Plonk

The Gorgon Eye hits the wall, it's purple tentacles wrapped tight against its body as the force of the collision shudders through its form. At the site of impact, the bottom tentacles loosen. Energy absorbed within their coils redirects as they spring off the plaster.

The plaster that had been touching its body shatters behind the Eye. Shards chase after it, just barely ahead of the clawed hand that had torn into the wall milliseconds after the small creature had sprung away.

The Eye bounces off the floor. Spinning through the air, its tentacles once again loosen; however, instead of releasing a burst of energy to move, they uncover the Eye itself. The yellow iris stares back at the foe that sprints towards it.

The iris glows and the light flies from it, warping over the foe. A human or lesser monster would have been frozen by the wave of stone that washes over their skin.

The mammoth monster shudders, slows before bursting through. The gold waves fly off, lashing against the wall where they spark out uselessly against what is not living flesh.

The force of the failed spell has caused the Eye to fly far enough back. The clawed hand of its opponent misses it by inches as he stumbles from the backlash of resisting the curse.

The foe looks to be a man with burnt orange hair coating his scalp and sharp grey eyes staring right at the Eye. The shape of his body appears human beneath a blue uniform that has two columns of thick silver buttons running down his chest and torso. Past the end of the uniform's arm extends a hand, fingers clawed at the tip and thin orange hair coating the back of it.

Despite Roku's limited exposure to humans, he doubts that their hands are supposed to appear like that.

The Eye bounces and the not-man lunges with claws extended. The tips of them almost scratch Roku's sides until his tentacles lash out and wrap around the opponent's wrist. With a jerk, the eyeball slingshots himself away and down the empty hall to the side before the monster can skid to a stop.

Master said that he was only supposed to survey the enemy's territory. To study the defenses that guard this small fortress so that Master would have an easier time taking the treasure that they sought. Even now while he's being chased, Roku takes note of the vibrant runes of energy engraved into the surface of the walls. A mortal wouldn't be able to see them, not even for a moment, but the Eye takes them in as they flicker in and out of his perception.

The not-man charges forward, once again reaching for Roku. The shadows of his claws encase the Eye before—Two tentacles above the eye lash out. Retractable, curved blades slide out of the purple flesh and dig deep into the meat of the monster's palm.

The not-man snarls, jerking his hand back as Roku uses the motion to throw himself past the not-man's side and back towards the halls that lead to the main exhibits.

The monster whirls around faster than Roku can avoid. The claws that seek to crush him finally to be triumphant in their goal.

A hand, hairless and pale, snatches ahold of the Eye. As slender fingers close around him, Roku glimpses the runes in the walls dimming as the Shadows thicken.

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His daughter is here today.

Gerald Morioko remains motionless. The tumultuous roar of his heart separated from the stony expression he holds in place. His clawed hand is still extended, still reaching for the miniscule intruder he had sensed attempting to sneak past his office door only minutes ago.

The...entity straightens itself and steps back. The purple creature is hidden completely by its closed fist.

The purple creature is meaningless, a nuisance that could be squashed in an instance. The true threat stares at him with amber eyes that hold no traces of the green they often wear.

Gerald might be able to crush its throat if he moves fast enough, yet the shadows in the hall darken while the ceiling lights dim.

Sasha is here. He allowed her to skip school to explore the ancient wonders that she loves and now she is only a few walls away from...What appears to be a boy, no older than fifteen. Even beneath his tan overcoat, his limbs are slender enough to snap with no effort. The pale, soft skin thin enough to tear through until blood brings it color. Gerald would be quick. Dr. Bakura's son would feel no pain as he is released from the darkness that possesses him.

The Shadows in the hall seep warmth into the soles of Gerald's shoes as the breeze from the ceiling vent chills his face. Under the thick blue fabric of his uniform, sweat beads and then soaks into the cloth.

Bakura's son smiles. His expression is as soft as snow while his eyes glitter with cold amusement.

"So, you're the new guard dog." His voice is light and gentle as he speaks of Gerald's predecessor who only exists in a few pieces buried in one of Domino's graveyards.

"You're trespassing." Do not respond with anything but facts. Leave no openings for the Shadows that linger along the walls and underfoot. "This part of the museum is for staff only."

The smile vanishes. Bakura's son glances at the darkness that recedes a little bit back. The false softness of the boy's features almost completely bleeds away.

There are rules that must always be remembered. One, the Shadows can only strike out at challenges and slights. A simple guard respectfully performing his duties does not count as either.

The heartbeat within Gerald's chest slows down and steadies as those amber eyes glare back at him. The boy frowns before his expression slips into neutrality.

"My apologizes. I didn't mean to intrude." The light tone remains present as Bakura's son steps back to a socially acceptable distance that is unfortunately out of reach of the quickest of Gerald's strikes. The runes engraved in the walls brighten at the almost lie and do not dim when the entity casts a look of surprise their way. The black Shadows along the wall curl around a few of the sigils before pulling back as if burnt.

Gerald tenses his legs while holding himself loose enough to be able to lunge in any direction. That statement might be technically correct; however, sending one's minion to do the intruding certainly bends its truth to the point of agitating the runes.

"Well now," And then the light tone is gone under the rasp of dark energy that harshens the voice. "your defenses are a bit touchy, aren't they?"

The air above the runes warps with heat. If they go off, Gerald may be able to leap out of the way of the bulk of the released energy if needed. The boy, however...No, it cannot come to that. If a user of the Shadows is threatened with real harm, then the other rules, the ones that Gerald cannot talk his way out of, come into play.

"If you please," says the respectful guard as he straightens, forcing his clawed hand behind his back and out of view. "let me escort you back to the public's section."

The entity before him stares. The Shadows around them shift as if coiling to strike out, but then they lighten back into normalcy. The entity blinks once, and green eyes now look at Gerald.

"If you would be so kind." Says the light tone. All hints of inhumanity buried under the façade of Bakura's son.

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There once was a little boy who had a very foolish father. A man who sought out ancient secrets and mysteries with the same endless obsession that others sought gold and glittering treasures. One day, he dug deep into old ruins, so deep that no lantern light could illuminate what had been hidden from the Sun for millennia. Blinded by the darkness, the man retraced his steps back onto the surface, forgetting the old ways of ensuring that what was once buried never follows a fool back home to those he cannot keep safe.