knifemonopoly | IC inbox

[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?

[Ryou's tail doesn't flash again. It sustains its coloration, all the way up, and his shadow aura flares. It hurts, he wants to escape, he wants to phase, but he can't. He can't escape the hold of those manacles around his wrists, and his attempts don't save him from the blows.

So he writhes, but ultimately takes the punishment. There's no time to rest, no time to think, before another demand is made.

The Ring-Spirit. His spirit. His...his partner. They don't see eye to eye always, but...Ryou won't betray him. Never.]

H...humans will never have security. The statement isn't a lie, sir. You know this...don't you?

[Ryou's smart enough to say "sir", to try and save his hide. Literally. The spines only cover and protect so much of his bare skin...and he knows more is coming. He can't stop it like this. He just has to endure it.

(take their pain)

He can handle it.

(can you?)

He can.]

Penalty! Cheeky brat!

[The intensity's increasing: Atem's voice is louder, angrier. The strikes don't increase in ferocity, though -- they're still tightly controlled, measured.

Ten lashes, now. No recovery time. The crop whips through the air, whistling like an arrow.]

Round four! Who was the butcher who put on a gory display, worse than the new monsters had seen yet, calling the humans cattle and increasing her own standing with the Fog? Cooperate!

[Endure. Ryou can do it. He can. He can defeat the shame and pain in his own heart, and he can hold his head up high, as someone who wouldn't betray his friends, if he lasts the next two rounds...

It has to be close enough to torture to trick Ryou's brain into accepting it as a substitute for La Forteresse. He's got to be pushed, until it's enough for Ryou.]

Edited 2022-04-03 03:47 (UTC)

[Ryou screams, unable to control himself. His tail is writhing like a beheaded snake behind him, red-violet, then white, bright and fearful. He squirms, tries to move his body in a way that Atem might strike the spines rather than his skin, anything to make it less.

But even still, even with all his movements telegraphing how much he doesn't want to be here, to shoulder the burden of Mukuro's choices, he will not betray her. She, who had taught him how to hunt, how to exist as a werewolf. She, who he had found in Dyster and shared intimate knowledge with, and who had in turn told him about her sister.]

Th-the only...the only butcher there was me, I killed those men! I KILLED THOSE MEN!! I ATE THEM!

[He knows it's not what he's supposed to say to allay his suffering. He doesn't care. The darkness...it falters under this fortitude, this resolve.

But it doesn't stop Ryou from biting his lip, hard enough to draw blood.

The hallucination is convincing. He bites his lip in reality as well, and he's crying there too, though not nearly as much.]

[Thank god they didn't do this in the living room. Atem can't imagine what the neighbors would think.]

Liar! Stubborn bastard! Penalty for four!

[Twelve. This time, they're spaced out slower: one. two. three. four. There's no extra force for the attitude; now isn't the time to increase unpredictably.]

Final round!

[The crop extens forward, lightly touching the center of Ryou's back, between his shoulderblades, a threat and a promise.]

What is the name of the monster who knew you killed those men and ate them, and brought the tape in to be played anyway?

[He can taste blood on his tongue, feel it drip down his lip, pool at his chin. Dark and bitter, like black coffee. Ryou's face hurts, his back is in agony, bruised and beaten.

Stubborn...penalty...that's what he remembers, what he thinks of even as the world around him seems to go mute, as he takes the next round of blows. He can't hear himself scream. He's here, of course, it still hurts, his arms still feel like they're ready to twist clean off.

But he feels distant, until at last, they reach the last person. The final chance for him to save himself. Ryou can feel the crop between his shoulders, and he stays silent for...perhaps too long, focused on that sensation as he thinks.

What is the name of the monster who knew you killed those men and ate them...

All coloration fades from his tail. The spines recede, leaving a shirtless, beaten shade with one eye nearly swollen shut, standing on his toes. His answer is important, isn't it?

To him...to Atem...to all of them, in a way. But only in a way that matters to Ryou.

He smiles, the corner of his mouth quivering...then gives his answer, clear as anything.]

Penalty.

[Does Ryou even need the last round of blows?

...

Atem won't falter at the finish line. If he gives in, and it turns out to not be enough after all, and Ryou goes to AM...all of this will have been for nothing.

And Ryou still hasn't said enough.

So, Atem will follow the rules he himself set.

One, two. Three, four. They're controlled, but not angry. He doesn't even say anything. Five, six. Seven, eight. Ryou did it, he made it to the end. Nine, ten. Eleven, twelve. Atem is going to take care of him, now that this is over...he'll tell Ryou what a good job he did...

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.

And, at last, it stops. The crop stills, the room is quiet. Atem needs to gauge where Ryou is, before he makes his next move.]

[Ryou takes each and every strike. His body slumps forward, at the very end of it, he's almost convinced that he's going to lose consciousness at this point. Maybe, for a brief moment it seems like he has.

But that's not it. He's in his own head. This whole thing...did it matter?

No.

(yes)

...Yes?

(you don't need to leave)

He...can stay. There's no feeling compelling him to continue, nothing he can't run from. Nothing he can't suppress, for now. Forever, if he has it his way.]

Please...i-it's enough. L-let me out...Atem, please.

[Ryou can't bear another moment of this pain. He's already taken so much, the reality of it is starting to intimidate him.]

[Ryou's broken the fiction. He's asked to be released, invoked the escape-rule, and it's what Atem's been waiting for, too. In the real world, Atem lets out a breath of relief, and his shoulders slump; in the image, he simply fades out of existence. The walls and chains and bench and floor all dissolve around Ryou, melting out of existence, and he'll find himself back in reality, in his own room, seated on his bed. There are no bruises, no irritated skin where the manacles were, only a cool vampire hand in his, holding it gently.

Atem's other hand is at the juncture of Ryou's neck and shoulder. He looks into Ryou's eyes, searching his expression, all warmth and concern, with none of the ice and menace from a moment ago.]

It's all right. You're safe. You're home. It's all right...

[A beat. There's tears on Ryou's face. He has to resist the impulse to wipe them away, not yet, not until he's got a better idea of where Ryou is, emotionally, and how Ryou feels about him, after that.]

How do you feel?

[It takes Ryou a moment to acclimate to reality. His arms aren't chained, his wrists aren't hurting, his back...

It's...fine. He's fine, save for the tears on his face and the cut on his lip from where he'd bitten too hard. There wasn't even nearly as much blood. Ryou's heartbeat starts to race, his breath hitches as his eyes take in his surroundings. But then they find Atem, and by all accounts, he should be horrified.

But he's not. Logical or not, this is his Atem, not the one in the terrible game that Ryou had forced him to play, and his first, immediate move is to pull Atem into a fierce embrace.]

I'm sorry...I'm sorry for all of it.

[Ryou's not really okay yet, but part of the solution is to know that he hadn't hurt Atem with this. That hallucination must have been awful for him...]

IC inbox

honestly cw til further notice we know what's coming

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

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.