#necromanceler

[kudalyn]

have some old fart and a young whippersnapper

[kudalyn]

some doodles and notes and practice on Necro 

and then I drew a Isabella uwu

\o/ askblogs

[ted--wiggins-blog]

If course you don't believe me, you're at that age where you're "too old" to believe in magic but too young to respect your elders. Typical.

...Um

What?

[ted--wiggins-blog]

Leprechauns are debatable, you're much more likely to find people of the Fae than you are a leprechaun. Unicorns are real, just very rare and elusive in this day and age because of hunting and pollution.

[ted--wiggins-blog]

I assure you zombies are very real.

Yeah, and so are leprechauns and unicorns.

[ask-oddrey]

Among The Living. [Necro and Cappi drabble.]

But he’s here now, and his head is staring at his body a ways away, and there’s a hooded man with a very dead-looking, but very alive-acting swomee-swan by his side.

“How are you feeling, young one? Can you remember your name?” the man asks, timid and direct, and Ted gaped in shock and horror with glazed-over eyes. He’s dead. He died and he knows it. He was just starting to see white and gold lights, and there was some sort of music in the air, or something close to it, and he could have sworn he felt feathers at his fingertips and brushing his cheeks, and everything was so bright and beautiful and coming into warm, clear focus before—

Before he woke up here, back in the gloom and dullness of the decaying Valley, back to Earth. He was so close to Heaven that he could taste it, but he was brought back here. Why? And by who, this man?

“I-I… I don’t understand,” Ted opens his dry mouth to speak. His jaw aches, as if wired shut. The rigor mortis of being dead for eight or so hours is still wearing on him. He faintly feels cold; attached to his body in soul, not physicality. It’s bizarre and disjointed, and he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it one bit. “Who’re you?”

“Necromance-ler, at your service,” the man bows a bit, sheepish. “But, please. I need to know if I did it correctly. How do you feel? What do you remember?”

“I’m Ted,” the boy responds, slowly trying to sit up, but his head doesn’t move. He watches his body react, and it’s jarring. He swallows, but no spit does goes down his throat. Instead, blood bubbles up from the stump of his neck on his body. He shudders, but only his body does so. He watches it, then tries to move, but can’t. His head is stuck where it is, until his body figures out how to turn and locate it, pick it up. “Theodore Wiggins. I know who I am, pal, thanks for checkin’. But my mom, my grammy – d-do they know I’m dead?”

“Not yet, young one,” Necro replies sadly. “But they will. You’ve already been reported as missing. But I reanimated you before they could find your corpse. Dangerous combination, high speeds and an axe. You’re fortunate I was here to save you.”

“Save me? A bit too late for that, isn’t it?” Ted snaps back, feeling cold and numb and ill, but only able to sense most of it. The rest is in his head, spinning madly. “H-how is this saving me? I was so close to a better place, I could feel it! Why did you pull me back, why? I hardly felt the pain of death, but I feel it now! You want to know how I feel? Well, it’s not good, mister! I’m scared and suddenly alone – I can’t go see my family again. I’m not stupid; I realize that a headless dead boy won’t be welcomed back home – a-and I had plans, you know! Goals in life! School, and a job one day, a-and… a girl…” he stresses, and feel like he might cry. He doesn’t know if his tea ducts will still work. He’s dead.

“I know, I know,” Necro repeats softly. “I’m aware, Ted. I’m so, so sorry… but you’re so young, you shouldn’t have died! S-so I… I brought you back. I’m a necromancer, it’s what I do. I… bring back the dead who shouldn’t have died,” he murmurs in response, then gestures to his bird companion.

The bird seems to nod and squak, its neck lacking feathers down to the bone, an O’Hare Air can rings around its throat, logo still printed into the plastic. It cocks its head at Ted, the flutters over, and nudges his body, guiding it toward his head.

“Her name is Izzy,” Necro explains meekly. “Isabella. I… saved her, too. It’s my fault she’s dead; like so many swomees, I drove many of them away with my smog. And now, because of the pollution I caused, O’Hare sells his air in bottles and cans and jugs, and each one takes its toll on any swomees that try to return. Anything he does is a direct correlation of my legacy, and I’m sorry. So I do what I can.”

“You have some serious guilt issues, dude,” Ted huffs, and is picked up with a squeak by his body. He manages to get his hands to spin him around to face Necro, and he feels a bit dizzy. “So what now, huh? What will I do as this… this zombie?”

“You’re not a zombie,” Necro is quick to retort with conviction, and his brows seem to come together in the shadows of his cloak. “Zombies are mindless, soulless beings that feel no remorse or emotions, and eat flesh of any sort without care. You have your soul intact, you can still think as well as you did before you died, and you can display emotion and remorse just fine. You are simply… reanimated.”

“Yeah, okay, fine. Reanimated. But what the heck am I supposed to do as the reanimated? I can’t go home! I can’t eat and dunno if I need to sleep, I can’t make a new life somewhere else because of how I look, and just – everything about this is wrong! Shouldn’t what dead stay dead?” Ted exclaims, anxious and terrified.

Necromance-ler stoops to awkwardly give the young teen a small hug. “Please calm down… You can live with me, all right? And you can still do many things you did when you were living, even if you cannot return home. I will take care of you, and we’ll figure this out together.”

Ted struggles with it for a few moments, until he finally caves in. He has nowhere else to go. He doesn’t know this guy, but he has no choice but to trust him. He brought Ted back, after all… that must count for something. He cares enough to try and give Ted a way to keep on living, so to speak.

So Ted relents and follows the man home, feeling antsy and strange as he carries his head in his arms and feels off-kilter and melancholy. He can’t believe he got himself killed, and can’t believe he was brought back by such a strange person. But this is his semi-life now, and there will be a lot to become accustomed to, he’s sure of it.

He only prays he can handle it, and still maintain his old demeanor about it. Ted would hate to lose who he is just because he’s no longer a blood-pumping, breathing individual. 

[kudalyn]

Here's the reference sheet for Necromance-ler! Necro for short :)c

sorry bout empty space :U

Anyways yeah go ask him stuff preese he's interesting, I swear.