eddie likes to (riddlethem) wrote in repose, @ 2017-12-01 22:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, eddie nelson, stephanie miller |
log: stephanie/eddie at the apartment
Who: Eddie, Stephanie
Where: Repose
When: Recently
What: talking and a little necromanin'
Warnings: tba
For all the supernatural wonders that stretched through the town of Repose, there wasn't a lot of good places to practice necromancy. Graveyards were always a bad idea without exception because of the simple high volume of corpses to potentially raise. The forest was equally as unhelpful as the dead might have been numerous, but they were spread out and in different stages of spiritual and physical decomposition. Eddie had done a simple rune spell earlier in the day over coffee and toast in his office. He could feel the spark of his abilities start to crackle like a freshly lit flame. However, he needed to know just how far his powers could stretch. If his muscles had grown weak in the time Repose forced him on vacation. There was no returning to Karma's Bite if he wasn't capable of striking fear into the hearts of raiders that could throw fireballs.
He elected for the lake. It was easier to pinpoint the dead that had been thrown there and it took a good deal of effort to raise them up from their watery graves. Plus, there was something romantic about the watery funerals. His favorite happened a long time ago, sitting on the docks of New Jersey with a wanted psychopath, pouring the ashes of another (albeit dead) psychopath into the dirty ocean. It had been a long time since he had met a rogue he liked. Where had they all gone?
Eddie had walked, green scarf wrapped around his mouth and trailing behind him, through people twirling in the snowflakes. He stopped to catch one in the palm of his hand, he watched it melt, he licked the drugged up drop off his glove, he felt nothing. Such beauty made him feel like a pumpkin waiting to be carved. Why were there so many people in this world who had things he couldn't? Eddie walked faster to the lake. Through dark trees, to the docks which were much cleaner and modest than the ones back in Jersey. He found a boat, he rowed to the middle and he began a ritual. It involved a book, some candles and a little poetry reading session. Nothing, for a long time. This was to be expected. The dead out here had the tendency to hit the eternal sleep button more than once.
Eventually, he saw the shape of a jet fighter below his boat. It was like being out on the ocean and a whale had decided to drift up from the great beyond. There was a terrible shriek that barely made it past the rolling fog on the lake and then he saw the green glow of a spirit rise to meet him. The white bone of a skeleton arm clutched the side of his boat and a locket was tangled between the digits. "Bring this to my wife." The ghost requested. "What's in it for me?" Eddie responded, leaning over to look at the skull speaking to him. "A favor."
That was good enough for Eddie.
He rowed back to the shore after bidding the ghost pilot goodnight. He walked back to the arcade with the locket in his hand. It was rusted shut, stained black and tangled in green rust. Eddie could feel the magic in it. He considered the night a success. The riddled man would have slept in his office, but he promised to talk with Stephanie eventually, so now was a good time to pull that thorn out before it dug in any further. Eddie opened the door to their apartment above the warm arcade. His scarf still covering his mouth.
"Here I am." Seemed like the right thing to say.