knifemonopoly | IC inbox

[He gives Ryou a brief, soft kiss.

Atem already betrayed that trust once, by leading Ryou down a path that made him want to get himself hurt. He won't do it again.

When he pulls away, the world around Ryou will fall away, as well.

He's manacled to a table, and Atem is sitting on the other side of it. The walls are stone, and if Ryou tries to phase out of the restraints, he'll find it very difficult: all his senses tell him, you're in La Forteresse, in a conference-room.

Atem is sitting across from him, a pen and official-looking form in front of him.]

Your confession, please.

[He picks up the pen, places it to the paper.]

This will be going on your official record, and will affect the extent of your sentencing...so, please be thorough. Tell me everything you've done to harm the other monsters.

[Red eyes flick up, to meet Ryou's.]

Whenever you're ready.

Edited 2022-03-31 16:35 (UTC)

[Ryou feels...unbalanced at first, as if he'd blinked and gone somewhere completely different without realizing. It's disorienting and takes him a minute to get used to.

He glances at his hands, moves them a little. The metal is heavy. He can't leave. His eyes half-close, lips parted as he acclimates to this new reality. Then...Atem speaks, and his gaze is drawn upward.]

A-ah. Uhm.

[Confession?

He looks down at the paper...then back up to Atem. A confession. Right.]

Just the monsters...right?

[One long, clawed finger runs along the table, scratching against the surface. It feels real to him. It feels like this is actually happening.

(it should. you belong here)]

I've caused emotional and mental distress to many monsters with my actions, and closed off several of their options for integrating into densely populated human areas like Bavan. I've disadvantaged other shades with what I've done, because no human will ever delineate one shadow from another.

I've said...a lot of things I didn't mean. To make people hate me. Because I...I don't like myself. I said I wouldn't do that again, I'd respect myself better than that, but...I did it anyway.

And I...acted on my own feelings during an event I had no business interrupting. Your game.

[As he speaks, he mostly stares at his own claw, scratching against the table, but from time to time, he peers up at Atem, gauging his expression. That's where his eyes settle at the end of his tirade. on Atem.]

[The pen skitters across the page.

(In reality, Atem's gently directing Ryou to sit down, in one of the living-room chairs.)

The image of Atem murmurs as he takes all this down, disapprovingly.]

Mental and emotional distress -- [to monsters who were warned what the broadcast would involve and watched anyway,] -- sabotage of monsters' integration efforts -- [by participating in an event that would have frightened the humans away from monsters no matter what,] -- especially to shades, who are generally good at integrating with living humans and especially known for their rational level-headed reasoning -- [This is open sarcasm.] -- and...telling lies about yourself. [To protect your friends.]

Finally, losing your composure during another monster's operation. [One that was terrible to watch.] Is that all...?

[His own eyes come up from the paper, meeting Ryou's. They're cool, calculating, weighing.]

[To Ryou's reckoning...it sounds even worse when hearing it parroted back. And he knows, because he's not an idiot, that Atem is being sarcastic with regard to the part about shades.

His claw continues to scratch at the table, harder, making his fingertip ache. His ears lower, and if attention is paid, he averts his eyes. It's always hard to tell, given how they glow.]

...I think that's it.

[Isn't it enough? Wasn't just one or two of those things enough?

Ryou's tail curls around one of his legs, as if to seek some kind of comfort, but if it's him, what comfort is there to give, honestly? He needs to pay it back. That's all...]

All of that's pretty serious! I won't lie, it doesn't look good for you. But...

[He looks at Ryou (sits beside him) across the table (in another chair).]

...you didn't work alone, did you? There were others with you. Others who deserve to be here just as much. You're a criminal, but there was also a mastermind, a thief, a butcher, and the one who made it all public...

[It's meaningless suffering, Atem's found, that's hardest to bear. So, he shifts the focus of the punishment.]

Give me their names, and I'll reduce your sentence. I won't be as hard on you, if I get to penalize them all.

Edited 2022-04-01 00:03 (UTC)

[Impassive as he looks in reality, the Ryou in the hallucination has an immediate reaction to that offer. His shoulders tense, his clawtips all scrape along the surface of the table he's cuffed to as he balls his hands into tight fists, and his tail flashes bright orange.]

No. They don't deserve to be here.

[Ryou sounds very sure of himself there. He won't sell them out. That's why he said all the things he'd said on the network in the first place.]

We aren't going to talk about them. Just me.

[Atem stands, making the chair behind him skid back on the stone floor, making a nails-on-chalkboard scrape. He leans forward, his hands coming to rest on either side of the table, gripping it as his head comes forward. With menace:]

One of them had the idea to put it on television. One of them made the decision to tell humans that nothing can protect them from monsters. One of them cut a human up and called them cattle. And one of them approved the whole thing, and brought the tape to the news station.

They're all as guilty as you, and I want them all.

[He's giving Ryou something to focus on. Something to hold onto. A principle that matters to Ryou, that he can hold onto when this is over: he's not in this alone. He's the kind of monster who stands by his friends. He doesn't have nothing. He has his loyalty, and those monsters are loyal to him, too.]

Give me their names, or you'll get five people's punishments.

[Ryou flinches at the noise, but his gaze turns hard, eyes glowing brighter. Everything about this feels too real.

He remembers the people who told him he was making excuses, who told him that he was protecting his comrades, the ones who publicly renounced his friends, and it makes his lip curl, baring too-white teeth against too-dark skin.]

No.

[That's it. That's all. No. He'd never, ever admit that any of his friends had done this out of malice nor that they deserved punishment. For what, holding a camera? Disarming a lock? Cutting up a corpse?

Claiming power to protect oneself?]

I murdered the humans. I took the power I wanted.

[He leans in closer, matching the intensity in Ryou's voice.]

They all wanted power. And they all took it!

[A hand darts out, snatching Ryou's jaw to bring it closer to Atem's face, the grip hard, unyielding, unkind. Atem growls the words, slow and deliberate.]

You'll tell me what I want to know. You can't take five criminals' worth of punishment without giving in.

[He's talking up suffering that's really not going to be that severe.]

[This time...Ryou doesn't speak. He just stares coldly. It'd probably be more intense if he didn't swallow so hard, if he hadn't winced so hard after being dragged forward roughly by his jaw.

But it's still a challenge, unspoken.

He'll take it. He's placed himself firmly between a massive threat and four friends before, and then he'd given his soul for the victory. This would be nothing.]

....

[He meets Ryou's eyes for a long moment.]

That's too much. You're too proud, Ryou Bakura!

[Then, Ryou's face is shoved away -- not hard enough to send him falling over, but in a way that's dismissive, unimpressed, and might leave him off-balance. He strides around the table, and he unfastens the manacle-chain from the table. The heavy iron cuffs still press chill against Ryou's wrists, far too small to even entertain the hope of getting past his large shade-hands, and as Atem manhandles Ryou roughly, bringing his hands behind his back and fastening the cuffs together, he says:]

I'll break your pride. I'll show you your strength means nothing. It's only a matter of time.

[And he'll be marched, hands behind his back, to a holding cell (to his room) and sat down on a cold, ugly, utilitarian bench (his bed).]

[Ryou lets out a soft grunt as his head is shoved, and before he can center up again, glare at Atem--

--he's being pulled up, his arms are twisting uncomfortably. His tail whips to the side, glowing bright red, if only briefly. He deserves this...but it doesn't mean he has to like it.

Pride, though...is this pride? Is this what pride feels like? He has to think on it, because the words don't intimidate him quite as much as he'd expect. Is it...because he's thinking of his friends? Do they give him pride, he wonders?

When he's sat again, on the uncomfortable bench with his arms bound behind him, Ryou glares downward. This time, he doesn't bother to look up, to give Atem--no, his warden--the satisfaction of seeing his trepidation.]

My strength has meant nothing for a long time...now, for once, it might mean something again.

[Is this real? It's not. But it is. He feels this...in his heart, as an inarguable truth.

(stop fighting and take what you deserve)

His tail tip twitches by his feet, flashing so fast the color is imperceptible.]

[A hand darts out again, pulls Ryou forward by the front of his shirt.]

We'll see how long that lasts, on your knees.

[He pulls Ryou down roughly to the floor (in the dream only, there won't be bruises on Ryou's knees tomorrow) and --

(Ryou asked him to do this. It's what he wants, what his heart needs.)

-- gives a controlled, open-palmed (experimental, a test) slap across Ryou's face.]

When you speak, you'll call me "sir," or "warden." Otherwise, you'll earn yourself an extra strike.

[So, if Ryou wants him to go harder...Ryou can be disrespectful. He's setting a rule, opening an avenue of communication: "slow down," or "more," without breaking the illusion.]

Do you understand, prisoner?

[When he's pulled to the ground, Ryou's immediate reaction is to try and bring his hands forward, to catch himself better, but instead his wrists dig into his shackles painfully, the only evidence of the movement a metallic clatter. He can't help the pained cry as his knees make painful contact with the floor. This time the color at the tip of his tail is very discernable--A flash of bright yellow, like lightning.

(how many monsters have you hurt?)

Ryou looks up, trying to look impassive...and then he's slapped. His head snaps to the side, eyes wide, cheek burning. It probably wasn't even that hard...maybe it was though. All he knows is that the eye above the sting is watering.

No. no, he can't.

(how many monsters have cried because of what you did. cry cry cry it's what you deserve better start now)

It takes him a moment, before he turns his face back, stares at Atem with one eye slightly squinted.]

Yes...sir.

[Ah, so that's the limit, for now.

This poor gentle boy, Atem thinks. He can take pain, but he hates it...

Atem absolutely can't let AM get his hands on Ryou.

None of this shows on his face as he stands, feet planted in front of Ryou, holding every bit of power in this situation until the moment Ryou says enough.]

That's better.

[No second strike comes.]

Now...about those names. Who did you conspire with?

[So they're back to this then?

Ryou shakes his head. He's not answering that. Even if it means he'll be struck again, he's not answering, because he's not interested in blowing the whistle to save his own skin. Those are his friends. Even if it hurts...he won't talk about Mukuro, or Maya, or the Ring-Spirit, certainly not about Atem. None of them.

He's lost in the scenario, and he feels better for it. Not satisfied, that need to set things right is never satisfied. But it's changing, reconfiguring.]

We're only talking about me.

[--slap!!

There's warning it's coming, a wind-up, it's not at Atem's full speed or strength, not by far. But it's at the same power as before, and to the same place...it'll sting.]

Hah! I warned you about that pride! It's going to get you hurt, prisoner.

[He leans in, grabs hold of the shirt-front again. His face is inches from Ryou's, and his voice is a growl, low and full of menace.]

You won't remember your own name when I'm through with you, unless you give them up.

Names. The conspirators! The insurgents! Tell me!

Nngh!

[It does sting, hurt on hurt, and without warning, spikes extend from his body like so many front-side switchblades being triggered. It's involuntary, a defensive mechanism, and Atem's not even close enough to be hurt by them. Not even the hornlike protrusions on his head.

But it's enough to show that Ryou's affected by what he's doing.

One eye's closed completely now, the other looking Atem dead on as he responds. They're so close...but Ryou doesn't feel safe like this. He shouldn't. Of course not.

Especially not with how threatening that voice is.]

The only name I remember is mine, warden. I'm s-sorry...I can't help you.

[That's such a good tier-2 power to have, Ryou is so smart, to protect himself this way...]

Tch.

[Atem lets him go, releasing his hold on the shirt, and stepping back.

He steps around, striding outside of Ryou's field of vision.

There's a rattling of chains.

If Ryou turns to look, he'll see Atem retrieving an apparatus from where it's hooked in place on the wall. There are chains that run all the way up to the ceiling, through metal loops there, and back down. Atem brings these two chains around, and deftly hooks Ryou's manacles to them, one at a time.

For a moment, it'll be a relief: his arms aren't tied together behind his back anymore. They hang loose at his sides.

But then, Atem gives the chains a yank, and with a frightening rattle, all the slack goes out of them. Ryou's hands are pulled out and up, above his head. It's not quite enough to bring him to his feet, but if Ryou continues to kneel, it'll be uncomfortable.

Atem gathers both chains in his left hand, and approaches Ryou from the front again.]

Let's try that again. Who were you working with?

[When he's let go, Ryou slumps to the ground, trying not to whimper. His face hurts, his head hurts, but he can't let this be what undoes him. Not this quickly. No, he has to take more, to make it even, and to protect everyone.

He feels Atem doing something, but he's too lost in his mind to look. So it's surprising to him whenever his arms fall to his sides. He didn't realize until they were freed how much painful tension was on his shoulders, how the metal was digging into his wrists terribly. Now, free to move them, he can't help but try and raise one hand to his face.

It never makes it there, not before the chains clatter and pull, and he cries out again, as his hands are pulled above his head. He tries to get a foot under him, to ease the pressure, and manages. He's standing by the time Atem retakes his position, and it feels very much like Ryou's still under him, despite being taller.

His heartbeat starts to race, because he knows all it'll take is a sharp tug on those chains and he'll be on his toes, or worse. But it doesn't change the answer.]

I don't want to discuss that.

[A third slap, for Ryou's tone, per the rules. It's quick, sharp.]

Wrong answer.

[Atem keeps hold of the chains, but brings both his hands up. Fingers hook into the collar of Ryou's shirt -- and then pull roughly apart with a rrrrip. The fabric tears like paper -- first down one sleeve, then the other, and the ruined fabric falls to Ryou's feet in a pathetic heap. Ryou's naked to the waist -- it's cold in here, and he'll feel it, even as his skin burns from painful contact.

He leaves Ryou to shiver for a long moment as he steps over to the closest wall, which has a row of implements -- a whip, thumbscrews, some very sinister-looking pliers, and anything else Ryou's imagination fills in here -- and pulls a crop off of its hook.

(Short, easy to control, less brutal than a whip, is his logic. A full whip would cut skin, open wounds. That's more cruel than Atem wants to get, here. Especially right away. And with the spikes, Atem can't use his claws on Ryou's back...he's protected from bare hands, there.)

Crossing back to Ryou, his footsteps slow and steady on the slate floor, Atem uses the whip to tilt Ryou's chin up to look at him.]

Let's get the terms of your sentence straight.

Each time you fail to answer me, or show me disrespect, the number of hits you get goes up! Think of it as an incentive to cooperate quickly.

[There's a little slap to Ryou's uninjured cheek that's not painful, just humiliating. There's something playful to it, a reminder to be a good boy.

Atem takes a half-step back, chains in one hand, crop in the other. He holds it out at arm's length, pointing it at Ryou's throat. His question is authoritative, and his voice resonates in the stone-walled cell.]

Who were the other conspirators?

[Ryou's not numb to the slap, but it's starting to become...expected. The shade part of him revels in it, in this punishment that he's so clearly earned, but Ryou can feel his eyes burning, his vision blurring slightly with tears. But...he's not giving in. He's not saying stop.

He doesn't deserve it yet. And more than that...if this is his limit, then what does it say about who he is as an adversary? When he starts learning hand to hand combat with Reverie, what then? Will he tap out the instant things get a little too rough?

His endurance is being built. Everything he suffers here will make him more resilient.

(think whatever you like. yes. as long as you pay what's due)

By the time Atem tilts his head up, Ryou's tears haven't dried...but he's resolved. He listens to the rules, internalizes what Atem's telling him, is appropriately bothered by the tap to his cheek with the crop...and despite being visibly anxious about the entire situation, he presses his luck because there is no other course to take.]

It doesn't matter how many times you ask. I don't have an answer for you. Sorry to waste your time.

[He doesn't sound sorry enough though, does he? Maybe he is too proud.]

[The crop comes across Ryou's jaw this time, harder, stinging. It won't injure, just smart.]

Round one is a penalty, then.

[The chains rattle above Ryou as Atem crosses to behind him: he doesn't want Ryou to see Atem raising a whip to hit him, doesn't want that image in Ryou's brain.

No.

This will be from behind: six overhand blows, sharp and painful, land one after the other on Ryou's shoulders, alternating from one side to the next. When they end, Atem allows Ryou a moment or two, to catch his breath.

Then, he asks his next question, staying behind Ryou's back.]

Whose idea was it, to put what happened on television?

[The crop hurts against his jaw, stinging against an already bruised cheek and making his jaw sting. Ryou can't help but whine, but he swallows it back, gritting his teeth hard.

The chains clink as his arms tense, hands tightly balled. A penalty...wait.

Where's Atem going? Why is he going behind, what does he plan to do?!

The first strike takes him by surprise, making him arch forward because his shoulders were already pulled taut, his arms aching from the position they've been forced into. Tensing only makes it worse, of course, but Ryou can't help it. It takes his breath away, and causes his tail to writhe and flash in a bright new color--a red-tinged violet--each time he's hit.

He doesn't answer...not immediately. It hurts...he can feel the hot, stinging tears rolling down his cheeks, little representations of his weakness that hurt almost as much as what Atem had done.]

I...I won't...

[This isn't enough. It's not enough...

He has to be strong. Focus on something else. Focus...whose idea was it to put it on television? Who is he saving? Who won't he betray?

It's cold. he hurts.

No. Think.

Maya...she wanted to record it. It was her idea...right?]

I don't know, sir...I don't...

[Ryou is crying, and crying out -- it hurts to see, and to hear. Atem's not enjoying doing this to him.

But he's resolved. It would be worse, if Atem didn't do this, if he didn't commit. There's no enough yet, not from Ryou. Just a wrong answer -- and a respectful tone. So, he'll only add two more strikes on.

His voice betrays none of the mercy in his heart. It curls through the air around Ryou's ears like smoke.]

Round two: penalty.

[Eight strikes, in the same alternating pattern. One-two, three-four, five-six, seven-eight. There's less recovery time allowed, now, before the next demand comes:]

Who disarmed the traps, and told the humans that their feelings of security would always be false?

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, PLAYER1. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 10.11.0.0.01 * PLAYER1 has joined 10.11.0.0.01 <PLAYER1>** If you're looking for someone you knew as Yugi before June, you've found him! It's Atem, leave a message.

cw: hallucinations, imprisonment

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lies down. this is just v for vendetta but consensual. i'm so sorry

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cw roleplayed torture threat

honestly cw til further notice we know what's coming

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