Are there any becile fans in the chat rn. I really want to know what is going on with the becile family but I can't really take another niche info search bc the hyperfix isn't as intense as before .. anyone feel like having compassion and giving me a lil summary
I was requested to make a Becile family tree for use in the SPG Discord. I want to stress that this is a theory, as the public information related to the Beciles has always been limited and some of it is no longer available.
Edit: Buster and Vivian confirmed siblings, via @phopollo (thank you!)
Editedit: So the old SPG Dreamland blog refers to Buster as Ignatius’s grandson. Given that Buster and Vivian are confirmed as siblings and Vivian implies her dad would be disappointed in her working for the Walters (meaning he’s probably not Norman), I’m going to assume this is either 1) a typo and they meant great-grandson, or 2) from an earlier version of canon where Buster was older. It also confirms Ignatius as being 100+ years old.
@ask-the-becile-boys After far too long, I’m finally finished! Scratch needs something sweet. And Skull knows just what to do! Well, actually he doesn’t, but he knows where to start!
Scratch had been spending a lot of time in the kitchen since he had joined their mess of a home. If anyone would dare call it that. Once they had gotten him settled and figured out, Skull sent Riker out to get a blender. Guy had to eat, and he wasn’t going to go far with ramen broth.
He knew the cheapest fruits and vegetables already, which made making sure he had enough, a lot easier. It wasn’t long until his experiments had trickled over to Riker. It was the healthiest he’d ever eaten in the manor. At least until Skull teased him that maybe it would protect him from scurvy. Or maybe, he was just hiding it.
Things were fine for a while, even as Scratch got a little more adventurous with his concoctions. No matter how much he gagged, he’d finish whatever he made. Which sometimes made Skull glad he couldn’t get sick. It wasn’t a problem until Scratch’s sweet tooth took over.
Adding honey to everything seemed fine, and he was happy enough. Though Skull was sure, some of them were more honey than anything else. It was different when he caught Scratch blending up candy. Skull had to rush him to Riker when it gummed up his ventilator, and he couldn’t breathe.
“You can’t be eating like that, Scratch!” Yelled Riker once he was finished cleaning out the last of the gummy candy mix. Scratch had nearly passed out, scared them all. But before Riker could scold him any more, he shrunk back from Skull’s glare.
After a moment, Scratch sat up from the workbench, curling his knees up to his chest with a forlorn look. He tapped his pointer and middle finger to his thumb twice before putting his hands to his chin folding his fingers to his palm twice. ‘No sweets.’
Skull watched him sign and puffed a small cloud of smoke. Gently, he laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”
He couldn’t taste anything, didn’t even like the idea of making food. Not after, before. But Skull felt like he owed Scratch. Without him and the others, he would have been torn apart on that table, or worse. Scratch deserved better.
Desserts weren’t something he had a lot of experience in and less for things that were safe for a liquid diet. Milkshakes were safe. Sweet and smooth, so long as he didn’t add anything to it that might block Scratch’s vent. Something his old cookbooks couldn’t manage.
With an annoyed puff of smoke, he donned his hat and coat to go out for a walk. He needed more options. While he tried not to go often, sometimes the library had its uses.
It was a small run down thing, standing up on will alone. Never enough funding to keep it up, it seemed. And didn’t he know that feeling? Heading inside, he went looking for more recent cookbooks. There had to be something useful in there.
Soon as he stepped in the door, he got strange and uncomfortable looks. Pulling his coat around himself tighter, he pretended he didn’t notice. Just focus on the cookbooks. They had to be nearby, it wasn’t that big of a building.
The longer he was there, the more looks he got. Some people even started covering their faces. It wasn’t his fault he ran on coal! He hated being out in public. No matter where he went, he always got looks for the smoke curling up through his neck.
The longer he went, the more he realized he was going to have to ask for help. Skull didn’t ask for help. Only ever caused him trouble. But he needed to make something sweet for Scratch.
He worried they would be too afraid of him to talk, which of course, meant he pumped more coal smoke into the air. Which made him look even scarier. Stupid coal burning furnace, he thought to himself as he stepped up to the desk.
When the woman looked up at him and shrunk back, he tried not to sigh. More smoke still curled from his neck. “Where are the recipe books?” He muttered, trying not to look threatening.
"I'm sorry, what was that dear?" She asked, trying not to be obvious, that she was covering her face to block out the smoke.
He did sigh then and winced when she fanned the air in front of her. Swallowing thickly Skull's shoulders slumped. “I’m trying to find the recipe books, ma’am. My friend is on a liquid diet, and I want to make him something sweet.”
That made her face soften. "Ah! I see! How sweet of you!" She giggled at her own joke.
Skull tried not to roll his eyes at that and forced a smile.
“Cookbooks are in the corner over there, dear. There’s paper vegetables on the bookcases.” She pointed over his shoulder to the far end of the floor. Tucked off in the corner was a small set of shelves with food all over it.
With a small grunt and a nod, he stepped away and headed off to the little corner of the library. For such a small selection, there were more dessert books than he was expecting. Some of them even seemed almost as old as he was. Those he was afraid to touch, they would probably crumble in his grip.
Most of them were out in a glance, large chunks floating in the ice cream. They didn’t need another incident. When Scratch started to change colour, he had feared the worst. Never again.
The first option was Guinness Stout. Skull frowned. Best hide that from Riker he didn’t need to start pouring booze anywhere else. Let alone with Scratch.
More and more sweet sugary things added to milkshakes, more recipes he wouldn’t use. At least there were options. There was hope yet. Until he found an avocado. Who wanted to have a vegetable milkshake? Well, Scratch did make lots of fruit and vegetable smoothies. That was close. But no good for his hunt for sweet things.
More shakes were just adding more and more bulky chunky things. Skull was losing hope with the books. Ready to snap the book closed and march out empty handed he found one that only had cookies on top of it. Those could be removed, so long as the rest of it held up to snuff.
Cookies and Cream. Seemed easy enough. Grind cookies down into a powder. That seemed safe enough. Maybe not often, but this was a treat after all. Reading it over to make sure Skull understood before he snapped the book closed and put it back on the shelf.
It would do. Pulling the hat low on his brow, Skull headed out to get what he needed. Ice cream, cookies, milk. This would be easy. He just hoped Scratch would like it.
Or he thought it would be easy. The first time he used the blender, he forgot the lid. Cookies went flying across the kitchen, some daring to smack him in the face for spite. “Stupid, fucking blender!” He yelled, picking it up off the counter. Skull had the mind to throw the damned thing across the room. But Scratch needed it, and another blender was too expensive.
Slamming it back down, Skull brushed himself off and got ready to try again. This time he double checked the lid was on tightly. He ran the blender a little longer, just to be safe. He didn’t want to put Scratch at risk.
Next, he fumbled with the ice cream to milk ratio. At first, it hardly poured. Would he even be able to drink that? He added more milk to thin it out. Only then it looked more like flavoured milk. Milkshakes were frustrating! Just when Skull thought he got it right, someone tapped on his shoulder.
Skull jumped and nearly lost the shake he had been pouring. Turning around, he got ready to scold whoever thought it was a good idea to sneak up on him! Only to stop when he saw Scratch there, shrunk back and looking worried.
Scratch pointed to Skull before making a thumbs up and moving it in a circle. ‘Are you okay?’
At getting caught early, Skull let out a nervous plume of smoke. When Scratch took a step back, he sighed and held up the blender to show him. “I wanted to make you something sweet you could have that wouldn’t hurt ya.”
His real eye lit up when he saw the milkshake. Pointing at Skull again Scratch stacked his fists over themselves. He twisted them twice then, put a hand on his chest a moment before squeezing it twice and making a shaking motion. ‘You made me a milkshake?’ Scratch looked like he was about to cry.
Skull looked uncomfortable, but he tried to smile for him. Putting the blender down, he made a knocking motion twice with his fist. Bringing his hands up loosely in front of himself, he moved them quickly from side to side. “Yeah, I did.”
Bringing his hand to his chin over and over, Scratch was nearly dancing in place. ‘Thank you, thank you!’ The kid looked like a little kid getting candy. Which, Skull supposed, wasn't too far off.
Chuckling, Skull poured him a large glass and topped it with what might have been an excess of whipped cream. Once he had plunked a straw in it, he handed it off.
Scratch carefully took the glass before eagerly taking a long sip. Closing his eye, he stood perfectly still as he enjoyed the flavour. Happily, he looked up at Skull and rubbed his belly. ‘Yummy!’ he silently cheered.
Everything worked out just fine, Skull thought to himself. It was worth the trip to see the kid happy. Chuckling, he signed a W and curled it away from his mouth. “Yer, welcome. Figured you deserved something sweet.”
While he cleaned up, Skull was happy to chat with Scratch and try to come up with new ideas for shakes and other things he could eat.
Becile paced back and forth, hands steepled together as he walked the length of the hall—only to turn back and walk it again and again. His shoes were bound to wear holes in the carpet sometime soon.
“Okay, Ticci. Don’t mess this up for me. You’ll go in as bait and befriend them... and when they’re at their most vulnerable? We strike! We go fast and hard, and get the blueprints. You fail me, though? You get scrapped.”
