Hey, my name's Yugi Mutou.
Age 16 and a walking disaster zone.
-Home schooled thanks to a little good luck
-Currently in possession of the millennium puzzle + post Battle City deck
-Living in Scooby Gang HQ
-Working part time at Lúxuria Club for Flo & the Game Shop with Yami

 

OOC:

Okay so, of course, strange assignments about feminism in classical Greco-Roman mythology and doctor appointments eat my brain cells and leave me all but inactive. 

I’ve got the following people in my drafts and I am working on threads! Sorry for the wait guys, I’m currently only surviving on fluff, memes, asks, chocolate Easter bunnies and bad Disney montages. 

bamfofthecards asked
He jumped directly to the prince's bedroom at the ramshackle old store and took a moment to center himself. Bamf was angry with him for several reasons but had been more easily quieted in this matter. Easing from the bedroom without announcing himself to sauntered off to stick his fingers in the old man's room....

grim-secret:

grim-secret:

There was a brief incident involving a strange talking nuisance of a bird that plunged the store into disarray, remnants of a battle strewn about in the form of disorderly stacks of cards and small broken pieces of game boards shattered on impact with the floor. Solomon managed to talk sense into the creature to performing the clean up chore for him, small beak picking up merchandise, placing them into the respective areas while he did well to pretend interest in upholding the conversation they were engaged, tricking her into finishing by the end. He proved his identity well enough, the Mutou name shining strong in his skills of manipulation.

There was little evidence of the event left behind, the downstairs shining bright, polished and pristine beauty as it was beforehand. The only dictation that it was a work in progress still was the board situated over the bay window. If only there was a young back willing to help him with the task of installation…. like a granddaughter or great-grandson with a powerful need to help the elderly… Maybe he could garner sympathies out in the great beyond, a feeble performance that would rally the cause of many to assist, unknowing they were only helping to lift up a chore that he simply did not wish to engage, not that he hadn’t the know-how to manage it. He only the will to gather to put into practice what he was happy enough procrastinating.

He was able to rest easy in the upstairs apartment, not the quality that the remainder of the home advertised. The upstairs contained only the barest of necessities, the blanket covering his person hardly adequate to reach every inch of him. It was well enough, at the least, he had a bed to sprawl out on. A bed that wasn’t the cold stone of the crypts. There was a severe lack of alcoholic beverages, but it was almost worth the cost.

He turned over to favor the opposite side of his person, hands called under his head for extra padding, humming contently in his sleep.

And so the demand became a thing not to be conceded with compromise. Heba was not to be trifled with, no offer, however soft the destination, would strike him with an urge strong enough to supersede the need for information. “All right, all right. By the Gods, boy, there are better ways of making such requests.” Over a nice breakfast, or with an offer of a thicker blanket, perhaps? His tongue wasn’t a difficult thing to encourage to wag with luxury extended.

Badgering him further would only push him closer to the irreversible anger he wished not to experience of the Kor’eans, the more physical prowess they were known for. They had enough will behind the pack of their punch to knock heads from shoulders. His body, as tragically built as it was, was composed of genetics that he accepted as his own. He didn’t rightly figure he wished to have it rearranged to any degree.

"All right. What are these questions that have your panties painfully twisted?"

He huffed through his nose and in the back of his mouth, his top lip still sneering disapprovingly over the world before him. Requests made peacefully? Kindly? The prince was for that not Heba. 

"Have you died before?" He began without any real preface or preliminary questioning to ease them into the topic. "Have you existed without a body for any time?" 

bamfofthecards asked
He jumped directly to the prince's bedroom at the ramshackle old store and took a moment to center himself. Bamf was angry with him for several reasons but had been more easily quieted in this matter. Easing from the bedroom without announcing himself to sauntered off to stick his fingers in the old man's room....

grim-secret:

grim-secret:

There was a brief incident involving a strange talking nuisance of a bird that plunged the store into disarray, remnants of a battle strewn about in the form of disorderly stacks of cards and small broken pieces of game boards shattered on impact with the floor. Solomon managed to talk sense into the creature to performing the clean up chore for him, small beak picking up merchandise, placing them into the respective areas while he did well to pretend interest in upholding the conversation they were engaged, tricking her into finishing by the end. He proved his identity well enough, the Mutou name shining strong in his skills of manipulation.

There was little evidence of the event left behind, the downstairs shining bright, polished and pristine beauty as it was beforehand. The only dictation that it was a work in progress still was the board situated over the bay window. If only there was a young back willing to help him with the task of installation…. like a granddaughter or great-grandson with a powerful need to help the elderly… Maybe he could garner sympathies out in the great beyond, a feeble performance that would rally the cause of many to assist, unknowing they were only helping to lift up a chore that he simply did not wish to engage, not that he hadn’t the know-how to manage it. He only the will to gather to put into practice what he was happy enough procrastinating.

He was able to rest easy in the upstairs apartment, not the quality that the remainder of the home advertised. The upstairs contained only the barest of necessities, the blanket covering his person hardly adequate to reach every inch of him. It was well enough, at the least, he had a bed to sprawl out on. A bed that wasn’t the cold stone of the crypts. There was a severe lack of alcoholic beverages, but it was almost worth the cost.

He turned over to favor the opposite side of his person, hands called under his head for extra padding, humming contently in his sleep.

It seemed to be a sad state of affairs that made light-sleeping a prominent feature for the Mutou’s as well, no condition that seemed rectified with agents to help assist in the gradual fade to black. As comfy as the old man was snuffed up in his moth-ridden blanket, he cracked open an eye at the indication of a shadow descending to block out the pleasant light from the window, with a command most rude for a morning greeting.

No tea to accompany the demand? No crumpet or jellies or biscuits? Nothing but a very angry boy, plagued by some thought that brought him to the interior of the place, and it wasn’t for pleasantries. “Why don’t you snuggle up here with me, hm? It’s so much better than sitting strained by duty.” What possibly awaited them in the coming days, progressively becoming more intense, more pressurized, more dangerous. They were on the brink.

Heba’s top lip pulled back form the plump lower lip in one corner as if a curtain tugged up in one place by one hook. It was a look of disgust so pronounced it was difficult to endure for an extended period of time. The aging, the dying, were useless in Kor and their knowledge appreciate they were looked down upon for their lack of power and physical prowess. If they did not hunt they did not contribute and as only infant men could not hunt so the geriatric were as infants: not worth respecting. 

"I have questions," he warned, "get up." 

bamfofthecards asked
He jumped directly to the prince's bedroom at the ramshackle old store and took a moment to center himself. Bamf was angry with him for several reasons but had been more easily quieted in this matter. Easing from the bedroom without announcing himself to sauntered off to stick his fingers in the old man's room....

grim-secret:

There was a brief incident involving a strange talking nuisance of a bird that plunged the store into disarray, remnants of a battle strewn about in the form of disorderly stacks of cards and small broken pieces of game boards shattered on impact with the floor. Solomon managed to talk sense into the creature to performing the clean up chore for him, small beak picking up merchandise, placing them into the respective areas while he did well to pretend interest in upholding the conversation they were engaged, tricking her into finishing by the end. He proved his identity well enough, the Mutou name shining strong in his skills of manipulation.

There was little evidence of the event left behind, the downstairs shining bright, polished and pristine beauty as it was beforehand. The only dictation that it was a work in progress still was the board situated over the bay window. If only there was a young back willing to help him with the task of installation…. like a granddaughter or great-grandson with a powerful need to help the elderly… Maybe he could garner sympathies out in the great beyond, a feeble performance that would rally the cause of many to assist, unknowing they were only helping to lift up a chore that he simply did not wish to engage, not that he hadn’t the know-how to manage it. He only the will to gather to put into practice what he was happy enough procrastinating.

He was able to rest easy in the upstairs apartment, not the quality that the remainder of the home advertised. The upstairs contained only the barest of necessities, the blanket covering his person hardly adequate to reach every inch of him. It was well enough, at the least, he had a bed to sprawl out on. A bed that wasn’t the cold stone of the crypts. There was a severe lack of alcoholic beverages, but it was almost worth the cost.

He turned over to favor the opposite side of his person, hands called under his head for extra padding, humming contently in his sleep.

No one could be quite sure what Heba expected maybe to find him sleeping in a cocoon like so many giant moth men from those deplorable old horror movies Bamf watched? Either way what he found was a sorry, dying, sack of bones on a cheap mattress with his thumb very nearly in his mouth.

He sniffed, felt nothing, and debated suffocating the old thing. “You,” he called in splotchy, heavily accented, Japanese, “up.”

ghostkitten69:

awwww-cute:

My brother’s cat, Otis. He sat like this for 15 minutes, totally transfixed. Every time they would roar, he meowed back

dream big, Otis

ghostkitten69:

awwww-cute:

My brother’s cat, Otis. He sat like this for 15 minutes, totally transfixed. Every time they would roar, he meowed back

dream big, Otis

arcanelight:

bamfofthecards:

And kudos to you for surviving in equal class and style~ 

It was pretty easy to survive with so many wanting to take care of me. You had the same~

Reminds you how well loved you are when they all flock to bundle you up when you’re little. Aaaand demonstrates what softies they all are.

arcanelight:

bamfofthecards:

arcanelight:

bamfofthecards:

arcanelight:

bamfofthecards:

…..food poisoning ensued?

Atern can’t cook. The last time he tried? He almost lit my kitchen on fire.

Pft, poor thing! But you’re both alive so job done! 

Yeah I am proud of him for not killing me! Age six was easy. Give me a cookie, some milk, and put on a movie? I’m set.

You sound like an angel. I kept wandering off and talking to strangers: I was an abduction waiting to happen!

Yeah well, you were also born in a time when it was safe so that was normal. And you didn’t get abducted so kudos to you.

And kudos to you for surviving in equal class and style~ 

arcanelight:

bamfofthecards:

arcanelight:

bamfofthecards:

…..food poisoning ensued?

Atern can’t cook. The last time he tried? He almost lit my kitchen on fire.

Pft, poor thing! But you’re both alive so job done! 

Yeah I am proud of him for not killing me! Age six was easy. Give me a cookie, some milk, and put on a movie? I’m set.

You sound like an angel. I kept wandering off and talking to strangers: I was an abduction waiting to happen!

arcanelight:

bamfofthecards:

…..food poisoning ensued?

Atern can’t cook. The last time he tried? He almost lit my kitchen on fire.

Pft, poor thing! But you’re both alive so job done! 

http://arcanelight.tumblr.com/post/82456712669/bamfofthecards-arcanelight-bamfofthecards

bamfofthecards:

arcanelight:

bamfofthecards:

Then it’s neither of us. I’m abdicating to marry some Siberian divorcee or something.

Good! You sneak away from your captors and talk to homeless men or was that just me? What was Mac like when you were little? And Atern?

No I…

…..food poisoning ensued?