man in front of him had done his research well.  The thing here was to gauge reactions, observe the other man’s disposition and feel for the right slot within that complex little shambled mind.

 That information regarding Malik’s despise for darkness however caught the former tombkeeper slightly off guard, eyes narrowing. That was not something any petty documents could just list, or that anyone even truly knew other than Rishid…  He listened carefully nonetheless, dangerously, though it was his own heart now which skipped a beat. Merely thinking of it making his insides twist. Was the fool reversing the tables now? Did he catch on so early in the game? Malik held back a smirk from curving his lips, watching as the alcoholic drink spilled over the contents he’d promised to bring back to the cop. Eh, didn’t matter. Bandit was right where the blond wanted him, and there were still many other loopholes to go by.

"Oh? End his life how he clearly sentenced yours?"

A snort. “Even if the best revenges take methodical planning, what of the remnant within your mind?” Lavender hues narrowed, chin tilting slightly. Another slight jab… A mere push and prod to test the beast in the cage. “Kind of like a handicap now, is it not? A weakness still embedded like a thorn in your side.”

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

Bandit stopped shaking the bottle between his fingers nonchalantly. He seemed to think again and even though he was still calm, this conversation obviously was something the Killer was not in the mood talking about. He lowered the bottle a little and simply watched the golden liquid move inside its glass cage.

"You’re talking about the ‘weakness’  that beat the shit out of you?"

Bandits turn to stab Maliks pride right were it would hurt. He knew this was one of the reasons the blond one was starting a direct attack here. Of course in a way a sly rat like this Ishtar boy only knew. “I have ways of dealing with it myself. It sure is a bother but it won’t ruin what I’ve built.”

He put the bottle aside and pulled out a lighter, flicking it open he swiftly put a cigarette between his lips and lit it. The cancer stick rolled between his lips for a few moments as the smoke slowly began to escape Bandits mouth. “I have no Idea why you’re begging for another beating but I suggest you stop your efforts.. The carpet just got cleaned and it would be a shame to spill over it with your blood.”

He dropped the lighter into the trashcan as flames suddenly erupted from it, thanks to the alcohol on the inside, the files burned very well. The files now burned away, like the Asylum had, so many years ago.

"Go home and take care of your wounds."

[tombkeeping]

Malik's mouth had formed in a thin line of distaste, arms folding quietly over his chest. Clearly being spoken down to like a wounded animal didn't quite sit too well with the blond, but for now Malik could afford to put that aside as there were slight twitches and shifts worth observing here. Was the fool sweating yet? As dangerous as this notorious 'criminal' truly was, once cut open, his insides functioned like anyone else's. He had weak points like any live human being - the police force were just too stupid to notice and take advantage of it.

The plan here was to test how far this thin line stretched, how much control Malik could truly gain without triggering the demonic rat within. At times one merely had to rattle the cage to test how solid its hinges were... But caution was also necessary, as even with the most simplest of experiments, everything was always a gamble.

"Yes, that weakness. That weakness which hurts those you hold dear, frightens them, makes them hate you silently." Harley was the one in mind when murmuring those testing words, lavender eyes watching the brute closely. "I wonder if she would want you to return to the Asylum... In fact, many in this very continent despise you - they would surely lend a great hand in caging you back to this Dr. Anderson with a lovely red bow on your head. Do you not think so?"

Ah, maybe a little too much this time... But again, all was always a gamble when it came to the mentally unstable - Like balancing a tight rope in a circus act. Malik would switch to plan B on a moment's notice if need be... He had not spent months thinking this out for nothing. If the so called Bandit King was going to be useful to him, it was necessary to get within that crooked, demented mind at all costs without triggering the wrong sensors too vigorously.

One only had to judge the approximate pressure limit on said sensors...

[tombkeeping]

The Beginning of the End

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

Bandit pulled the papers out of the envelope and the first thing he saw were two pictures that slipped out with the papers and landed on the table before him. Bandit stared down at them, a stoic expression on his face as he held the papers still between his fingers but the eyes on the pictures. He didn’t expect Malik to be someone to dig out old stories, especially not such nasty stories…

After he managed to move his eyes away from the pictures, he looked at the files themselves and skimmed over what was written on them. These files held every kind of information he had given the cop. So Malik probably got them from the cop himself or just took them. Bandit could think of many reasons for Malik to get himself these files and bring them to him - yet he did not want to guess. He was not in the mood for it.

Looking up at Malik again he dropped the file back onto the table so the envelope landed on the photos. He lazily scratched his prickly throat up to his chin and leaned back in the chair. As if reading this had made him tired. “What’s with the stolen files? The cop must have given you a hard time taking these with you.” …

[tombkeeping]

Malik watched the criminal silently, observed every calm inhale and exhale of breath Bandit took, wondering how fast that heart was beating now. That single organ was one to never lie, no matter how collected the exterior looked - thus why one should never let another too close. They might be able to hear it.

"No trouble at all, actually. Unlike you, I’d already locked good terms with our little Officer friend… quite intimately so," The blond smirked, before giving a casual shrug. Didn’t matter that it’d been a while since that one night he and the Officer laid in the nude, the sensitive ones always likely to keep a connection from it no matter how many eons passed. "But that’s another story. We’re here to talk about these… Or more precisely, a certain Doctor you know quite well."

Malik’s eyes glinted as the two syllabled noun rolled passed his lips. He was still watching Bandit carefully, treading on eggshells, he knew. But this was necessary for his next plan to execute. How far the blond could push this uneasy psychopath for his own selfish reasons would all be determined right here and now.

"So he tortured you, experimented all he could on you like a trapped, little lab-rat. You were his prized prodigy, as they say…" Malik went on slowly, fully knowing this would be the line to make it or break it. Perhaps the biggest gamble the former tombkeeper had ever taken, the worst flame to play with - but the sheer excitement of it, the adrenaline to keep testing, to see beyond this demented man’s very walls called to him. "He made you feel weak for the longest time in your short life, didn’t he. I understand weak, I hate weak. But I wonder…" His voice lowered, eyes focused in complete interest. "Why let him live? You suffered and hurt, you bled, you cried…"

Only once inside a brittle mind could full control be taken…

"Why?"

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

Bandit didn’t even want to know what Malik did to get closer to the cop, he could read between the lines Malik was speaking and this book was not something he even wanted to open. So he ignored the others comment about the cop. Their ways of getting information was different and Bandit knew that. Malik was a schemer , a rouge so to say. Never showing his true face.

Bandit wanted to make sure everyone knew who he was. He wanted his messages to get through. However, now Malik was the one who had done his research. Not that it bothered Bandit, it was predictable considering that the blond was around the cop quite often.

The words he chose were obviously aimed to piss Bandit off, Malik was getting back to him for what his unstable mind had done to the blond one. He had heard these lines so many times - He could read them like a prayer. Shaking the slight anger off he rubbed his prickly chin a few times, like he always did when in thoughts, then he grabbed the file and got up. Making his way to the small bar, he poured himself a whiskey and added ice to it.

"Well, I guess because of the same reason you still start to panic when you’re standing alone in the darkness." He began, calmly. There was no reason to get worked up about this, really… no reason.

"The child never leaves our mind and while yours keeps you from not caring about darkness, mine learned it’s lesson as well." He rose the whiskey to his lips after he had sat back down on the chair.

"The man is a pain to kill, if you do something wrong he’ll make you pay dearly for a mistake. So I take my time, think of the perfect way to end his life."  He rose the brown envelope and tossed it into a trashcan beside him. Then he let some whiskey drip into the trash.

[tombkeeping]

If the Criminal wished to assume it was to irritate him, Malik would let him think it, though questioning mildly if he should bother to change his voice into a more flattering tone, make it all easy to hear again. Then again, Bandit was a big boy, surely he could take it from someone who'd once been in the same boat - and the blond knew the man in front of him had done his research well.  The thing here was to gauge reactions, observe the other man’s disposition and feel for the right slot within that complex little shambled mind.

 That information regarding Malik’s despise for darkness however caught the former tombkeeper slightly offguard, eyes narrowing. That was not something any petty documents could just list, or that anyone even truly knew other than Rishid...  He listened carefully nonetheless, dangerously, though it was his own heart now which skipped a beat. Merely thinking of it making his insides twist. Was the fool reversing the tables now? Did he catch on so early in the game? Malik held back a smirk from curving his lips, watching as the alcoholic drink spilled over the contents he'd promised to bring back to the cop. Eh, didn't matter. Bandit was right where the blond wanted him, and there were still many other loopholes to go by.

"Oh? End his life how he clearly sentenced yours?"

A snort. "Even if the best revenges take methodical planning, what of the remnant within your mind?" Lavender hues narrowed, chin tilting slightly. Another slight jab... A mere push and prod to test the beast in the cage. "Kind of like a handicap now, is it not? A weakness still embedded like a thorn in your side."

[tombkeeping]

The Beginning of the End

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

As Malik had stepped into the bar, the Killer was obviously surprised. After their last encounter, the blond one had made obvious that he was sick of Bandit and his Underground. At least for a while. It seemed that unfinished business had forced him to return to the place of his near death experience.  Bandit was not one to judge, Malik had fought bravely and even managed to injure the beast lingering inside a mental cage. He would have done the same.

Therefor he was neutral towards the boy, still, he didn’t trust him. Bandit got up and put the newspaper he was reading down. Without any word, they ventured to his office were the doors were closed. Sitting down the Killer just waited for Malik to speak up. The envelope in his hand caught his attention first though, he could not guess what could be written in there. The possibilities were too many, yet he had a feeling that Malik did not return for a happy reunion …

"I’m kinda surprised to see you here again after your tantrum months ago. What brings you back?"

[tombkeeping]

Not so much sick of Bandit as the Egyptian merely needed space, time to re-calculate, re-group his plans and assumptions. An alter ego had been the least of Malik’s expectations, nor something he’d been ready to deal with while honing such a hideous injury. Like a wounded animal, the blond retreated in solitude, rented a cottage by the ocean and allowed his injuries to heal up properly before even making anymore moves. Staying close to Bandit would have only been a foolish move, and staying close to the Officer would have derailed the whole thing off to a flaming wreck.

Once inside the Criminal’s office, it never ceased to intrigue Malik how padded these walls were, soundproofed to the point of barely hearing a thing within the bar. If it wasn’t for the pulsing vibrations, one could almost be fooled into believing themselves in another place entirely.

“My tantrum?” Malik snorted, tossing the envelope onto the killer’s desk before taking a comfortable seat in front of him. The Egyptian’s eyes didn’t look all too amused by the topic being mentioned. “I would say it was more of your other reckless, psychotic identity’s conniption fit that put a damper in everything,” He paused, slowly tilting his chin as he watched Bandit rip open the top flap of the envelope. Speaking from experience only seemed to make Malik slightly more bitter, distastefully remembering very well himself what it was like… But that didn’t mean the brute in front of him would win any sympathy. No, they were nothing but pawns to the other, and if the conniving con-artist felt like testing the limits every now and then for his own sick amusement, he would…

"As it no doubt does with everything else in your life, hm?"

…Because after all, he was free. Bandit was not.

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

Bandit pulled the papers out of the envelope and the first thing he saw were two pictures that slipped out with the papers and landed on the table before him. Bandit stared down at them, a stoic expression on his face as he held the papers still between his fingers but the eyes on the pictures. He didn’t expect Malik to be someone to dig out old stories, especially not such nasty stories…

After he managed to move his eyes away from the pictures, he looked at the files themselves and skimmed over what was written on them. These files held every kind of information he had given the cop. So Malik probably got them from the cop himself or just took them. Bandit could think of many reasons for Malik to get himself these files and bring them to him - yet he did not want to guess. He was not in the mood for it.

Looking up at Malik again he dropped the file back onto the table so the envelope landed on the photos. He lazily scratched his prickly throat up to his chin and leaned back in the chair. As if reading this had made him tired. “What’s with the stolen files? The cop must have given you a hard time taking these with you.” …

[tombkeeping]

Malik watched the criminal silently, observed every calm inhale and exhale of breath Bandit took, wondering how fast that heart was beating now. That single organ was one to never lie, no matter how collected the exterior looked - thus why one should never let another too close. They might be able to hear it.

"No trouble at all, actually. Unlike you, I'd already locked good terms with our little Officer friend... quite intimately so," The blond smirked, before giving a casual shrug. Didn't matter that it'd been a while since that one night he and the Officer laid in the nude, the sensitive ones always likely to keep a connection from it no matter how many eons passed. "But that's another story. We're here to talk about these... Or more precisely, a certain Doctor you know quite well."

Malik's eyes glinted as the two syllabled noun rolled passed his lips. He was still watching Bandit carefully, treading on eggshells, he knew. But this was necessary for his next plan to execute. How far the blond could push this uneasy psychopath for his own selfish reasons would all be determined right here and now.

"So he tortured you, experimented all he could on you like a trapped, little lab-rat. You were his prized prodigy, as they say..." Malik went on slowly, fully knowing this would be the line to make it or break it. Perhaps the biggest gamble the former tombkeeper had ever taken, the worst flame to play with - but the sheer excitement of it, the adrenaline to keep testing, to see beyond this demented man's very walls called to him. "He made you feel weak for the longest time in your short life, didn't he. I understand weak, I hate weak. But I wonder..." His voice lowered, eyes focused in complete interest. "Why let him live? You suffered and hurt, you bled, you cried..."

Only once inside a brittle mind could full control be taken...

"Why?"

[justicebound-inactive]

"If that is what you wish to believe, then by all means... I've other things at the moment. I've missed these pleasant talks~"

"Malik you know you are my friend. If you insist on making yourself so unreachable-…"

"You’re only here for the files."

[tombkeeping]

"Trust me on this." Malik motioned to the coatrack, where his leather jacket still hung after so many months of his presence being so stagnant. "I was going to wait until you checked the pockets yourself, but with such a face, how can I leave you with nothing in exchange for these?"

He held up the very folder with a small, confident smirk, not minding the accusation. If Ryou thought Malik had only come for the files, then that was all right. In truth, there'd been many reasons to it, a feeling the blond couldn't quite explain, but he rather not think about it.

As he turned to leave, a last, reassuring smile, was tossed over his shoulder. Later, Malik would wonder if that smile had been the most honest, real thing he'd ever shown the Officer, other than once revealing the scars which marred his back.

"I'll explain when I return with the files tonight, deal? By the by, you may keep the jacket for now. It suits your living room."

And then much later after that, Malik would lastly wonder why he didn't kiss Ryou right then before closing the door.

[tombkeeping]

The Beginning of the End

  It’d been perhaps a month, maybe three or five, since the sound of the Egyptian’s leather boots were heard within Toxic’s somber walls. Then again, did anyone ever hear them at all with such dark notes of melodic drunkenness lounging or dancing about to heavy beats which reached down to your very core. How one could sit here every night and not go mad from such constant noise was beyond Malik. But, Bandit was already mad. Far beyond mad.

  Lavender hues caught silverish-mauve circled pupils, motioning with his head to the criminal’s back office. One hand was in Malik’s pocket, the other clad in thick leather, still healing, still greatly scarred, fingers holding between them a large white envelope.

 There was still bitterness in the air from the events which transpired between them upon their last meeting, at least, Malik never truly forgave the one within Bandit’s mind which was truly responsible. Some days he hoped that bastard’s kneecap still ached before it rained.

[banditborn-deactivated20151210]

As Malik had stepped into the bar, the Killer was obviously surprised. After their last encounter, the blond one had made obvious that he was sick of Bandit and his Underground. At least for a while. It seemed that unfinished business had forced him to return to the place of his near death experience.  Bandit was not one to judge, Malik had fought bravely and even managed to injure the beast lingering inside a mental cage. He would have done the same.

Therefor he was neutral towards the boy, still, he didn’t trust him. Bandit got up and put the newspaper he was reading down. Without any word, they ventured to his office were the doors were closed. Sitting down the Killer just waited for Malik to speak up. The envelope in his hand caught his attention first though, he could not guess what could be written in there. The possibilities were too many, yet he had a feeling that Malik did not return for a happy reunion …

"I’m kinda surprised to see you here again after your tantrum months ago. What brings you back?"

[tombkeeping]

Not so much sick of Bandit as the Egyptian merely needed space, time to re-calculate, re-group his plans and assumptions. An alter ego had been the least of Malik's expectations, nor something he'd been ready to deal with while honing such a hideous injury. Like a wounded animal, the blond retreated in solitude, rented a cottage by the ocean and allowed his injuries to heal up properly before even making anymore moves. Staying close to Bandit would have only been a foolish move, and staying close to the Officer would have derailed the whole thing off to a flaming wreck.

Once inside the Criminal's office, it never ceased to intrigue Malik how padded these walls were, soundproofed to the point of barely hearing a thing within the bar. If it wasn't for the pulsing vibrations, one could almost be fooled into believing themselves in another place entirely.

"My tantrum?" Malik snorted, tossing the envelope onto the killer's desk before taking a comfortable seat in front of him. The Egyptian's eyes didn't look all too amused by the topic being mentioned. "I would say it was more of your other reckless, psychotic identity's conniption fit that put a damper in everything," He paused, slowly tilting his chin as he watched Bandit rip open the top flap of the envelope. Speaking from experience only seemed to make Malik slightly more bitter, distastefully remembering very well himself what it was like... But that didn't mean the brute in front of him would win any sympathy. No, they were nothing but pawns to the other, and if the conniving con-artist felt like testing the limits every now and then for his own sick amusement, he would...

"As it no doubt does with everything else in your life, hm?"

...Because after all, he was free. Bandit was not.

[tombkeeping]

The Beginning of the End

  It’d been perhaps a month, maybe three or five, since the sound of the Egyptian’s leather boots were heard within Toxic’s somber walls. Then again, did anyone ever hear them at all with such dark notes of melodic drunkenness lounging or dancing about to heavy beats which reached down to your very core. How one could sit here every night and not go mad from such constant noise was beyond Malik. But, Bandit was already mad. Far beyond mad.

  Lavender hues caught silverish-mauve circled pupils, motioning with his head to the criminal’s back office. One hand was in Malik’s pocket, the other clad in thick leather, still healing, still greatly scarred, fingers holding between them a large white envelope.

 There was still bitterness in the air from the events which transpired between them upon their last meeting, at least, Malik never truly forgave the one within Bandit’s mind which was truly responsible. Some days he hoped that bastard’s kneecap still ached before it rained.

[tombkeeping]

Malik, between us, has Rishid ever... belly danced? OwO

…I do hope he hasn’t, for anyone’s bloody sake.

[tombkeeping]

I love the middle east, but how do they handle- Rocking burqas while riding camels~? :D

…What?

[justicebound-inactive]

Keep your Enemies close, Officers Closer

[tombkeeping]

"So I’ve heard," The Egyptian nodded in approval, casually propping his feet up upon the coffee table. His gloved hands flexed slowly, certain fingers beneath the leather still aching from his own waltz with the Bandit King - or rather, the Bandit King’s wrong personality.

 "What’s for dinner?" As casual as it sounded, Malik was really only testing the waters, pushing to see how far things had strayed during time wasted elsewhere recovering. How much of a hold did he still have over the officer? Where did things truly stand at the moment? And if this other visitor had become a key individual to Ryou, things might have to be tweaked slightly.

[justicebound-inactive]

Ryou didn’t reply instantly, instead he looked away so he didn’t have to face that heart warming smile Malik knew he possessed, “Malik…" he started slowly, “you’ve been gone for months you can’t-… you can’t expects things to have not changed," 

He sighed and moved to sit down on the arm chair opposite the blond, staring at the biker who still lounged so comfortably in his home, “you can’t even tell me where you’ve been, and you expect me to go back to … whatever, it was before?"

[tombkeeping]

Lavender eyes easily read the behavior, gauging briefly from which angle he would have to work from. Not so bad, not as worse as he had assumed. Perhaps Malik could play into this shift of pace. "Been out of the country." He admitted, gaze looking down as if masking a certain hurt from the other male's honest words. "I cannot really say why. Let's just say Bandit kind of got wind of my leaking information, and..."  The blond purposely left the rest hang for a moment, deciding a little suspense would add a flavor to the cooking pot of persuasion. While it wasn't entirely a lie, the only difference was that Bandit never did care what Malik did, nor had the scuffle even been about anything the blond had done in the first place.  "The witness protection unit would have been useless. Plus, I rather kick a pile of horse manure than bend my pride that far. Besides," Those eyes finally did look back to the officer, a small knowing smile curving those lips, as if finally sharing an unspoken secret. "You and I both know I'm no outstanding civilian of pure innocence, either."

[justicebound-inactive]

Keep your Enemies close, Officers Closer

tombkeeping said: "lately? around." he said simply, lounging about on the officer’s sofa as he always had previously. the blond was smirking, already knowing about the apartment’s other visitor. “and how about you? where have you been?"

[justicebound-inactive]

"I have been right here, where I have always been," he informed the blond, “I uh… I got back on the force. Even back on Bandit’s case,"

[tombkeeping]

"So I've heard," The Egyptian nodded in approval, casually propping his feet up upon the coffee table. His gloved hands flexed slowly, certain fingers beneath the leather still aching from his own waltz with the Bandit King - or rather, the Bandit King's wrong personality.  "What's for dinner?" As casual as it sounded, Malik was really only testing the waters, pushing to see how far things had strayed during time wasted elsewhere recovering. How much of a hold did he still have over the officer? Where did things truly stand at the moment? And if this other visitor had become a key individual to Ryou, things might have to be tweaked slightly.