11-06-2018, 03:21 PM
Questions plagued him for hours after his wandering brought him back to a home erased from his mind. Hours turned to days as he combed through his brain and all four of its lobes, desperate to pin a reason on why everything was so familiar. The scents were what bewildered him the most; while the whiskey-infused hound didn't stir a response from his catalog of memorized identities, the other three caused his nose to twitch and sniff and flare, catching whiffs of people he shouldn't know yet he still dearly missed. A salty breeze, bitter chocolate shavings, and burnt sulfur all fusing together into looming nausea. He hated it. Hated being aware of a gap where missing memories and relationships had been stolen from him yet unable to recall what he forgot in the first place. Pacing in circles alone and brooding over fuzzy glimpses failed to recover anything valuable for decades, why did he believe his tactics would work now?
Need to go back. No, he didn't, he could figure himself out on his own. Ya gotta go back. "Shut up!" the boy hissed through razor-blade teeth, but the time for argument long since passed, his paws dragged by an invisible fishline with hooks sunk in deep to his pads, reeling him back to where the throbbing questions originated. Fatigued from struggling against his counterpart's will -- always did make a good puppet, y'know -- he blankly watched his feet shuffle along on their own, stiff and clumsy similar to a toddler's first steps. At least the other had the manners to collect an ignorant plant in his jaws by the bucket handle before setting on their way. Blurred vision locked on the ground, the entity neglected to notice the passing scenery nor the fleeing prey nor the afternoon sun moving to cower behind the mangrove canopy.
When the haze over his mind freed its hooks as soon as he approached what appeared to be the outskirts of a town, Beck snapped to attention, eyes stretching wide and ears swiveling in a frenzy for nearby threats before sucking in a hollow gasp for air, Audrey's bucket handle hung from his teeth. Lazily smoothing down his grimy chest fur with an equally dirty paw, he propped himself up against the gnarled roots of a willow to double-check all his belongings were with him. After a hasty fish through the convenient pocket stored alongside his recreated guts and assurance that nothing had been lost, he gave a rasping sigh, lowering further into his lean on the tree. Why was he brought back? An answer arrived as a sharp pang through his numbed heart, craving something, something higher than the state he stalled at now. Power. A stand of drool dripped from his scarred maw at the thought, before he licked the toxic spit back into his mouth and regained his bearings. Doubtful he would be allowed to retreat once more, by both the resident swamp-dwellers and himself, Beck clutched the dented bucket Audrey was quickly outgrowing close to his chest in an awkward hug, resting a chin wet with chemicals on the fly trap's head as he waited for the answers to his hundreds of questions come to him on a silver platter. He didn't want to disturb anybody -- abruptly, the poltergeist tipped back his head and crowed to the heavens, "They're here!" before lapsing into a brief spasm of twitching, falling still once the figurative itch was scratched. Not even a minute and he already exposed himself for the crazed fool he truly was. "Fant-tastic..." was all he could mumble, twirling one of Audrey's thorny vines around his paw with a sulk.
[align=center]»――➤Need to go back. No, he didn't, he could figure himself out on his own. Ya gotta go back. "Shut up!" the boy hissed through razor-blade teeth, but the time for argument long since passed, his paws dragged by an invisible fishline with hooks sunk in deep to his pads, reeling him back to where the throbbing questions originated. Fatigued from struggling against his counterpart's will -- always did make a good puppet, y'know -- he blankly watched his feet shuffle along on their own, stiff and clumsy similar to a toddler's first steps. At least the other had the manners to collect an ignorant plant in his jaws by the bucket handle before setting on their way. Blurred vision locked on the ground, the entity neglected to notice the passing scenery nor the fleeing prey nor the afternoon sun moving to cower behind the mangrove canopy.
When the haze over his mind freed its hooks as soon as he approached what appeared to be the outskirts of a town, Beck snapped to attention, eyes stretching wide and ears swiveling in a frenzy for nearby threats before sucking in a hollow gasp for air, Audrey's bucket handle hung from his teeth. Lazily smoothing down his grimy chest fur with an equally dirty paw, he propped himself up against the gnarled roots of a willow to double-check all his belongings were with him. After a hasty fish through the convenient pocket stored alongside his recreated guts and assurance that nothing had been lost, he gave a rasping sigh, lowering further into his lean on the tree. Why was he brought back? An answer arrived as a sharp pang through his numbed heart, craving something, something higher than the state he stalled at now. Power. A stand of drool dripped from his scarred maw at the thought, before he licked the toxic spit back into his mouth and regained his bearings. Doubtful he would be allowed to retreat once more, by both the resident swamp-dwellers and himself, Beck clutched the dented bucket Audrey was quickly outgrowing close to his chest in an awkward hug, resting a chin wet with chemicals on the fly trap's head as he waited for the answers to his hundreds of questions come to him on a silver platter. He didn't want to disturb anybody -- abruptly, the poltergeist tipped back his head and crowed to the heavens, "They're here!" before lapsing into a brief spasm of twitching, falling still once the figurative itch was scratched. Not even a minute and he already exposed himself for the crazed fool he truly was. "Fant-tastic..." was all he could mumble, twirling one of Audrey's thorny vines around his paw with a sulk.