Upon noticing the sudden commotion of assignments earlier, the younger Tanglewooder managed to wander over. Like the others, he was assigned a task. Despite his confident demeanor, the kitten was offered a lackluster task (for the better). 'One of those games,' the taskgoer of the week mentioned. Atticus couldn't help but think of what Beck by one of 'those' games. Had the kitten missed something? For being only three months old, he couldn't help but be frustrated. Not everyone could sit down with the kittens of Tanglewood and play 'house' or chip into their child chatter. Something he did had to appeal to all ages.

The only viable option, at least to Atticus, seemed to be a brutish game. The others called it 'truth or dare' and from what he understood, it involved exposing yourself. It seemed mature. Something the 'big guys' would play, right? At least he thought so.

The grey tabby wandered through the doors of The Deathless Hound Tavern with his nose upturned and eyes surveying the area. Eyes turned to stare, but he kept walking along. Eventually Atticus found a suitable table, jumped on it, and perched on the edge. Clearing his throat, the kitten began to speak. "Would anyone dare to join me for a game?" he hinted with a childish snicker. "Let's play some truth or dare."

//After the second post, the third poster can start with asking a question! Dares can be considered some kind of 'weekly task' and can be done in another thread. Just make sure to link here. + weekly task given by Beck

    Given the mindless tedium he often found himself drowning in, a game seemed to be the perfect opportunity for just a little excitement. He doubted much would come of it though, considering the dreary atmosphere of the swamp and the lifeless buzz of near-zombies trudging about. But Atticus appeared to be at least somewhat outgoing. Actually, a lot more outgoing than most of his peers, even his brothers. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as people would say.

    It came as no surprise when the poltergeist arrived, pawsteps silent despite the creaky floorboards. After all, he had been the one to instruct the task. The others might have seen it as rude or ignorant if he didn't attend his own suggestion. And he wanted to support his newfound chance at a little brother in any way he could. Or rather, one of five chances.

    Sighing gently to himself, Beck settled beside Ivan, pressing a cold shoulder against him before offering an affectionate smile downward. Atticus received a similar gesture, his waterlogged chest swelling with a fuzzy warmth. Only then did he realize that the age-old question was directed at him. "O-oh," he stammered, casting a wary glance to Aurum -- he couldn't be vulnerable around the proxy! And who knew what Ivan would think up to pry! Telling any forced truth appeared to be the lesser of two evils. He sucked in a shallow wheeze, shoulders hunching as he exhaled. "Dare." What was the worst Ivan could throw at him?

    Apparently nothing too miserable.

    His face brightened with relief upon hearing the dare. Talk with a foreign accent? Well, that was easy, considering his vague American drawl happened to be a learned dialect. A wry smirk twisted the intact corner of his lips before he slipped into his native tongue, adopting the accent he was raised with. "Mă așteptam la ceva mai greu," he quipped, head tilting as a dark paw tapped on his chin in thought. Remnants of his birth language purposefully lingering as he switched back to English, Beck pointed to the next in line. With words warped from their familiar and lax cadence, the poltergeist prompted, "Truth or dare?"

[size=8pt]truth: if you had to execute someone, how would you do it?
dare: lick a toad's belly