07-15-2018, 06:53 PM
As short-tempered as Beck used to be before the vengeful flame in his chest was snuffed out, the commander forced himself to remain patient with his peers -- for the most part. Most were irritating, if not exasperating; usually he was the one considered a pest, not vice versa. One of the most infuriating creatures had been dubbed Killian, and the fellow demon had stepped too far. Calling him slang for emotional wreck was the match dropped on a gasoline puddle, and, unfortunately for Killian, spirits were infamous for holding grudges, and even more so for not resting until they carried out their revenge.
He wasn't one for nostalgia thanks to a corroding memory, but returning to his prankster ways felt good. He hadn't pranked someone in a long while, fearful of setting his traps and tricks on the clan he was supposed to keep in his lonesome company. But Killian had made himself a target, and Beck couldn't refuse an opportunity. A mischievous glint to his glowering visage that had been missing for too long, the commander planned out his petty vengeance with extreme care. He waited for twilight to fall and shroud his actions, easily slipping into the crooked house the irksome demon had claimed for himself when he could hear a slowing heartbeat and steady snoring. His weapon of choice was a vibrant little box containing a bottle of neon pink hair dye and the needed tools. Always a creature of efficiency, Beck promptly set to work, squeezing out paint onto Killian's sleeping form and sloppily coating his thin pelt with eyesore pink coloring -- there were instructions on the box, luckily, yet the illiterate commander could only act based off of the additional process pictures. After making sure the dye had dried properly, he gathered the supplies and crept away to wait for morning.
When the sun peeked its head over the horizon, the scrawny feline was already perched in a nearby tree, impatiently watching Killian's door for any sign of stirring or reaction. Stifling his rasping giggles with a paw clasped over his disfigured snout, Beck glanced around to check for any possible witnesses, as well. So far, only a handful of rogues had shaken away sleep and were seeking out something for their breakfasts. An unwitting audience, he supposed. Despite his attempts to remain focus, the poltergeist eventually found himself restlessly fiddling and peeling away the bark of the branch he waited on. How long would Killian sleep in?
[member=515]▷killian◁[/member]
[align=center]»――➤He wasn't one for nostalgia thanks to a corroding memory, but returning to his prankster ways felt good. He hadn't pranked someone in a long while, fearful of setting his traps and tricks on the clan he was supposed to keep in his lonesome company. But Killian had made himself a target, and Beck couldn't refuse an opportunity. A mischievous glint to his glowering visage that had been missing for too long, the commander planned out his petty vengeance with extreme care. He waited for twilight to fall and shroud his actions, easily slipping into the crooked house the irksome demon had claimed for himself when he could hear a slowing heartbeat and steady snoring. His weapon of choice was a vibrant little box containing a bottle of neon pink hair dye and the needed tools. Always a creature of efficiency, Beck promptly set to work, squeezing out paint onto Killian's sleeping form and sloppily coating his thin pelt with eyesore pink coloring -- there were instructions on the box, luckily, yet the illiterate commander could only act based off of the additional process pictures. After making sure the dye had dried properly, he gathered the supplies and crept away to wait for morning.
When the sun peeked its head over the horizon, the scrawny feline was already perched in a nearby tree, impatiently watching Killian's door for any sign of stirring or reaction. Stifling his rasping giggles with a paw clasped over his disfigured snout, Beck glanced around to check for any possible witnesses, as well. So far, only a handful of rogues had shaken away sleep and were seeking out something for their breakfasts. An unwitting audience, he supposed. Despite his attempts to remain focus, the poltergeist eventually found himself restlessly fiddling and peeling away the bark of the branch he waited on. How long would Killian sleep in?
[member=515]▷killian◁[/member]
