01-04-2019, 07:58 PM
In all his years, he never witnessed the aftermath of someone having their soul sucked out of their body... at least literally. He was fairly certain he watched someone have their guts engulfed by a giant vacuum hose once, which was a humorous sight for the demented entity, albeit he hated the soggy whir of organs clogging up the machine's dust bag. This, however, wasn't much so. Where was the pizazz? While glazed eyes didn't catch too many details of the scene, besides the unlucky mutt's collapse and the dragon responsible removing a bottle from around their forepaw, Beck knew enough to assume the worst. So much for taking Audrey III on a serene winter stroll through the marsh.
With aforementioned fly trap's dented pot slung around his neck and the bucket bumping against his shallow chest as he strained to carry Audrey's surprising weight upright, the scrawny cat shouldered aside the brush to confront the reptile. "'Fascinatin','" he mocked in the dragon's robotic tone although with an additional sneering whine, rolling back onto his haunches. Audrey seemed to jerk its head at the sudden drop, sticking a plump tongue out between its rows of hardened spines serving as teeth in disapproval. It was hungry, why wasn't it being fed?
Beck ignored the monstrous plant's impatience, lifting a bandaged paw to pick at his piranha-like teeth with a claw as he mumbled, "It ain't fa-ascinatin', it's called murder -- murder!" A borin' murder at that. A harsh snicker slipped from his mouth. "Ya know, you're gonna need a good reason for this if, if someone else finds o-out," Beck offered a sly smile, followed with him zipping his pale lips and locking his trap shut before flicking the invisible key away. Based on the purple freak's reaction, it was probably an accident anyway. Should medics prevent crime? The poltergeist frowned in thought for a moment, eventually shrugging. There wasn't anything he could do about the lifeless dog now, besides burying them. Hopefully, the dragon could lie better than he processed social cues. Cracking his head to the side, Beck admired the creature of myth from years ago with a skeptical glare, visibly gnawing on his tongue as he scrambled for a name he couldn't quite remember. "Your... your name's Squawk, right?"
[align=center]»――➤With aforementioned fly trap's dented pot slung around his neck and the bucket bumping against his shallow chest as he strained to carry Audrey's surprising weight upright, the scrawny cat shouldered aside the brush to confront the reptile. "'Fascinatin','" he mocked in the dragon's robotic tone although with an additional sneering whine, rolling back onto his haunches. Audrey seemed to jerk its head at the sudden drop, sticking a plump tongue out between its rows of hardened spines serving as teeth in disapproval. It was hungry, why wasn't it being fed?
Beck ignored the monstrous plant's impatience, lifting a bandaged paw to pick at his piranha-like teeth with a claw as he mumbled, "It ain't fa-ascinatin', it's called murder -- murder!" A borin' murder at that. A harsh snicker slipped from his mouth. "Ya know, you're gonna need a good reason for this if, if someone else finds o-out," Beck offered a sly smile, followed with him zipping his pale lips and locking his trap shut before flicking the invisible key away. Based on the purple freak's reaction, it was probably an accident anyway. Should medics prevent crime? The poltergeist frowned in thought for a moment, eventually shrugging. There wasn't anything he could do about the lifeless dog now, besides burying them. Hopefully, the dragon could lie better than he processed social cues. Cracking his head to the side, Beck admired the creature of myth from years ago with a skeptical glare, visibly gnawing on his tongue as he scrambled for a name he couldn't quite remember. "Your... your name's Squawk, right?"