[Looks can be deceiving indeed. Marik would never once suspect that of Ryou. Just like everyone else, he figures the boy is shy, unassuming, and incapable.

Which is entirely foolish considering he can handle the Spirit of the Ring.

Another thing that's foolish is how he manages to relax a bit when Ryou gives his answer. Marik blinks, surprised by it - in a good way.]

... Alright. I can respect that. If you... think you can handle it.

[Marik doesn't fully believe he can but credit where credit's due.

... Aaand there he goes, being a clumsy oaf and the blonde has half a mind to bash him in the head before he dives after the pokeball, giving himself a good amount of cement scrapings as he almost slides against it.

He curses in Arabic. Like, a lot. Particularly foul words he's never uttered in Japanese/English. But he's caught the ball. He rolls on to his back, teeth gritted, and his anger through the roof.]

/You fucking idiot!/

[A language he can speak, Marik. No point insulting him if he doesn't know it.]

... Stupid! You've got to be more careful with your damned Pokémon! Their lives should be more important than your own! Shit...

[Gods, that smarts. He hasn't been this cut up since before he arrived here.]