whimseyskulls: (Surprised)
"I--uh well, as a Necromancer and in certain other schools of magic, not using your magic kind of builds up inside of you and if you don't use it...Well after a while it just keeps you up at night, makes you sweat, distracts you, makes you want to eat, makes you not want to eat. Want to do that magic fills up head up entirely and creeps into your dreams. I wish I were better at fighting it back, it's why I keep getting kicked out of towns."

---Nev explaining one of the down sides of being a Necromancer whose trying not to re-animate.

Yesterday had been the second shift Nev had to chancel at the La Lune and she had to skip her Magic and Physics Interactions class on Monday afternoon too. She tucked into her bed in her van on Thursday evening, she figured if she sleep then, at least the front of her mind would be harassed by that terrible craving, eating up all the other thoughts and concerns. She'd tried to relief the oppressive want that had been building up over the past two months by: eating sweets, exercising, knitting, reading, she'd even bought herself something from one of those "naughty" shops. Nothing had seemed to helped. Her whole body was busy with that dark energy of her necromantic magics, or she felt totally drained of energy. Thursday had been the later and she had hopped the tiredness would actually push her through the most dangerous time All Hallows Eve and November the 1st. However...

She found herself in the town's modest little grave yard a mixture of slanting lichen splashed aged grave stones and newer monuments set in the ground of polished marble or standing free of the ground. She walked forward to where she could see the crisp bluish light of an mag-light and hear that distinctive ring of shovel tossing dirt aside. She felt herself shudder despite the night being only a little chilly and mostly wet. As she drew closer to the sound of the shoveling she had a jolt as her heart skipped a beat. It was herself digging up a grave--again. She stepped back a step and felt a pair of hands slide over her shoulders, finger-tips just resting on her collar bone. A quite dry hoarse whisper was warm at her ear.

"Raise me-- Necromancer. Make me walk on this night, make it happen." It said.

She whimpered shaking a little the hands on her were light like an elderly person's and dry the skin was gone pealed away in decay or so delicate now it was transparent, this body was well preserved for it's great age to the point that it was more dedicated like a mummy. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

"I can't-- I like this town, people get mad when this is done. I wanna stay." She said pleading with this insistent would-be helper.

The helpers voice returned... In it's quiet and rustiness of disuse it was genderless, however Nev couldn't help getting a male aspect from this one.

"You know now this town mind, so many of them Lycans their not going to send you away, at the very least you're an amusing little one. You're trying to tell yourself it's wrong when you can't. You were raised to do the raising of the undead. Please don't just leave me in the ground. No one in this town remembers my name anymore. Please, give me one last fun Halloween."

Nev still with eyes closed shook her head in that rattling way that shows a anxiety. She gasped as she felt those hands tighten on the round of her shoulders and the helper spun her around to face it...him? Startled she opened her eyes...



Nev didn't feel like she burst out of the dream so much as she felt she wriggled her way free. Her covers were all askew as she opened her eyes breathing hard and propping her self up on her mattress. Her sheets were all crumpled and her coverlet was all over the place and peppered with Halloween candy wrappers.

She looked over to her obsidian smoky mirror and it seemed to look back at her reflecting her disheveled hair and wide startled eyes. She let out a long deep breath feeling as though she could still feel the image of that helper just behind her eyes. She looked off the edge of her bed and there was her book of glyphs sitting open.

"Alright," She said a whisper at first then louder with more force each time as she stood in her Pj's, a long baggy t-shirt and little pajama pants to her knees and jammed her bare feet into her boots "Alright! ALRIGHT! I'll do it I'll go--just no more!"

She kicks up and out of bed and pulled her school books out of her backpack and put in her obsidian mirror, some tallow candles, her spell book and lastly her magically attuned ashy dark ink with it's special brush. She grabbed her mag-light and clicks it on and grabbed her shovel at the back of her van before heading out. She's passed by the graveyard before, she remembers where it is as she heads that way her boots clomping on the tarmac. She doesn't see any Tricker Treaters on her way as it's almost quarter to 11:00 pm. As she approaches the cemetery she sees the lights set into the ground are on and light the way to most of the newer section of the burial monuments. Not really noticing the rustle of damp leaves in the breeze or the occational croak of a frog she heads to the oldest section of the burials shovel clenched in her hand mag-light beam skipping on the grass ahead...

[Fellow Wereboxians! This is where you come in, do you want to stop Nev, help her, or just stand back and watch?] (: