With a sudden influx of newcomers stumbling upon their polluted swamp and to hang around for the long haul, or at least he hoped that most of them would stay, Beck decided it was high time he rounded all the rogues up for... what had he called it? A meet and greet, right. "Meet and greet" sounded lame, but he couldn't settle upon anything else to call it. It was self-explanatory, and served its purpose on raising everyone up to a first-name basis. However, it was plainly obvious that their commander wasn't a social butterfly, and he would be a fool if he claimed otherwise. To list off his flaws while orchestrating an idle conversation would be a waste of breath -- but he still wanted to talk to people. Primitive instinct ingrained in his being drove the boy to hunt down anything that breathed purely because he was lonely. After being isolated for centuries, he was desperate. He had taken to brainstorming in the morning fog, the sky bleeding indigo as the sun opted to snooze for a few more hours before rising. Mindlessly doodling in the chilled mud, his thoughts were elsewhere as he could only imagine everything going wrong. What if he slipped up and said something morbid? What if his voice was too annoying? What if they were only tolerating him, and were all individually planning to ditch him the moment they saw the chance? Nevertheless, Beck shoved away his doubts and strive for acceptance by the creatures he was leading, and set out to host the awkward and painful event he promised for people to rub elbows in the most boring manners possible. It reminded him of old women at a tea party nobody wanted to attend, and he swore that if had to listen to another bland conversation about Edna and her dead husband, he would personally exorcise himself. Nothing interesting ever happened in those ancient soap operas unless there a dramatic reveal -- Beck's glare brightened at his idea, lantern-like eyes glinting with a malicious sheen as he set off to prepare in the early hours of dawn.
It took a morning of brainstorming and preparation, but the poltergeist managed to spring an interesting, and hopefully entertaining, twist on the usual greetings and introductions so there could be at least some interaction to look forward to. Besides, who didn't want to know more about your neighbor, specifically the gritty gossip about their darkest secrets? The nosy feline was all for forcing people to expose themselves, and that what he was going to do, of course under the disguise of a regular meet and greet.
The sun had finally shaken itself awake and climbed to its afternoon peak, obliviously boring down on anything not protected by shade. Beck squinted up at the fiery giant, neglecting to shield his vision as he practically challenged the weather to a knife fight in the woods based on his hate-filled scowl alone. While his apparition was perpetually freezing and his replicated nerves failed to acknowledge the sweltering heat of a quickly-approaching summer, that didn't mean the others weren't immune to heat exhaustion and dehydration. They were pathetic. Expressing his anger towards the sky with an irritable huff aimed straight for the high heavens, the scrawny feline limped through the overgrown streets of the town center, pausing when he arrived at a rotting tree stump. With a wiggle and a pitiful hop, Beck clambered onto the makeshift podium with a discarded can in his jaws, circling around before flopping onto his haunches. After twitching his notched ear not once, not twice, but multiple times as if he were trying to swat away his anxiety like a mosquito, the poltergeist gathered his nonexistent breath, and harshly wheezed, "Guess what, y'all, I said I would hold a, uh, meet'n'greet, so get your asses over here." A bandaged paw moved to sorely rub at the burn scar across through his snout, a subtle clink sounding from the unnoticed chain link gained on his shackled wrists.
After a few minutes and once it seemed enough of a crowd had gathered, Beck visibly chewed on his tongue in concentration, finally elaborating on his plan in a shrill rasp. "A'ight, this is just any other ol' boring meet'n'greet, where ya say 'hi' and your name, yadda-yadda-yadda -- 'cept after your introduction I'm gonna get to ask y'all a single question that ya have to honestly answer. And if ya refuse my question, ya have to eat one of my l'il friends here --" A smile filled with razor blades split across his disfigured maw as he glanced towards the littered soup can that he had brought with him. It was grimy, partially-eroded by a river's current, and nothing extraordinary, but when Beck plucked it up with an eager paw and tilted it towards the crowd, anyone would wince at its squirming content: fresh, live worms, all writhing on top each other in a fleshy mass. "But, since I know y'all are wimps and don't wanna eat worms or spill your guts, ya get to ask me a question back. To keep things fair or whatever. Besides, who doesn't wanna know more 'bout yours truly?" he muttered with a lilt of sarcasm towards the end of his broken speech. It was the only thing he wasn't excited about. And considering how deep for personal information he would be digging, he was likely to receive the same prodding inquiries back. Hopefully his clanmates were interesting enough to make up for it. Setting his can of worm friends back at his side, Beck scanned the faces of those present for a minute, then waved a frigid paw towards the creature closest to him. "You can go first, then everyone else goes from there." His stumpy tail gave an impatient wag, before he fell back into silence to make way for the tidal wave of introductions.