//i feel like this is better out of context for those who don’t know ska’arq

If the emotionless reptile could feel hope, it would have been lost long ago. Then again, if he could feel anything at all, this long, drawn out quest would not have started in the first place. Since his sudden reappearance, the dragon had reclaimed the old building he had once resided in. His old belongings were still there. A fine layer of dust coated every surface. With an old rag wrapped around the tip of his tail, most of it had been cleared away, which had earned a loud sneeze and a shake of his head. Notebooks and fresh bedding and things of the like soon occupied the old and somewhat empty space.

The small dragon was currently sitting in the chair at his lone desk, a lamp that occasionally flickered shedding light on the project in his hands. Various crude bottles lined the back of the surface at the wall. Some were broken or cracked, others simply scratched. A small jar held countless tiny shards in it. These were all failures, evidence of his tireless and time-consuming hard work towards his goal. What was his goal, exactly? Could a being such as himself really have wants and desires? Cyan blue eyes narrowed in deep concentration, giving his expression an unusual sense of life that it normally lacked. A magnifying glass on a stand was adjusted to make the view of the bottle in his hands clearer. It was another crude hand-crafted creation. A glance to the left skimmed over notes and diagrams, his own research, before returning to the task in hand. A fine tool etched carefully into the glass’s surface, hands steady and unburdened by anxiety or frustration. For a moment he sat back, holding it closer to the light. Finished.

He briefly stuck his claw inside the lip of the bottle, quickly yanking it back out after the etchings in the glass began to glow and his head felt light. Was this it? Had he done it at last? Ska’arq stuck a cork in the mouth of the bottle and moved out the door with unusual haste. He needed someone to test it. A hunch that these vials would not work on him hung in the back of his mind. He had made it glow, though. He was making progress at last.

Scanning the clearing with empty eyes, he spotted an NPC sleeping at the root of a tree. Good. They could not deny his request if they were not awake to hear it. The dragon moved closer quietly, taking a seat before them. Uncorking the vial, He tenderly lifted up the canine’s paw and stuck his claw inside. The NPC awoke with a full-bodied jerk, and Ska’arq instinctively gripped them so they would not escape. ”Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re-“ Their eyes grew wide and their words cut off. The bottle’s glowing engravings grew brighter, and the NPC seemed locked in place. A fine, foggy and white substance began to stream from their claw and into the container. Ska’arq watched intently, drinking in every detail that unfolded before him.

The stream slowed to a stop with a small drip. As if released from the death grip that covered their whole body, the canine collapsed into a limp heap, eyes still wide and frozen with shock. The glow receded, leaving nothing but the faint light of whatever day within the bottle in his hand. He released their paw, and it fell to the ground. Sticking the cork back in the lid, he swirled it in a circle, eyeing the contents carefully. He would examine it later. Ska’arq waved a hand in front of the NPC’s face. No response. ”Are you alright? he tried instead. Nothing. Two fingers were placed on their neck. He waited ten seconds, twenty. No heartbeat. The NPC was dead. He peered at the bottle again. ”An unexpected result. Fascinating.”

      In all his years, he never witnessed the aftermath of someone having their soul sucked out of their body... at least literally. He was fairly certain he watched someone have their guts engulfed by a giant vacuum hose once, which was a humorous sight for the demented entity, albeit he hated the soggy whir of organs clogging up the machine's dust bag. This, however, wasn't much so. Where was the pizazz? While glazed eyes didn't catch too many details of the scene, besides the unlucky mutt's collapse and the dragon responsible removing a bottle from around their forepaw, Beck knew enough to assume the worst. So much for taking Audrey III on a serene winter stroll through the marsh.

    With aforementioned fly trap's dented pot slung around his neck and the bucket bumping against his shallow chest as he strained to carry Audrey's surprising weight upright, the scrawny cat shouldered aside the brush to confront the reptile. "'Fascinatin','" he mocked in the dragon's robotic tone although with an additional sneering whine, rolling back onto his haunches. Audrey seemed to jerk its head at the sudden drop, sticking a plump tongue out between its rows of hardened spines serving as teeth in disapproval. It was hungry, why wasn't it being fed?

    Beck ignored the monstrous plant's impatience, lifting a bandaged paw to pick at his piranha-like teeth with a claw as he mumbled, "It ain't fa-ascinatin', it's called murder -- murder!" A borin' murder at that. A harsh snicker slipped from his mouth. "Ya know, you're gonna need a good reason for this if, if someone else finds o-out," Beck offered a sly smile, followed with him zipping his pale lips and locking his trap shut before flicking the invisible key away. Based on the purple freak's reaction, it was probably an accident anyway. Should medics prevent crime? The poltergeist frowned in thought for a moment, eventually shrugging. There wasn't anything he could do about the lifeless dog now, besides burying them. Hopefully, the dragon could lie better than he processed social cues. Cracking his head to the side, Beck admired the creature of myth from years ago with a skeptical glare, visibly gnawing on his tongue as he scrambled for a name he couldn't quite remember. "Your... your name's Squawk, right?"

//OOC

Sometimes he pondered how and why members from any given group reacted so quickly to anything that happened within their borders. For as big as their territories were, it was improbable. Was he surprised that a crowd began to grow mere seconds and minutes after confirming the death of the canine before him? No. Well, he was incapable of such a reaction, but that was beside the point.

When the mischievous troublemaker by the name of Beck swaggered over, he was only offered a side glance, still mainly fixated on the vial in his hand. Its glow had faded, leaving the viscous and milky white liquid on its own. Murder. Yes, he supposed dully, it would be called murder. It hadn’t been his intention, of course. An accident of sorts. The reptile paid no heed to the blatant mockery of his words upon the ghost’s arrival. A reason echoed in his mind. Right- murder was greatly frowned upon and punished in the public world. ”It was an accident,” he stated. ”I did not intend for them to lose their life. An unforeseen result.” Thankfully, the zipper-and-key motion Beck had made was not lost on the dense dragon- but it would be pointless if others had seen the accident happen. He blinked in response to the last comment. Squawk? That nickname again. This same boy had called him that before. "It is Ska'arq, not Squawk," he corrected once again.

His suspicions about more witnesses were confirmed when more Tanglers began to appear, bearing various emotions ranging from anger, to disappointment, to confusion. All were common. Nothing new. Ska'arq raised his head, allowing them to all voice their concerns and confusion before he spoke out. Defending himself would be important here, he came to realize. Being kicked out of Tanglewood was not an option at the moment.

An empty stare first moved to the tortoiseshell cat who appeared to be... slow, for lack of better terms. "I did not mean to kill them. An accident." This would be the first time he was in a situation like this. Ska'arq was unsure how to predict the outcome. Should someone with a more aggressive temperament come by... Unfavorable. The dragon turned to the group as a whole. He had committed a wrong. Apologies were a must after someone has done something wrong. "I am sorry. I have done something wrong without intention to. Please forgive me." Cyan flickered down to the corpse beside him. "I did not expect them to die. If I am honest, I am uncertain about the circumstances of their death. It currently eludes me." Which was true- he had no idea what just happened. Did whatever was in the vial connect to it? Well, of course it did. It wasn't just a coincidence that they died after the process. What was the white substance?