ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK? / o, sight recovery

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    / retro to capture


    It had been an unusually long time for his apparition to heal, for lack of a better word, itself, something that bothered him to no end. He didn't like being unaware and vulnerable, a thick veil of darkness rendering his vision unusable. He had managed to put himself back together after being impaled right through by an icicle, electrocuted by himself via the conductor of lake water, crushed by a damn space rock even - but he couldn't fix blindness all that easily. The eyes were complex organs, and Beck had been missing both of his. Although he would rather leave the gaping sockets be, Ska'arq had demanded he hide the injury away to be decent in this new clan. Begrudgingly, the poltergeist had tied a roll of cotton gauze around his head like a blindfold, and that was that. For the past two weeks or so, he had idled around with the bandaging wrapped over his eyes, and the only reminder of its presence was the fact that everything he paused to rub at the hollow sockets, he was stopped by the gauze.


    But all night and now all morning, the bandages had itched and burned to the point of where even his numbed sense of actual pain couldn't handle it. By the time the pain climbed up to its apex, Beck was desperate. Frantically, the poltergeist didn't hesitate to unravel the irritating gauze, in fact, he tore it away with a quick downwards movement of his paw, tossing onto the ground in disgust.


    He wasn't expecting the sun to be so bright. He hadn't even expected a sun at all - just a clear gaze into nothingness. Yet here he was, squinting away from the sunlight, honey-brown eyes intact and present. It would of been a miracle if Beck wasn't known to recover from the most fatal injuries. After a moment of shock that left him gazing directly into the sphere of distant gas and fire, he quickly turned his face to the shadow, blinking away the mesmerizing yet stinging dots people got from staring at a light for too long. For the first time since even before running away from BlizzardClan, he could fully see where he pretended to exist in the world, adjusting optics met with the outstretch of marbled buildings, the faded greens of winter foliage, and a colorful assortment of passerby that didn't give the poltergeist more than a reproachful sideways glance. A corner of his maw tilted into a crooked, wary grin. For the moment, the boy rested there, trying to soak in every sight before him in fear that the darkness would shroud his senses once more as a cruel joke, the ragged scraps of gauze abandoned at his paws.

    huh, i never seen him around; but i have sensed his aroma as i 'plundered' the territory to learn more about this new environment. though i knew where the main sections in the territory were, i often liked to explore for my own interest and find stuff on my own. i decided to come and see who this, uh- anonymous person to me was. with gentle strides, i was soon in vocalization range to interact with the male- though i do hope i would not spoke him; though if i did, the irony would be a fine one. my ears perked upon my cranium as they swiveled faintly as faint noises of the environment around me and the male. "hey. you having a view there?" i would respond, trying to make my venomous cold vocals to appear more warming that i meant no harm- even though i looked like i could easily murder someone on the spot.


    Eden didn't spend much time around Beck- no insult to the ghost, of course, but Eden, and ghosts, and seeing weird things that people told her she wasn't supposed to see? They kind of went hand in hand. Plus, it didn't help that up until recently, she had been stuck in BloodClan, burning her paws and numbing them with the irritating sand. In that manner alone, Eden could understand the desperation of just tearing the bandages right off. The bandages that adorned her own paws were nothing but a constant flow of senses through her pawpads, shifting whenever she moved, brushing against the burns and her sensitive feet. It was hard to ignore, but she tried.


    "'Ister Beck, are your eyes all better?" the young Princess would softly question as she gave a flap of her wings before landing nearby the ghost, standing back perhaps a touch nervously. He... was a ghost, right? His aura made her think so, but he still seemed normal, and no one was looking at her crazy for seeing him so... maybe he was okay? Maybe he was different? More like... like a spectral, than a ghost? She, may have done a bit of reading, but she only knew a little bit about Beck, such as the fact that his dragon friend had been leading him around like there was something wrong with him, but he certainly seemed fine now.

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    It was reasonable that Beck wasn't seen around commonly, an elusive creature only daring out into the sunlight and clan's view when the conditions were perfect. Meaning he wasn't going through a state of mania or depression, yet for now, his unpredictable behavior seemed to be balanced on the unstable scale. It did help that Jacob wasn't constantly breathing down everyone's neck, allowing enough space for Beck to worm his way into the public without fear or the husky bursting into waterworks or even fainting for God's sake. As much as he would love to pin a face to each of the many voices and scents he had met, it appeared the first was a stranger in both regards. Now, if he were perhaps a bit more risqué or older, the poltergeist would of rasped something along the lines of "well, I am now that you're here". Yet Beck was incompetent when it came to charming people, and merely mumbled out, "I guess so, but I didn't know how damn bright the sun was." The poltergeist motioned with a dramatic wave to the fiery orb suspended high in the colorless sky. The place Ska'arq had dragged him to was called SunClan after all, but being blind up until recent was his excuse for obliviousness.


    At least there was one person he could vaguely recognize by their youthful vocals - Eden was that princess or whatever they held a raid for, right? Yeah, a raid he politely ignored because what use would a stumbling blind kid bring to the fight? Maybe a waterboy. The last raid he had participated in, the unsuccessful attack on the Exiles had proven to him that he couldn't fight very well without his sight, in fact, he didn't think he had actually landed a blow at all. The embarassing memory almost brought a cold blue flush beneath his freckled cheeks, but Beck remained expressionless as he stared back at Eden, not exactly caring about her wary disposition. He had been expecting people to be afraid of a walking and talking dead kid when he first found himself in a clan, but now it seemed everyone had grown numb to the oddities of the bizarre world. If anything, he should of been concerned over a flying cat with a bunch of useless tails - logic and evolution dictated that whatever hybrid she was shouldn't be able to exist without birds and mammals magically transforming themselves to reproduce. And don't even get him started on multiple tails, which were useless for everthing minus display. "Well, I hope so, being blind sucks." the boy complained in response to her question, ignoring the logical fallacies of both of their existences, slumping over as he studied her image, luminous honeyed gaze lingering longer on her gauze-wrapped paws.

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