No idea what to call this (anyone can join) (FINISHED)

Beckett turned to the tall, cross-armed figure.
"You celebrate Halloween?" he asked, then did a bit of a double take. What was he even talking about? Why did he even ask? God, maybe he had lost it after all. He didn't know, though. He found himself knowing less and less for certain every day.

Beckett sidestepped the gasoline and laughed.
"What a complete jackass," he said, tossing his head back. "He thinks he can just fucking kill anyone who annoys him? What is it, buddy, you worried that Peppermint prefers me? Since I'm at least interesting and not some cardboard cutout posing as a goddamn person?"

“If you’re referring to me, I don’t. No time during a war, you see? And I also admit I haven’t heard much of it up until now…” Ivchenko realized. Well, that was a lie, sort of. Maybe not for what he really was, but for him, it was the truth. Maybe he’d go and check out what Halloween was. Maybe not.

(Lmaoooo what a dick move. You can't just murder every character that shows yours up. It's bad writing.)

(Way to go, by the way, for trying to murder a character just because he's a bit unstable. That's a real good look.)

"'Be the bigger person'?" Beckett scoffed. "After you tried to fucking murder me? Yeah, thanks for that, Mister Radiofuck. Real big of you there."
Beckett reached into his pocket and fished around, trying to find what he was searching for. Where were those damn cigarettes? His fingers grazed the box when he remembered that Peppermint was still there, and decided against having one.

(Still, it doesn't make it look like it's showing Voz as a bastard. It makes you look like a petty little bitch who can't stand the attention being off of you and Voz for a second. Also, annoying as fuck. You can't just try to kill other people's characters without their consent. I rarely roleplay and even I know that.)

(Ash and I are invested here, so….)

(Yeah, sorry for being upset about my character being murdered for no goddamn reason, just because someone has a personal vendetta against me)

(I didn't? I critiqued one thing that you wrote, and I have a tendency to write characters who are sort of bitchy. You need to calm the fuck down, mate.)

(Maybe if you didn't try to murder my character I would. I'm willing to bury this hatchet, mate, if I stayed mad at everyone I criticized I'd hate everything. And contrary to popular belief, I do like some things. Maybe like five things total, but things nonetheless.)

(In the immortal words of William Shakespeare–sort of–"it be like that sometimes")

(It must be as it may.)