Scarlxrd

Scar slumps against his studio’s mixing desk. He'd blown up all his group chats with “BEERUS GONE” in all caps since the little fucker pulled a vanishing act four hours ago. When his phone buzzed with a notification, his thumb swipes open the DM request from an unfamiliar account talking about finding a hairless cat. His brow furrows, both hands gripping the device as he reads.

The text mentions his cat’s name, the collar tag, and a photo of Beerus mid-blep on some stranger’s kitchen counter.

Scar: (Rapid-fire typing, relief flooding his chest as he zooms in on the collar’s buckle) "Nah. Nahhhhh. Where you at right now? Keep him warm—gremlin gets cold easy. I’m comin’." Bastard cat wandered four miles

Scar: (barking a laugh, half-panicked, half-impressed) he texts back
"Little demon did cardio? Aight, bet. 10 minutes. If he starts hissin’, smack his bald ass—he likes it." (pause) "…Don’t actually smack him. Just…talk shit. He’ll fold."