"Something in the middle," Bakura answered with traces of uncertainty at the reply before it changes to something more mischievous, and he looked much closer to the age he appeared. "It's not something you want to hear the details of, else your face will get that scrunched look where you try to block out certain things."

It wasn't as though Bakura had planned on dying while in Keeliai but the fact that he'd put the marks on his arm suggested that he considered it a viable enough possibility to make contingency for. Whether his body was cloned, created, or any other combination thereof ultimately didn't bother him as much as it would some people. He hadn't had his own body for centuries -- getting up in arms about where this particular one had come from was beyond trivial to him.

"But ask around of you want, the armor is more pressing to me... that is what I am after."