Funny how oblivious spirits where to the passage of time. If not for patient reminders of the day and age by other creatures, Beck would have disconnected from reality decades ago. Or was it centuries? Either way, according to the early morning chatter, it was a meeting day. Oh right, there was a schedule now. A grumble sounded from within the boy's shallow chest as he finally picked himself up from the earth, having spent most of the day idle and wallowing in boredom. Fortunately since he wasn't carrying a deer's mutated corpse onto the crumpled statue he claimed as his own announcement perch, the boy scrabbled onto the sunwarmed stone quite nimbly, save for his unsteady wobble while settling himself. Plopping on his stomach unceremoniously and stretching out his arms over the ledge, Beck preferred to just laze about instead of shouting at the top of fragile lungs for attention. His inky nose twitched, checking the area for nearby members and their distinct scents he was beginning to memorize. Perhaps more people would actually attend and acknowledge his ramblings if there was a dramatic gap between them. The demonic entity sprawled, not bothering to groom himself into a more presentable state, and hoarsely wheezed into the air with little success, "Well, wouldja look at the time; get over here for a meeting --" His voice broke on the second to last syllable, causing him to snap his maw shut prematurely in embarrassment and causing a painful click of enamel to resonate throughout the area as he chomped down on his tongue. Ignoring the possible tang of his pitiful excuse for blood in his mouth and dribbling from his scarred snout, Beck glanced self-consciously over the approaching figures. He think he would follow the pattern set from his first attempt at a meeting, and once a reasonable crowd was staring at him, his rattling words were forced out of aching lungs and into the air. "Uh, hi. I think I greeted a bunch of ya last time so here we go again; I'd like y'all to welcome into our l'il group Aubrey, Fish -- is that a real name? Whatever... um, Haruto, Circe, Inortis, Luke 'n' Sekai, Catriona, Luminita, Marceline, Zim -- Zimavich, that's a hard name so I'm gonna just call ya Zima or somethin', Morgan... and that's actually it. So greetin's, salutations, all that to ya, and go on and introduce yourselves if ya ain't shy." That was a lot of new faces to pretend to like and new scents to identify; almost too many. He doubted if any of them had actually hung around, but if any of them were still here, maybe they would feel grateful for being noticed.

    Considering the next topic for address, Beck's lazy pout darkened and contorted into a restrained snarl, his mutilated snout crinkling in frustration as he seethed with venom edging his orders, "It ain't a surprise, but one of our members got snatched by the same Typhoon bitch on the border. So, the Typhoon is an enemy now. I want y'all to sabotage them in anyway ya can; capture them, torture them, kill them, poison their land, set fire to their land, steal from them, even just tease or annoy them, just show them a taste of their own medicine. In fact, I encourage it. Brownie points and maybe even a prize are gonna go to whoever brings me the first pirate's head -- and we'll put it on a damn spike. Like in this one movie I saw -- whatever, back on track. We're 'bout to set out on a raid to get our guy back, so if ya ain't comin', I'd suggest ya hop to it real quick." Otherwise their chances of not being torn apart and turned into sharkbait were slim. Eagerly looking forward to that fun experience, Beck slumped further into his lazy position, lantern-like eyes drooping as his nearsighted vision failed to focus on the blurred crowd. Falling into a sleepless trance, he mumbled his next announcements, speech slurring into a harsh string of words that sounded awkward in his native accent. He didn't seem to recognize the shift in accents, dropping his drawl in exchange for foreign and sharp lilting. "That's it for now... I'm -- I want to wait for most of you all to be here before the rest of it, 'cause it's supposed to be important. To make sure you guys all are paying attention or somethin'. But, by the way, we need, like, really need volunteers for the weekly tasks I set up not too long ago. I'll take this week's, but I wanna see more actually participatin', if you get what I mean." The poltergeist's being gave a subtle ripple, his fur briefly bristling with passing static before he blinked out over the crowd, fumbling for his future sentences and piecing words together in advance.

/ tl;dr
welcome to the rad newcomers! [member=319]AUBREY.[/member] [member=323]fish[/member] [member=247]HARUTO.[/member] [member=252]( CIRCE )[/member] [member=228]Inortis[/member] [member=259]luke skywalker[/member] @sekai skywalker. @CATRIONA @LUMINITA! @MARCELINE @ZIMAVICH. @Morgan
the typhoon is officially an enemy & a rescue raid is currently taking place
volunteers for weekly tasks are needed!
more announcements in the second half ;^) which will hopefully be coming soon

    What an audience. Rolling glazed eyes, the poltergeist continued to slump, half-hanging from his perch by now. Whistling puffs of air were forced from his lungs, rattling in the back of his throat as he arranged his thoughts over and over again. "A'ight, whatever, that's fine. I'm fine, we're fine, let's finish this boring shit up." Beck rolled onto his back, grimacing at the forgotten pain of pressure against the ragged wound between shoulder blades. He focused his glare on the murky clouds above, beginning to list off what every one was waiting for. "Like I said last time, there's a rank system; ya can ask me about it later if ya really care. So, guess the folks 'bout to be promoted?" Mostly the few that actually showed up. Hoarse giggles fitfully shook his sprawled apparition at what he considered his failure to keep members under his lousy excuse of a clan, and he finally hissed into the uncaring air, "Congrats to Amunet, Valo-kas, Belladonna, Zimavich, and Morgan, y'all get to be chasers now. Bad-ass name courtesy of your favorite ghost, but not that big of a deal. No responsibilities yet. 'Course there are a few that were close -- namely Fish and Aubrey, even though both are new, and Buggedout, Circe, Happycamper, Luke, and probably a bunch more that disappeared, but I haven't seen any of 'em around after that. There's always next time, maybe."

    His shackled paws lashed up into the sky and waved for a moment, in lazy and quite possibly sarcastic celebration. Scarred arms dropped back down and folded over his upturned chest, and he concluded his brief address with an overdramatic sigh, "To wrap up, I'll be gettin' to those medic auditions or whatever after we have our l'il raid, as well as maybe a meet'n'greet type of deal without the boring introductions and somethin', I'm still workin' on it. Oh, and all the houses around should be totally cleaned out by now so y'all can move in if ya haven't already, and since I can't keep people outta the swamp, that rule is over. Go trample all over territory, I don't care anymore." He should have cared, considering Valo-kas was snapped up by a gator out of the blue, despite having bounced back from their reptilian demise. Clearly, his words couldn't stop people from getting themselves killed, and who was he to complain? Less creatures to watch over. But less in their ranks to defend. Wrinkling his snout and brushing away his dilemma, the boy monotonously continued, "Well, now that I'm done talkin' at ya, everyone can, ya know, announce their own personal things, like, uh, funerals? Woo, fun, right? Feedback, guys, gimme some feedback. Show me any sign that y'all ain't zombies." Ignoring the undead irony of his plead for someone to communicate with his ideas, Beck twisted himself back around to hopelessly stare back at the small crowd, crookedly grinning as if to magically force some motivation into his peers.