10-17-2018, 03:39 AM
After near months of solitude spent lurking in the darkest, coziest corners of Goldenluxury's hut, the eccentric spirit abandoned on the shore by the tides had become nothing more than a rumor. Besides his only outlet to the islander society via Goldie, Beck hadn't stumbled into the public's eye in what seemed like forever. At first, the isolation an introverted dream brought to reality. He could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted with absolutely no paranoia or insecurities allowed in on his lonely entertainment. However, lazily sprawled in a sloppy nest of blankets and recounting his favorite horror movies frame by frame in his mind quickly grew boring. Even watching the natives and their violent theatrics became dull for the once-eager observer. And during the nigh eternity that his closest friend was missing, Beck paced the silent hut with a restless worry to his limp, dragging the edge of his teeth along the tightly-wound bandages on his arms. There was nothing left to do; he couldn't take another day of waiting around for the world to finally end.
Blinking away the initial shock of afternoon sunlight, the scrawny feline paused his stumble outside to fitfully rub at his adjusting eyes. He never could reconcile with the sun's pervasive light -- the light exposed him, burned him. His mangy flanks feeling almost naked without the security of shade to conceal himself from danger, Beck dragged himself off Goldie's porch only to land with a muted thud upon the sand. Even if she wasn't around the hut at the moment, at least she had been brought home. Not that it was the same... well, memories could be recovered. Maybe replaced if worse came to worst. The boy carelessly dusted off his chest, surely leaving behind grits of sand within his fur. Perhaps he would get a pearl out of his self-neglect. Halting in his crusade against boredom to let out a much-needed twitch of his back leg and a shoulder shrug, Beck finally stepped forth to reintroduce himself to society.
Crooked ankle threatening to buckle like a newborn fawn much to his numbed obliviousness, it took longer than anticipated to reach the bay Goldie had previously informed him about. For a hotspot of socializing, the shoreline sure was empty. A grateful smirk tugged on the corners of his intact lips as a wheezing sigh of relief sounded from him. Crowds were terrible, turning him into an awkward, mumbling wallflower as too many scents and conversations overwhelmed his thoughts. Unable to bite back a lilting chirp on impulse, he wrinkled his nose to brainstorm something amusing to do. His mind failed him as he stared blankly out at the white horizon, electric blue drool on the verge of dripping from his missing cheek before he hastily smeared it away with the back of his paw. Ignoring the oozing chemicals soaking into the fraying gauze protecting from his nasty biting habits, Beck sucked in a gasping breath before hissing through his teeth and setting off to gather the smoothest stones he could find. Skipping stones was always a good time-killer, but he wasn't too sure how they would bounce and sail over sea water, especially with the choppy waves. But it was worth a shot.
Quickly gathering a wobbly pyramid of pebbles and rocks deserving of being cast out into a watery grave, the poltergeist flopped down close to the placid shallows with the first passenger in his shaky grip. Beck reeled back an arm before swinging it forwards to send the stone skidding out over the water's surface, only for his first attempt to fail with a pitiful splash. Despite his ears pinning to his skull, he wouldn't let the mistake darken his chance at entertainment; he was just out of shape, that was all. Snatching up the next and repeating the same action with more care in his throw, the stone only managed a single hop before sinking. Amber eyes narrowed as he reached for another... and soon another... and yet another, all failing to come close to his record of seventeen skips and earning a frustrated scowl from his youthful features. He must have been more out of shape then he thought.
[align=center]»――➤Blinking away the initial shock of afternoon sunlight, the scrawny feline paused his stumble outside to fitfully rub at his adjusting eyes. He never could reconcile with the sun's pervasive light -- the light exposed him, burned him. His mangy flanks feeling almost naked without the security of shade to conceal himself from danger, Beck dragged himself off Goldie's porch only to land with a muted thud upon the sand. Even if she wasn't around the hut at the moment, at least she had been brought home. Not that it was the same... well, memories could be recovered. Maybe replaced if worse came to worst. The boy carelessly dusted off his chest, surely leaving behind grits of sand within his fur. Perhaps he would get a pearl out of his self-neglect. Halting in his crusade against boredom to let out a much-needed twitch of his back leg and a shoulder shrug, Beck finally stepped forth to reintroduce himself to society.
Crooked ankle threatening to buckle like a newborn fawn much to his numbed obliviousness, it took longer than anticipated to reach the bay Goldie had previously informed him about. For a hotspot of socializing, the shoreline sure was empty. A grateful smirk tugged on the corners of his intact lips as a wheezing sigh of relief sounded from him. Crowds were terrible, turning him into an awkward, mumbling wallflower as too many scents and conversations overwhelmed his thoughts. Unable to bite back a lilting chirp on impulse, he wrinkled his nose to brainstorm something amusing to do. His mind failed him as he stared blankly out at the white horizon, electric blue drool on the verge of dripping from his missing cheek before he hastily smeared it away with the back of his paw. Ignoring the oozing chemicals soaking into the fraying gauze protecting from his nasty biting habits, Beck sucked in a gasping breath before hissing through his teeth and setting off to gather the smoothest stones he could find. Skipping stones was always a good time-killer, but he wasn't too sure how they would bounce and sail over sea water, especially with the choppy waves. But it was worth a shot.
Quickly gathering a wobbly pyramid of pebbles and rocks deserving of being cast out into a watery grave, the poltergeist flopped down close to the placid shallows with the first passenger in his shaky grip. Beck reeled back an arm before swinging it forwards to send the stone skidding out over the water's surface, only for his first attempt to fail with a pitiful splash. Despite his ears pinning to his skull, he wouldn't let the mistake darken his chance at entertainment; he was just out of shape, that was all. Snatching up the next and repeating the same action with more care in his throw, the stone only managed a single hop before sinking. Amber eyes narrowed as he reached for another... and soon another... and yet another, all failing to come close to his record of seventeen skips and earning a frustrated scowl from his youthful features. He must have been more out of shape then he thought.