A thin smile curved half-scarred lips at the sight of Selby's children, or at least two-fifths of them. If the impromptu adoption of the twice-orphaned poltergeist held true even after the sawbone and medic conceived a brood, then that would cast him into the family as the elder brother. A scary thought -- he failed a younger brother once before, blood seeping from his hairline as Beck cradled his still body, sobbing among the ashes of a caravan. No, he had failed that brother twice, the blind lashes of his angered tongue slicing through the angel as he declared his illegitimate hatred for Marco, vowing to cut off his wings and strangle him the instant he glimpsed his face afterward.

    Perhaps this would be his second chance, his atonement for upset cruelty.

    The dark-furred feline approached on Alice's call, noticing yet again just how different he appeared when compared to the litter, his freckled fur the color of mud and filth in contrast to the striped orange of day and black of night, parted by scars while theirs were splashed by a milky white. His smile faltered, only a little, at the realization of his grimy repulsiveness. The ugly duckling, the black sheep, the unwanted -- Beck took a steadying breath. He shouldn't be jealous. He should love Selby and Moth's children as if they were his own siblings.

    "Hi, Alice. And Heath," he greeted softly, quickly tacking on, "Cliff," after remembering prior disapproval of nicknames from the kitten. His scrawny frame settled beside them, yet still a respectful distance from their personal bubbles, and copied his sister's position of tucking paws beneath his shallow chest.

      The poltergeist tried to lessen his ghostly chill, tried to seem less... dead. Confusing them so early with the matters of life and death didn't sit right with him, feebly-beating heart sinking at the thought of their eventual innocence wasting away when the cold and cruel and uncaring world reached them. Not if he could prevent it. Nobody deserved to have their childhood ripped away from them, especially in such fashion as his had been. Offering a closed-mouth smile, mindful of his sharkish teeth, he chirped, "How's it going? Like being outside?" His stub of a tail thudded against the earth, hazel eyes briefly flicking to her warped hindleg before he refocused. "Wanna play a game or something? It'll be fun."

He held nothing but quiet kindness and gentleness in his heart in concern for his youngest sibling and only sister. While he could come off as argumentative (and not even for a good purpose, for that matter) he was very placid when placed next to his sister, or his mother even. Perhaps it was because of the instinctive feeling that she was a girl, and not a boy, which caused him to feel this way. But if it was, Ivan was not entirely aware of it, because he was still too young to properly understand the role of gender, though he could certainly perceive it. In his conscious mind, he thought it was because of her handicap. Ivan had one of his own, he had an extra toe on his left paw, but it could hardly be compared to Alice. It wasn't fair and Ivan fumed over the inequity of life constantly, in his young, still-developing mind.

Ivan slunk forward, a thin blob of black streaking across the ground. His green-blue eyes were transfixed on Beck's form especially. The physics of the poltergeist unnerved him, but it wasn't as if the large, strange form of Aurum was anything better. "Oh. You look very different from our mother." He'd have to get used to this strange world with its strange creatures. "Do you know my name?" Ivan ventured, coming to sit next to his siblings. His large ears pricked at the mention of a game, and he found himself glancing at Heathcliff and Alice because they were there first when it was proposed, and he would follow their lead. If it were up to him alone, he would immediately accept.

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