DEVIL IN THE KITCHEN + DISTURBANCE

[toboggan]

The moon was especially bright tonight. Its fluorescence crept through the hollow windows of his stone hut, chasing away the shadows that crept within. The occasional bog noise could be picked up, be it the croak of an exceptionally boisterous frog, or an acute gust of swampy air blowing past - though all was relatively quiet. Perfect sleeping conditions, they were.

One could say that tonight was perhaps even too quiet.

Turbulent snores erupted within the back of the slumbering guardsman’s throat, forcing themselves out in rank-smelling breaths. The cool room was infused with the faint aroma of canned peaches, in addition to the putrid breaths Leroy expelled in his stupor. His eyelids had collapsed hours ago, meaning that the current hour was likely one of the early morning. His conscious sat in a deep state of dormancy.

Click.

A bulb flicked on somewheres within environment, its radiance gingerly invading the relaxing backdrop. A low electronic hum became the latest addition to the list of white noises that made up the setting. Following a time period of a modest amount of seconds, neon lights of red, green, and yellow abruptly bathed the once-torpid hut with their illumination.

Amber hues gradually revealed themselves amidst the whole ordeal, suddenly languishing into a wince whilst the lights first turned on. Once the realization of what was happening hit him with the force of a barreling semi-truck, Leroy’s tired eyes darted open as he quickly sat upwards.

"Fuck."

The commotion’s source was the spectre that made a home out of his jukebox, and any second now, it would-

”♪ WHOA! I FEEL GOOD!”

”Not again.”

At a volume that was amplified louder than usual, the musical piece of hardware spontaneously began playing James Brown’s ‘I Got You’. Last time this had happened, it was early November, just after the ghosts ended their month-long invasion on Tanglewood. The male thought that he’d seen the last of this spirit. Evidently, and unfortunately, that was not the case.

”♩I KNEW THAT I WOULD, NOW.”

Augmenting the present issue to a higher degree, the spectre must have manipulated the machine’s lights, as they were appearing way brighter than they should be.

”This is not good,” he declared, before bolting out the building’s door and chanting, ”It ain’t my fault! It ain’t my fault! It ain’t my fault!”

It was not his fault.

[deimos]

The small hours of the night, or rather, the earliest ones of the morning. She was asleep, not very soundly but asleep. Sam tossed a bit in her sleep, the small ball she had tucked herself into now a mess of fur. It was kind of peaceful looking for Sam in most cases. She was normally pretty loud or angry. Irritating? There wasn't quite a right word for the doe-cat.

However, when something pretty fucking loud reverberated across the fucking land she wasn't too peaceful anymore. Her head rose, bags beneath her eyes already and on her paws within an instant. She stumbled out of her 'front door' which was, by the way, just a blanket tucked into the ceiling boards, looking around the source.

And honestly, it wasn't hard to find.

She had a cigarette on her mouth and lit before anyone could consider, stalking towards Leroy with the look of hell in her eyes. She stopped when she saw the building almost aglow with the light from the jukebox, before looking back towards Leroy. "Not your fault?" She muttered, puffing another cloud of cigarette smoke.

"SPEECH"

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[arrow]

[glow=black,1,400]I GRIEVE IN STEREO, THE STEREO SOUNDS STRANGE ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

"God damn it, Leroy! The hell did you do this time?"

Even though he had assured whoever was listening that it indeed was not his fault, Arrow had no one else to blame for the music that startled her enough to send her ass five feet into the air. It was loud as everloving fuck and was most certainly not expected, but after some time to regain what could be considered her composure, Arrow could say that when it came time for finding the positives of this, it was both hilarious and the music wasn't half bad. Leave it to Leroy to have the finest jams in all the land.

One of her massive ears twitched as if to prove the obvious point that the music was horrendously loud, watching the dog zoom past like he was guilty of some crime. The crime of assault of the ears by means of jukebox was more like it. 

[toboggan]

"I said it ain’t my fault, and I mean it!" a frantic Leroy retorted to the doecat. The voice of another rang quietly in the raucous jukebox’s midst, its words scarcely palpable. Leroy caught the captain’s accusing gaze as she came into view, watching hectically as his superior implicated that he was somehow behind this. To that absurd claim, Leroy riposted, ”The only thing I’m guilty of is not being guilty!”

The wolfhound’s feelings were quite hurt by the ladies’ immediate jump to placing the blame on him. Yeah, this was something he would totally do, and it was his jambox that lived inside of his home, thus their assuming was perfectly justifiable. But still, it hurt.

Leroy’s large rump sat itself atop the moist morning mud, drab furs collecting dirt and grime. His head wearing an expression of unease, which was infested with traces of puzzlement. Thoughts and theories around solving the present dilemma began sprouting within his skull, though the bulk of them ended in a  busted jukebox.

”Think my house is haunted”, he let them know through a half-shouting tone and a somber stare, ”’cause it wasn’t me who did this.”

Amber headlights switched their focus on the individuals to the stone hut. They visualized the poltergeist dancing wildly on the inside of the neon-adorned hardware, fucking up the wires and blowing fuses. They squinted angrily at the fact that there was a mischievous phantom ruining one of Leroy’s most prized possessions.

”Anyone here know how to deal with a ghost like that?”, the unusually-mild guardsman asked asudden, ”’cause I’m outta ideas. And, if we don’t think of something fast, I’m gonna have an angry mob at my doorstep.”

[Crow Roux]

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Initially at the start of the horrendous noise, Crow flinched and felt his ears clench against his head to divert the sound assaulting his senses, and of course he heard it. Crow heard everything, whether he liked it or not, even the sounds that were questionable in existence. In those situations, he chose to ignore them, but this time he was unsurprisingly unable to.

This noise was about as real as could be—as real as he was, as real as the soil beneath his paws and the birds and the wind and the rain—and he desperately wanted it to shut up more so than the clamor in his own head. The feline started from his house, green lanterns squinting as his sore limbs trekked clumsily across the town in the direction of the noise until it became unbearable. There he found Leroy howling in desperation, and an annoyed Arrow and disgruntled Sam at the site attending to the issue. He couldn't stay mad at Leroy.

The guy said it himself: it wasn't his fault, and it never had been, never would be. He could sense it anyway, a presence inside the wolfhound's house that was otherworldly, much like that of Beck, except this one felt unfamiliar. New, different, and somehow more chaotic. It irritated him for some reason. Leroy wasn't crazy, there really was something in that jukebox that was undesired.

"What'd ya do this time, Leroy?" the tabby said stiffling a laugh. "Did ya make another bad ghost joke?"

[beatae]

now that was something worth his time. mikolaj had been up, per his usual biological clock, and had been aimlessly droning through a book he had picked up when the disturbance had blasted through the walls surrounding the house. mikolaj was not far, just down the street, and he could hear the tune loud and clear.

james brown.

he suddenly felt old. would they believe him if he said he was there when it was written and produced? oh the benefits a studio guard dog could bring, especially during those times. all the free-ranged goons he could feast and they kept their music running.

the shepherd dropped his book and left, strolling down the road and eventually stopping outside the door. it sounded like a frat party inside. had he not known better, he would have assumed just as much.

he nosed the door open and went inside, finding everyone clustered around the jukebox. an odd feeling bubbled in his chest at the feel of another dead being. his eyes focused straight through the bright neon lights and toward the ghost that inhabited it. his lip curled in distaste. annoying little creatures they were... absolute nuisances.

"salt." he barked out, his tail lashing behind him as he came closer. dark hued eyes looked to Leroy, urging him to go through his own pantry or wherever he kept foodstuffs for salt.

"SPEECH"

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