A chorus of bickering reminded him why he chose to avoid conversation in the first place. Frigid paws shuffled with an itching urge to just disappear once more and stay hidden for another decade until all the wastes of flesh present died out, but he refrained. He wasn't used to controlling his actions -- it was weird. Was that bad? Notched ear flicking back and forth in a rhythmic tic, anyone with their eyes still lodged in their skull could identify the twitchy anxiety in the strange boy. There was something almost feral in the frantic way he scanned the crowd, or the reflexive curling of bloodless lips as the greasy canine challenged him. He could tolerate the insults, he had his entire childhood, but intimidation was the quickest way to spark instinctive anger in the boy. Not like he was able to express it properly; replicated muscles still tensed as he straightened from his slouch, disfigured maw setting into a clamped line. Luminous eyes studied Belial, a crooked sneer meeting the other's smoke-shrouded grin. "Why? Because there are other groups formin'. Groups that ain't gonna like loners or trespassers or whatever ya wanna call yourself. Groups that are gonna take over the land and leave y'all with no place to live. Groups that'll end up killin' ya just 'cause ya get in the way of their growin'." Beck wasn't oblivious to the actions around him, far from it. He had been witness to many uprising clans over the years, yet failed to last longer than a generation. It was amusing, but it was enough information for him to twist. A pause from his ragged wheezing, and after thoughtfully swiping an electric-blue tongue over exposed teeth, he continued, injecting as much reasoning into his lies as possible. "Instead of lettin' 'em trample all over us, we gotta claim our stake now so that we don't have to be alone. But, 'course, if ya wanna leave and end up dead in a ditch somewhere, be my guest. Nobody's stoppin' ya." His glare flickered with a malicious light, and slouching forward off his self-proclaimed perch, the poltergeist teasingly added with a hoarse whisper, "'Cept ya don't have nowhere to go now, don'tcha?"
It was a simple observation that rung true with most, if not all of the misfits gathered in front of him. Exactly why he targeted them. Uninterested in whatever the canine would spew out at him now, his nasty smirk disappeared as if it had never existed in the first place, and he refocused back on the crowd, bleary vision burning into the cloaked figure speaking. Intentions? He hadn't exactly thought about that... what would keep them here? What would prevent them from abandoning him? "To answer your question, ma'am, my 'intentions' would be to give y'all shelter. No double-crossin' or tricks. It ain't that uncommon to make groups -- strength in numbers, right? And, yeah, I'm gonna lead. I ain't got five-hundred and something-something years of experience for nothin'." Beck reasoned, muddied paw absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with the mask slung around his neck. He hated, hated this. Yet his freckled features remained expressionless despite the seemingly thousands of eyes all staring at him and his ugly mug, a tactic he had long since mastered. Another wildcat's concerns were voiced, in addition to the demanding shouts of a rather fierce girl, something much simpler to answer in theory. His name. An odd twinge of confusion crossed the mangy feline's face, whiskers flinching at the realization that he hadn't spoken his name in centuries. Shrugging away the creeping memories, the poltergeist rasped, unsure of where exactly to look a blind man in the eye, "It's, uh, Beck. Just Beck, I think. But -- But that doesn't matter." Too many names were being thrown around, too many scents gathered in one cramped area, too many smudged faces he couldn't distinguish. A frustrated huff left his scarred maw, and a dagger-like glare was directed towards Venus and her nickname. The boy waited through hopefully the final introduction with an impatient grimace, jaw clicking back and forth in anxiety. He was a fool for not planning more thoroughly, but there would be time for that, if he could retreat into a secluded place for a moment away from these assholes. A minute or so of nothing but silence from his end. Then finally, the entity reared his head and declared, "We outta have regular meetings like this one, maybe weekly, and we -- I mean, I can sort out more stuff there. For now, we should explore more of our territory or whatever, and maybe try to clean this town's mess up. If ya wanna help, go settle yourself into, I dunno, one of the houses around or somethin' and then make yourself useful." It was convenient that he had chosen a vacant town to drag creatures to, and seeing as they needed to sleep and eat and breathe, they needed houses. Houses already built and left for them. Rising to his feet on the statue's ledge, Beck arched his ruffled back in a lazy stretch, burnt snout parting and yawning, "And if ya got any more lame questions, speak now or hold your peace."
[align=center]»――▸It was a simple observation that rung true with most, if not all of the misfits gathered in front of him. Exactly why he targeted them. Uninterested in whatever the canine would spew out at him now, his nasty smirk disappeared as if it had never existed in the first place, and he refocused back on the crowd, bleary vision burning into the cloaked figure speaking. Intentions? He hadn't exactly thought about that... what would keep them here? What would prevent them from abandoning him? "To answer your question, ma'am, my 'intentions' would be to give y'all shelter. No double-crossin' or tricks. It ain't that uncommon to make groups -- strength in numbers, right? And, yeah, I'm gonna lead. I ain't got five-hundred and something-something years of experience for nothin'." Beck reasoned, muddied paw absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with the mask slung around his neck. He hated, hated this. Yet his freckled features remained expressionless despite the seemingly thousands of eyes all staring at him and his ugly mug, a tactic he had long since mastered. Another wildcat's concerns were voiced, in addition to the demanding shouts of a rather fierce girl, something much simpler to answer in theory. His name. An odd twinge of confusion crossed the mangy feline's face, whiskers flinching at the realization that he hadn't spoken his name in centuries. Shrugging away the creeping memories, the poltergeist rasped, unsure of where exactly to look a blind man in the eye, "It's, uh, Beck. Just Beck, I think. But -- But that doesn't matter." Too many names were being thrown around, too many scents gathered in one cramped area, too many smudged faces he couldn't distinguish. A frustrated huff left his scarred maw, and a dagger-like glare was directed towards Venus and her nickname. The boy waited through hopefully the final introduction with an impatient grimace, jaw clicking back and forth in anxiety. He was a fool for not planning more thoroughly, but there would be time for that, if he could retreat into a secluded place for a moment away from these assholes. A minute or so of nothing but silence from his end. Then finally, the entity reared his head and declared, "We outta have regular meetings like this one, maybe weekly, and we -- I mean, I can sort out more stuff there. For now, we should explore more of our territory or whatever, and maybe try to clean this town's mess up. If ya wanna help, go settle yourself into, I dunno, one of the houses around or somethin' and then make yourself useful." It was convenient that he had chosen a vacant town to drag creatures to, and seeing as they needed to sleep and eat and breathe, they needed houses. Houses already built and left for them. Rising to his feet on the statue's ledge, Beck arched his ruffled back in a lazy stretch, burnt snout parting and yawning, "And if ya got any more lame questions, speak now or hold your peace."