03-18-2018, 08:35 PM
Gross. Just gross. If having to force a scarred grin at new clanmates wasn't bad enough, now he was being invited to a dumb meeting to ramble about politics. He didn't even know what a politic was! Even with all his aimless observing, the poltergeist couldn't figure out why exactly it was so important, no matter how many times he tried to wrap his brain around the subject. Strangers were immediate enemies, unworthy of any trust and only using you to achieve their own goals. Then again, he was a sycophantic stranger as well in their eyes. And quite possibly feared. Creatures were always terrified of the unknown and their own demises, and looking a phantom dead in the dulled eyes was confirmation of their worst nightmares: that there was nothing in the end. Beck agreed on some level, although he would much rather be spending his punished afterlife alone and undisturbed than trudging through a rotting swamp for an impromptu meeting. He could continue complaining and whining for eternity, and had already done so for centuries, yet one little gathering couldn't be that terrible, could it?
He was proven wrong as he was greeted with water. An unbroken expanse of water itching to reach out, wring him by the neck, and drown him. It didn't matter there was a convenient strip of land serving as a pathway; what if a wave suddenly crashed over him and swept him away? Hysteria had well overtaken his mind by the time an impatient creature nearby had to carry him by the scruff across the narrow land bridge, and Beck protested, writhed, and wheezed the entire way. After being dropped unceremoniously on the shore and with a significant panic still glinting in his eyes, he was directed to the supposed lighthouse. Climbing steps wasn't his forte, especially when they were designed for longer legs and stronger forms. His solution was a simple one when considering his existence trapped in limbo -- the mangy apparition was keen to erase itself from the physical plane, allowing him free access to anywhere he pleased. He could have nosed around within territory, and likely would have if it weren't for the intimidating ocean around him, and the fact that he just wanted to get this over with and off the island as quickly as possible.
"Ya might wanna slow down there, oinker, don't wanna choke on a fishbone," his shrill voice hissed from the dim corner of the room, announcing his chilled presence just as his apparition distorted back into view. Whoever this Pinch guy thought he was, wasn't that impressive. Kind of shrewd-looking in Beck's blurred eyes, too. As if an ethereal being called down from the pearly gates and appointed him the king of everything. Slumping his bristling back against the pristine wall, his grimy and mud-caked fur a stark contrast to the lighthouse's fancy decor, Beck folded shackled wrists over a shallow chest, scowling darkly at the array of refreshments he wouldn't be able to partake in. Were they teasing him? Casting lantern-like eyes that matched the glow illuminating the table, the commander's disfigured snout split into a false smirk, venomous words demanding to know, "So why was I -- were we invited to this loser island again? Ya wanted to play 'Pirates' and make someone walk a plank?" Already, Beck disliked Pincher and his self-important mannerisms, and not just because he reeked of saltwater and dead fish. Politeness didn't matter either. As if he would make an alliance with this place; he suspected that allies would be parasites, unless they had something useful in exchange. Of course, no one expected needed supplies from a poisoned swamp, now did they?
[align=center]»――▸He was proven wrong as he was greeted with water. An unbroken expanse of water itching to reach out, wring him by the neck, and drown him. It didn't matter there was a convenient strip of land serving as a pathway; what if a wave suddenly crashed over him and swept him away? Hysteria had well overtaken his mind by the time an impatient creature nearby had to carry him by the scruff across the narrow land bridge, and Beck protested, writhed, and wheezed the entire way. After being dropped unceremoniously on the shore and with a significant panic still glinting in his eyes, he was directed to the supposed lighthouse. Climbing steps wasn't his forte, especially when they were designed for longer legs and stronger forms. His solution was a simple one when considering his existence trapped in limbo -- the mangy apparition was keen to erase itself from the physical plane, allowing him free access to anywhere he pleased. He could have nosed around within territory, and likely would have if it weren't for the intimidating ocean around him, and the fact that he just wanted to get this over with and off the island as quickly as possible.
"Ya might wanna slow down there, oinker, don't wanna choke on a fishbone," his shrill voice hissed from the dim corner of the room, announcing his chilled presence just as his apparition distorted back into view. Whoever this Pinch guy thought he was, wasn't that impressive. Kind of shrewd-looking in Beck's blurred eyes, too. As if an ethereal being called down from the pearly gates and appointed him the king of everything. Slumping his bristling back against the pristine wall, his grimy and mud-caked fur a stark contrast to the lighthouse's fancy decor, Beck folded shackled wrists over a shallow chest, scowling darkly at the array of refreshments he wouldn't be able to partake in. Were they teasing him? Casting lantern-like eyes that matched the glow illuminating the table, the commander's disfigured snout split into a false smirk, venomous words demanding to know, "So why was I -- were we invited to this loser island again? Ya wanted to play 'Pirates' and make someone walk a plank?" Already, Beck disliked Pincher and his self-important mannerisms, and not just because he reeked of saltwater and dead fish. Politeness didn't matter either. As if he would make an alliance with this place; he suspected that allies would be parasites, unless they had something useful in exchange. Of course, no one expected needed supplies from a poisoned swamp, now did they?