It's a normal night for the likes of Jake Lockley. Phasing into consciousness with no recollection of what he was doing, how he got there or why he's dressed like a total knobhead. Where the hell did he park the car? It better not be towed again. He can't imagine he's had it parked at the meter for more than ten minutes.
Jake is vaguely aware of his alters. He knows he has them, but knows very little about them or what they're like. He has the sinking suspicion that they hog more of the shared time than he does by a large margin, but has no means of doing anything about this. He tries not to think about it, as dwelling on his lack of control isn't productive. The cranky old bird is always quick to remind him of this.
Jake walks down dark streets, taking a leisurely jog in search of his car. Four blocks down he spots it cleverly parked in one of the city's few free twenty-four hour parking zones. These are always in awful neighborhoods, hence why it's free. Nobody in their right mind would pay to park here.
An all black stray cat lies on the hood of the white limo. If it were any other color, he wouldn't be able to see it in this lighting. How simultaneously cute and annoying. Jake reaches out, lifting the cat by the scruff. The cat hisses and swats at Jake.
The familiar voice of Khonshu booms from behind Jake. "Put the cat down."
Jake goes to put the cat down on the ground and is stopped once more. "Where you found it."
"Si." Jake huffs, putting the cat back on the hood of the car. He turns around to face the direction of the voice. This seems very counterproductive. He's not one to ask questions. Khonshu likes that about him.
The cat meows and hops off the car, running across the street. It waits at the corner and proceeds to howl in Jake's general direction. Jake grumbles, "Whatddoya want?"
"Follow it."
"We take orders from animals now. Charming." Khonshu says nothing in response. Jake cracks his neck, adjusts his hat and follows the cat on foot. The cat takes him down winding streets to an alleyway. A short man with a ridiculous necklace and gravity defying hair is being followed by hooded men. Jake narrows his eyes and slinks into the shadows.
He summons the suit. Unlike Marc, Jake's suit is a more modern interpretation of the ceremonial armor. Less bulky, more functional, lighter. His gut feeling is confirmed as by the time he has the suit, the two men have the guy unconscious and thrown over a shoulder.
As the protector of travelers in the night, it's the duty of Khonshu's avatar to put a stop to things like this. He summons his blades first, going for the one not holding the innocent person as to avoid collateral damage. It's easier to more care into saving the guy without having to defend himself from the buddy. He stabs the goon through the chest from behind and kicks him off the blade. Where there should be blood, instead is sand, blowing away in the wind. A few more solid blows from the blades and sand is all that's left of the man.
Jake looks down at the sand pile, giving it a curious kick with his foot. This distraction makes itself brief as Jake hones in on the sound of the other jerk running away with the victim. Jake turns around, bolting after him in a full on sprint.
The man seems to stir awake and recognize his position, shifting his weight in an attempt to knock his captor over. They both go tumbling to the ground, the cloaked figure on top pinning the innocent to the ground. The smaller man kicks the assailant in the crotch, barely managing to skitter out from under him.
Jake stabs the attacker from behind, missing the stranger by only an inch as the blade protrudes out the man's front. The man turns to a pile of sand with a hardy jiggle of the weapon.
The stranger scootches further away, struggling to find his balance. Feebly attempting to put up a fighting stance against Jake. Like a rag doll learning to walk for the first time, he face plants into the ground.
Meanwhile, the man on the floor has no idea how long it's been. Red eyes open to a face full of concrete. His ears ring to the muffled sound of footsteps drawing nearer. Slowly and with struggle, he lifts his head off the ground to see the white cape and Moon sign on the chest. Moon-Man(?) seems more interested in the sand pile in front of him than… he looks down at himself. Right, he's more interested in the sand piles than he is in Yugi.
"Looks like Seth's handiwork." Is the only hint Khonshu has to offer Jake. Standing tall behind his avatar, the bird crosses his arms.
Jake has no idea who Seth is and has no interest in learning. Keeping track of Egyptian God drama is above his pay grade. On some level, Khonshu likes him better for this. A lack of intelligence is only an issue with Steven because he's a pussy who refuses to hit things. Jake isn't interested in being the bird's favorite. He just knows the bird has a hit list, and he likes hitting things. It's a win-win in the worst way possible.
"Seth?" Jake and Khonshu look to the speaker in silent shock. "Whatever have I done to attract his ire?"
Khonshu looks at the nearest cat. The cat doesn't acknowledge him. Realizing whoever this is can hear him, Khonshu disappears.
"¿Estás bien?" Invokes the same feeling as 'are you okay?'. He doesn't speak the language, yet he comprehends the sentiment.
Red eyes squint at the stranger. Glowing eyes, white robes, moon motif. It feels familiar to the other. Protector of nightbound travelers, master of shadows, man on the moon. It's him. He blinks and allows his vision to fall out of focus. "Khonshu?"
"No." A more accurate response would be 'Not quite'. Jake isn't so wordy.
The man pushes himself up by the knees and teeters over. The hooded man catches him, holding him up gently by the shoulders. His hand eye coordination is as shot as his balance. "Am I drunk?"
"Smells like it." Jake gets a good look at the man's face, only inches away from his own. Red eyes stare into his own. He's stunning. A face gentle yet unwavering in its confidence. Black eyeliner straddles the line between masculine and feminine perfectly. His previously absurd looking hair frames his face just right. "Got a name?"
"Thank you. I don't need one." The last thing he remembers being called is 'the other Yugi' or 'Yami Yugi' on rare occasions. It suits him just fine. He hasn't much use for a name of his own. Though since the man is asking, he supposes he should offer something. "Yami, if you must."
The gloved hand slinks under his arms and supports his back. He buries his nose into the fabric. It reeks of blood and rain. He's not sure if it's his inebriated state or a genuine trust, but the utilitarian embrace feels safe to Yami.
"I'm Jake Lockley." His suit disappears, leaving only the man underneath. He's lightly tanned with a nose that looks to have been broken and healed several times over. His eyes look tired and his brown curls stick out the bottom of his hat. The way he holds his face is best described as angry. Yami can tell his face merely rests in that position. His voice makes that much clear.
Jake helps Yami up, allowing him to lean on his body for support as they stand.
"Need a ride home?" Jake doesn't normally drive people for free. He's willing to make an exception for Yami. It's silly but Jake hopes Yami will offer an… alternative form of payment. He won't pressure him, but a boy can dream. It's hard not to with Yami looking up at him like that, his cheeks drunkenly flushed.
"Thank you." Yami isn't sure what to say. He doesn't know where he is. Much less where Yugi is supposed to be living at the moment. That, on top of Yugi apparently being a target for kidnapping, makes the prospect of sleeping alone less than ideal. "I'm not sure."
"¿Que?" That sounds like a 'what?' to Yami. His dedication to purging away the evils of the night he's seen so far is fascinating. Admirable even.
"People have been following me all day. " Yami can only guess this is the case. While Jake isn't Khonshu, he does at the very least seem to be a follower of Khonshu. Yami hopes that by appealing to Khonshu with concerns for his safety, he can get a place to stay for the night without having to figure out where he's actually supposed to be on such short notice. He's not scared. He has no reason to be. As the shadow of the millennium puzzle, Yami doesn't seem to experience fear. Instead, he has a concern for Yugi and his friends. "I'd prefer to stay in your protection for the night."
Jake smiles dumbly. His head is in all the wrong places. "You can stay with me."
Yami raises an eyebrow at Jake's eager response. He's too excited at the prospect of having a stranger in his home. It reminds him of the way Anzu used to look at him. A mature curiosity Yami never knew what to do with. He could tell his confidence caught her eye. Until now, Yami has never had to consider what Jake seems to be after. Both Anzu and Yugi were too young to entertain in that way at the time. Now that Yugi is older… no. As much as Yami wants to explore, it's still not right.
Jake leads Yami to the tacky white limo. Nobody worth their salt hires a white limo. Black is the clear superior in both class and visual effect. Jake gets into the front in order to open the side door only for Yami to take the shotgun seat. Yami doesn't know he's done anything weird. He also has no idea what a limo is and honestly mistakes the vehicle for a hearse. Why else would anyone need such a long car if not to haul a casket respectfully?
Jake doesn't comment on it. He enjoys the company. They drive through the darkness; the soft glow of the cityscape's few lit windows reflects against the inky black clouds in the sky. The buildings loom tall and imposing, dark silhouettes turn to beige and white limestone bricks in the headlights. The traffic is light at this hour, so there's little distraction for the two.
The streets are quiet and almost eerily still, except for the occasional distant sound of a car engine or the faint hum of a distant conversation. The sparse street lights cast a dim yellow glow over the empty sidewalks. The shadows of the buildings shift and morph as they pass by, but neither Yami nor Jake feels a sense of unease. They're both comfortable in the shadows.
The car parks two blocks away from a run-down apartment. The one that technically belongs to Steven. Despite having separate lives and identities, they still share an apartment. With rent prices around here, Jake isn't one to question the keys in his pockets that keep a roof over his head. Better than sleeping in the car.
Jake opts to use the freight elevator. The actual elevator is broken and his new friend might have a hard time with stairs. As Jake walks into the apartment, he schucks off his coat and shirt, leaving him in a white wife beater stained in sweat. His chest is broad and hairy, his build is beefy in the most utilitarian way. None of that body builder nonsense. This is all functional muscle. Jake is doing it on purpose, hoping to show off to Yami. Judging by the visible warmth on the man's face, it's working. Jake grins.
The paint on the walls is faded and chipped, and the linoleum floors are scuffed and worn. The furniture is functional but far from luxurious. The windows are large and let in plenty of natural light, casting cool moonlight onto a small kitchen table with a chessboard. Modest and unpretentious, the place has a certain charm.
"You play chess?" Yami's eyes quickly retreat from Jake to the chessboard. He's glued to it like magic, much to the detriment of Jake's self esteem. All this flaunted sex appeal and Yami is most interested in a board game. Jake's chest tightens as Yami excitedly sets up the board with stars in his eyes. He's cute even when he's ruining Jake's plans.
Jake is good at chess. Really good. Right up there with the homeless guy that places bets in the local park. He's not the bookish type and as such, he's frequently underestimated. "You sure about that?"
Yami nods, looking too young to be all that experienced in the game.
"I'll go easy on you." Jake winks. He helps set up the board, putting the white pieces in front of Yami. Yami laughs, shaking his head no. Playfully encouraging Jake to take white and by extension, get the advantage of making the first move. "You know how to play?"
"How old do you think I am?" Yami rests his chin on his hands, propped up by his elbows on the table. He looks Jake in the face with half-lidded eyes. Yami and his coy smile has Jake's stomach tied up in knots.
"Dunno, and I'm not dumb enough to take a guess." Yami laughs at this. Jake is clever in his own way, for sure. He makes the first move, white pawn to E4.
Without even looking at the board, Yami moves his own pawn to E5. His eyes stay on Jake, watching every micro reaction. "What do you say we make this interesting? Each time one of us captures a piece, the other has to answer a question.”
White pawn to F4. Black pawn to D5.
The white pawn at E4 takes the black pawn at D5. Jake gets to ask a question. Jake starts simple, "Where are you from?"
"Egypt." Yami crosses his legs, bobbing his foot absent mindedly. Yami takes the remaining black pawn at the center of the board and uses it to capture the white pawn at F4. "What is your connection to Khonshu?"
"I'm his Avatar." Jake answers simply. Yami isn't familiar with the term.
White knight to F3. Black knight to F6
White bishop to B5. Black pawn to C6.
Jake moves his white pawn to C6 taking a black pawn. "What's with the uh-" Jake gestures to the millennium puzzle. "Thing."
"I've had it for as long as I can remember. It's a part of me." Yami answers. It's entirely literal, but is all too easy to read poetically. Yami moves his knight to C6, capturing another white pawn. "What do you do as Avatar?"
"Eh, errands and odd jobs. Lotsa fighting." Jake bites his lip, focusing intently on the game at hand. Any brief glance at Yami shows his opponent oozing with such confidence that Yami never bothers to look at the board. His eyes are glued to Jake.
"Ah. You're his pawn."
"Knight." Avatars, while not irreplaceable, are definitely too valuable to be compared to pawns.
"Mr. Moon Knight." Yami teases.
Jake castles leaving his king in G1 and his rook in F1. He's a formidable opponent but no match for a drunk Yami who isnt even taking the game seriously. Yami never has to think about his moves. He instead gets to watch Jake squirm and struggle to play each move.
Yami moves the black queen to B6. "Check."
Jake flicks over his king piece despite not being a checkmate. He's in over his head and he knows it. Any attempts to avoid capture would only prolong the inevitable. "You win."
"Wha? Giving up so soon?" Yami pouts.
"I've got a different game in mind." Jake stands up from the table.
Yami perks up, "What kind of game?"
Jake opens the door to the bedroom, looking over his shoulder at Yami. He grins mischievously, waggling his eyebrows.
"That's not a game."
"Game or not, I'd still like to play." Yamis heart skips a beat. He follows Jake, getting roped up into his arms. Jake runs his hand up Yamis’ sides. He takes off the puzzle, gently tossing it onto the bed. Yami can't help but lean on Jake, keeping them chest to chest. Yami's composure stays strong, but his heart rate and cheeks betray him. He bites his lip.
"Todavía te protegeré" Yami doesn't understand the words yet he feels them. Jake is promising he will still protect him. Jake moves in for a kiss, stopping part way giving Yami the choice to close the gap or turn away. Jake goes on to softly reassure that he doesn't have to, calling Yami a sweet pet name. "No tienes que hacerlo, cariño."
He shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't, but the alcohol has his inhibitions weak. Yami closes the gap. Their lips meet slowly and carefully. They warm up quickly, the spark between the two is instant. Yami wraps his arm around Jake's neck and Jake lifts Yami up with ease. Jake pins Yami to the bed, sticking his hands under his tank top and kissing his neck.
It feels so good. Yami can't help but arch his back and gasp for breath. They both drown themselves in desparation.
Jake puts his knee between Yamis legs and Yami pulls away from the needy kisses, gasping, "Jake, I can't."
Jake backs off immediately, giving Yami space. Yami does not recall ever feeling this human. Never has the spirit felt so raw and vulnerable, overcome with this selfish, greedy sense of yearning.
"I want to so badly but I can't." Yami's eyes grow cold. He mentally distances himself. "I don't mean to tease."
"Hm?" Jake is confused.
Yami gives him one last kiss before turning away. "This body isn't mine to give."
Jake doesn't understand, but knows better than to push it. He tucks himself under the covers. In his efforts to throw the blanket over Yami as well, he puts an arm over him. He leaves it there, slipping his other arm under Yami, acting as the big spoon. Yami leans into it, quickly drifting off to sleep. Jake tries to stay awake himself for fear of losing control, but alas, the human body has its limits.
Cold air blows in through the open window. The darkness looms in the corner of Yugi's mind, waking him up in a cold sweat. A large skeletal bird crouches down at the edge of the bed, its loose linen wrapping blowing in the wind. It stares him in the face, pale as the moon.Yugi blinks his purple eyes but the image in front of him makes no more sense than it did before.
"Seirei?" Yugi attempts to address the figure, calling it a word that translates to spirit explicitly in the supernatural sense.
The bird speaks. "You can see me?"
"Mhm." Clearly Yugi can hear Khonshu aswell. Though he doesn't seem to recognize the bird. Hearing the bird respond in English, Yugi struggles to get his brain forming sentances in that language. "What uh- what are you doing here? Do you have a name?"
"Khonshu. God of the moon, protector of travelers of the night." He takes note of the man's change in eye color. Khonshu tilts his head. The little one doesn't seem to realize what he is or what any of this means. "Am I the first god you've met?"
"I think so." Yugi is so soft-spoken. It's almost hard to hear.
"You don't know what you are, do you?"
"Human I hope." Yugi jokes.
Khonshu groans. "Pharaoh."
"Atem has passed on, sorry." Yugi sits up instinctively, putting the millennium puzzle around his neck.
"I'm not talking about him." Khonshu gently boops Yugi on the head. "I'm talking about you, fool."
"There must be a mistake-" it's at this point the stranger in his bed shifts, stirring awake. Yugi notices him and screams as he realizes he's sleeping with a stranger wrapped around him. He leaps out of bed and looks from the stranger back to Khonshu only to find Khonshu is gone. "Khonshu?"
No response. The stranger does however, throw a punch at Yugi. "Oh no you don't. We are not working for that old bird again." The man's voice hisses.
Yugi faints just before Marc's knuckles make impact with his face. His world is filled by a pleasant darkness. Warm, safe and whole. In Yugi's fainting, he dodges the punch, snapping back up right and catching himself, convulsing in a way that is inhuman.
"We?" Yami dodges every swing Marc takes at him with ease. His voice is calm, cool and playful. "Not working for Khonshu? You're not Jake, are you?"
"What?" Marc's eyes go wide and Yami lands a swift kick to Marc's face in his moment of shock. Despite Marc's larger size comparatively, he is knocked to the ground. His head hits the floor and his ears ring.
By the time he sits up, Yami is gone. All that's left is the curtains, gently blowing in the open window.
"Jake…" Marc has had his suspicions about a third alter. Short spaces of extreme violence in time that neither Marc nor Steven remember in a fight. This is the first solid confirmation he has to the thirds existence. It sinks in his throat, dry, coarse and heavy. Like someone replaced his cereal with a spoonful of gravel. He was so concerned about Layla he didn't think to consider Khonshu might've had more than just him and Steven as alters. "Oh no-"
Marc runs to the bathroom shouting into the mirror. "Steven!"
"Wot?" The reflection rubs its eyes.
"We're not alone."
"Yeah dumbnuts, I got you in my head-"
"I thought it was just the two of us. I was wrong." Marc white knuckles his grip on the sink.
"What in the bloody hell are you on about?"
"He did not spare Layla out of the kindness of his shriveled, dead heart." This is bad. This is very, very bad.
"No."
"He made an avatar out of another alter. He never let us go, Steven."
"You've gone mad!"
"Obviously, that's why there's a Jake running around doing Konshus bidding!" As Marc speaks this time he is the reflection.
Steven yawns. "Yeah, well set up a ouija board and invite him for a cup of tea in the morning." He brushes his teeth.
"Steven!"
Steven spits the foam out of his mouth. "It's three in the morning for cryin’ out loud!"
"This is serious." Marc pleads his case to deaf ears.
"Yea, I'm seriously taking the body back to bed," Steven sighs. "Goodnight Marc."