+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

well, this is somewhat odd, and I know it could've been better, but please read and review it anyway cause reviews make us so happy!! I just wanted to post something...

Malik: *groans* must you always rely on these moronic people you barely know for satisfaction?
Bakura: *grins* no...she can rely on...aherm...other sources as well...*glomps me*

Me: I like this attention a lot! A whole bloody lot!

Malik: *extremely pissed* what the hell is your problem, Bakura?! Didn't you listen to what I told you earlier?!

Bakura: *rolls eyes* yes...but the stupid domino high school girls were just, well, too easy...and not as interesting...besides, I like making you angry...

Me: after all, maliky, you're SO much more adorable when you're mad.

Malik: *blushes* you really think so...?

Me: and blushing makes you even nummier...*glomps him*

Bakura: that's my word...

Malik: *to me, angry* damnit, stop that! Besides, that's the kind of thing I'm supposed to say to you...

Me: hehe...

Malik: can't we get rid of him for once!?

Me: no!! *huggles yami bakura* he's our friend...but don't worry, malik, we love you more...

Bakura: *sneers*

Ryou: I want some attention too!!

Me: I LIKE being the author and writing whatever I want! Fun! *grins* I must be dispersing now to do, umm...stuff...*backs slowly into her closet with malik*

Malik: GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, BAKURA!!

Bakura: NEVER!!!!!!! WHY DON'T YOU!?!?!? JUST BECAUSE I HAVE A WEAKER BODY DOESN'T MEAN I SHOULDN'T EVER GET ANY AND IT DEFINITELY DOESN'T MEAN I COULDN'T BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF YOU IN TEN SECONDS!!!!!

Malik: OH YEAH?! TRY ME!!!!

Bakura: EWWWW!!! HELL NO!! SORRY, I DON'T LEAN THAT WAY!!

Me: O_____o!!!!!!!!! let us tell story now...maybe I should try making seto my muse...at least he's...erm, tame...

Seto: *happy grin*

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-


A wearied man, he sat in the overstuffed, burgundy armchair; not a soul lingered in the room with him. Well, the average individual would have perceived this as the case. The roaring fire steadily smoldered in the sooty fireplace beside him, the orange flame casting flickering shadows across the nearby wall that obscured his already hazy vision. The sizzling blaze retained a certain glow, an eerie sort of golden aura that surrounded the fiery entity. He sighed, fatigued from the harshness of life, and glanced across the room. The crumbling, ancient clock, much like the man, began nearing the hour of twelve. Its deteriorating, once wondrously engraved fa