08-01-2018, 09:30 PM
"I wish." Beck's disinterested croak announced his arrival before he materialized into view a couple steps away from the setup. The commander himself wasn't sure where the idea had come from; maybe he had seen it on a sitcom before and therapy magically solved all the actors' problems, or maybe he had spoken out of impulsive need to vent about nothing and everything. A genius concept on paper, until he realized he would have to participate as well. One thing that kept the clan's respect for him was how little they really knew about their ghost of a leader, and Beck hated even thinking of the past. Sooner or later, the boy supposed someone would become too curious, and he would be interrogated until he snapped. Doesn't sound too bad to me, then they'll all see how much of a fraud ya are.
Biting back a hissed response to the venomous voice festering in his mind, the scrawny ghost unceremoniously plopped himself on the muddy picnic blanket a distance away from the two cats, the common scowl darkening his freckled features. An anxious paw idly kneaded at his shallow chest hard enough to leave bruises as a method of distract himself from other stubborn pains -- no one was willing to talk, were they? Beck visibly gritted his teeth, wondering if setting a good example was really worth making himself vulnerable to creatures liable to betray him at anytime. After a pulseless beat, he slumped in defeat and forced himself to mumble, "Guess I'll start or somethin'," Glassy eyes flickered in thought, carefully choosing his words as if Malphas was an enemy dead-set on detecting any weakness that had wormed its way into his speech. "What -- what exactly wouldja say to someone, um, someone who was just... bored... a-and sad and angry all the time? And, and didn't really... wanna trust folks?" the poltergeist finally wheezed, wincing as he realized his mistake and hastily added with a wavering giggle, "Hypo--the--tically speakin', right?"
[align=center]»――➤Biting back a hissed response to the venomous voice festering in his mind, the scrawny ghost unceremoniously plopped himself on the muddy picnic blanket a distance away from the two cats, the common scowl darkening his freckled features. An anxious paw idly kneaded at his shallow chest hard enough to leave bruises as a method of distract himself from other stubborn pains -- no one was willing to talk, were they? Beck visibly gritted his teeth, wondering if setting a good example was really worth making himself vulnerable to creatures liable to betray him at anytime. After a pulseless beat, he slumped in defeat and forced himself to mumble, "Guess I'll start or somethin'," Glassy eyes flickered in thought, carefully choosing his words as if Malphas was an enemy dead-set on detecting any weakness that had wormed its way into his speech. "What -- what exactly wouldja say to someone, um, someone who was just... bored... a-and sad and angry all the time? And, and didn't really... wanna trust folks?" the poltergeist finally wheezed, wincing as he realized his mistake and hastily added with a wavering giggle, "Hypo--the--tically speakin', right?"