"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
11-23-2018, 09:10 PM (This post was last modified: 12-12-2018, 08:58 PM by Beetlejuice.)
Disappearing must've been an inherited trait between Modicum Mortem's children - all of them excelled at it. Without a trace, without even leaving so much as a footprint, the clown's children could vanish. So that is what Beetlejuice had done, for a long while - kept to himself, a wanderer at heart, claimed by no leader or land. He simply existed, nothing more than a spirit haunting the Earth, hardly noticing the way everything changed.
But he's grown tired of existing in the contours of Beqanna. He's grown bored with being another creature of the night, a shadow slinking through the darkness. No - he wanted more. And who better to accomplish this task with, than a dear old friend?
Rumors surfaced as to where Zain had run off to, and Beetlejuice follows. He travels by the skies, to Pangea, the kingdom risen from the sea, with haste and urgency. He's itching to cause more trouble, but most of all, to see what trouble he has missed in his absence.
"Zain," He says boldly upon his approach, a sly smirk stretched across his dark lips. "Long time, no see. You look like shit." He nods up and down to the undead appearance of the stallion's skin, and laughs to himself. Oh, the good times they would have.
BeetleJuice
I'm the Ghost With the Most, Babe.
@[Zain] THIS IS HORRIBLE IM SORRY I JUST WANTED TO GET SOMETHING UP <3
He cannot say he hasn't been busy. That his life has been mundane and his existence unpurposeful. He had accomplished much in a short time. Willing to do whatever it took to rise to the top. Granted the top was far from his reach still, but one step at a time...
His plans had started in Tephra, when he had met a prisoner of his uncles. They were kindred spirits these two. A mind for trouble and heart for darkness. So when given half a chance they fucking dipped and sought something so much greater than any kingdom could provide. The will to do whatever the fuck you wanted.
When his friend of blue and black had vanished, he wasn't sure he could collaborate their ideas alone. This group. This cult. Even now, as the name is branded forever upon his skin. He has never abandoned the idea in hopes that one day they may rise again.
Few had stood idle by his side, @[Rajanish]. That freaky little ghost boy remained loyal to the cause even in fickle times. He had his playthings, tucked away in some cave. The thoughts brought a sinister grin to his partial lips. Pangea was at least good for keeping the goody two shoes at bay. No one wanted a cursed kingdom and that was fine by them. If BJ should ever return, he'd know exactly where to find them...
And find him he does.
The recognizable voice echoes from behind him and he hardly turns. Crimson eyes roll upwards at the colts jests, a chuckle chokes up his throat. "I knew you'd come crawling on back you maggot... And just at the opportune moment nonetheless," his voice is dry as he now turns his whole body. The workings of his exposed joints leave nothing to the imagination. He examines what had been a colt the last time he saw him. The black beast wasn't as putred as he remembered.
Oh how times have changed.
Zain
ReBeL jUsT fOr KiCkS
@[Beetlejuice]
*Be Warned*
Possesses health transference
and may steal your health.
So, the passage of time crept up on them both - they are both much older, more sinister. Zain had decayed (most literally) in his age, but it matters not to Beetlejuice. He looks at the inner-workings of the stallion's bodice, each tendon and bone exposed beneath flaps of dying skin. If it wasn't for his scent set deep into the smaller stag's memory, and the fact that he could spot this fucker within minutes just by his sheer size and presence, he might never had realized it was him.
"Don't get too mouthy there, Bones," The mint and ebony stallion jests, brow raising as he looks up at Zain. "You may not walk out of here." His tone is neither serious nor joking, rather it lays somewhere in between the two. Beetlejuice cares for no one but himself, and despite being smaller than his old friend, he wasn't afraid to fight him (or, leave him to rot on this contaminated land). "Now, now. Care to explain?" He says with a grin, a sense of excitement rumbling in his core.
He was back...and he was ready to raise some hell.
Zain
