02-06-2020, 03:35 AM
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If youthful optimism still lingered in his heart, Beck might have seen the fire burning his houseboat to the ground as a forced rebirth. Like a phoenix, if the poltergeist cared enough to reach into the shallow waters of aged mythology. From the ashes, he could find a new home, maybe even rebuild what once stood in the now charred ring of soil around a remaining hull. He could branch out his web of friends, seeing as currently, the resident sawbone was the lone fly bundled in its silk. He could maybe, just maybe, even start to fit in with the group he founded. Except... reality crashed down just as his house did. Audrey III was gone, his home was gone, and everyone he trusted before was gone, replaced by unknown faces. Beck didn't rise from the scorched earth; he hid his face into the soft striped fur of Selby's chest and sobbed, clinging to the older male like a tick as tears clogged his burnt throat, as he hiccupped and sniffled and mourned.
By the time the boy blinked bleary eyes up at Selby, wiping his nose on the back of his arm while mumbling an apology, there was a dark patch soaking into grey fur. Beck wasn't entirely sure how another one of their idle chats began, yet he relaxed into Selby's hold nonetheless, sighing with exhaustion every now and then. Conversation with Selby never seemed forced. Words weren't even needed to enjoy each other's company after months spent together, both content to simply sit in comfortable silence. When the tabby did speak, his ears always perked to listen, studying his friend with a fond look. So when Selby suggested that the reclusive poltergeist try putting himself out there more, try meeting new people, the little ghost swallowed his hurt and nodded along.
But... how? Was he just supposed to stand around doing nothing for people to come crawling from the woodworks? There was little fun in waiting for something to happen; he was practically begging for boredom to smack him upside the head. This dilemma prompted Beck to ask the sawbone for further instructions, resulting in the impromptu creation of tasks designed specifically for him. In the back of his mind, he could only see the simplistic activities listed off to him as what one might assign a nuisance to do, sending him off so Selby could be rid of his nagging and crying. Even so, Beck didn't have anything but ash and a basement to lose.
Crooked teeth worked at his lower lip as he watched the world laze in the sun, warming itself in the brief light as much as it could. Although Beck couldn't appreciate the otherwise-welcomed heat thanks to centuries of only knowing the cold and cold alone, he had to admit it was a nicer day than most. At least more people would be stirring throughout the decades-old town rather than huddling up inside to avoid catching a cold, meaning his chore would be over sooner. If people actually showed. The boy, oh-so obedient to his friend, was supposed to cheer up someone's day. Given the context that he was nothing more than a walking, occasionally floating entity spawned of negative energy, his task appeared quite daunting. Yet that wouldn't stop Beck. Stubbornness coursed through darkened veins. The poltergeist would impress Selby, as though one accomplishment could serve as retribution for all the stress he put on the sawbone's shoulders.
The quickest way to get someone to smile -- and by extension, cheer up their day -- was with humor. Laughter happened to be an apt replacement for antibiotics and splints, a natural remedy for the blues. At the same time, it was horrendously contagious, taking up a dozen different strains, ranging from polite hisses through teeth to belly-shaking chortles to frilly titters to snorting giggle fits. Beck himself was once infected by the last virus before he no longer had reason to laugh, all unbridled joy beaten from him with every blow, kick, and slap. But he did have centuries to think up some comedic content of his own.
Peeling the skin from his ragged lip in thought, the poltergeist took a steadying breath and wetly coughed, lungs rattling and shoulders shaking. It was one method to catch people's attention. Sucking air in through gritted teeth, he sputtered out, "I, uh... got some jokes if anybody wants to hear them?" As soon as the sentence rolled off his tongue and escaped his mouth, he desperately sought to reclaim it, causing it to lilt like an uncertain question. Shutting his snout instantly, his hazel stare widened into a hidden panic, hoping nobody would take him seriously or notice him at all. The thought of Selby upturning his nose in disappointment kept him rooted visibly in place, however, despite the slight tremor rippling through his apparition for a moment.
By the time the boy blinked bleary eyes up at Selby, wiping his nose on the back of his arm while mumbling an apology, there was a dark patch soaking into grey fur. Beck wasn't entirely sure how another one of their idle chats began, yet he relaxed into Selby's hold nonetheless, sighing with exhaustion every now and then. Conversation with Selby never seemed forced. Words weren't even needed to enjoy each other's company after months spent together, both content to simply sit in comfortable silence. When the tabby did speak, his ears always perked to listen, studying his friend with a fond look. So when Selby suggested that the reclusive poltergeist try putting himself out there more, try meeting new people, the little ghost swallowed his hurt and nodded along.
But... how? Was he just supposed to stand around doing nothing for people to come crawling from the woodworks? There was little fun in waiting for something to happen; he was practically begging for boredom to smack him upside the head. This dilemma prompted Beck to ask the sawbone for further instructions, resulting in the impromptu creation of tasks designed specifically for him. In the back of his mind, he could only see the simplistic activities listed off to him as what one might assign a nuisance to do, sending him off so Selby could be rid of his nagging and crying. Even so, Beck didn't have anything but ash and a basement to lose.
Crooked teeth worked at his lower lip as he watched the world laze in the sun, warming itself in the brief light as much as it could. Although Beck couldn't appreciate the otherwise-welcomed heat thanks to centuries of only knowing the cold and cold alone, he had to admit it was a nicer day than most. At least more people would be stirring throughout the decades-old town rather than huddling up inside to avoid catching a cold, meaning his chore would be over sooner. If people actually showed. The boy, oh-so obedient to his friend, was supposed to cheer up someone's day. Given the context that he was nothing more than a walking, occasionally floating entity spawned of negative energy, his task appeared quite daunting. Yet that wouldn't stop Beck. Stubbornness coursed through darkened veins. The poltergeist would impress Selby, as though one accomplishment could serve as retribution for all the stress he put on the sawbone's shoulders.
The quickest way to get someone to smile -- and by extension, cheer up their day -- was with humor. Laughter happened to be an apt replacement for antibiotics and splints, a natural remedy for the blues. At the same time, it was horrendously contagious, taking up a dozen different strains, ranging from polite hisses through teeth to belly-shaking chortles to frilly titters to snorting giggle fits. Beck himself was once infected by the last virus before he no longer had reason to laugh, all unbridled joy beaten from him with every blow, kick, and slap. But he did have centuries to think up some comedic content of his own.
Peeling the skin from his ragged lip in thought, the poltergeist took a steadying breath and wetly coughed, lungs rattling and shoulders shaking. It was one method to catch people's attention. Sucking air in through gritted teeth, he sputtered out, "I, uh... got some jokes if anybody wants to hear them?" As soon as the sentence rolled off his tongue and escaped his mouth, he desperately sought to reclaim it, causing it to lilt like an uncertain question. Shutting his snout instantly, his hazel stare widened into a hidden panic, hoping nobody would take him seriously or notice him at all. The thought of Selby upturning his nose in disappointment kept him rooted visibly in place, however, despite the slight tremor rippling through his apparition for a moment.
