《Making a Living: A Necromancer's Journal》Many a true word is Broken in jest
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Dear Diary,
Craigslist ad worked. Some detective who claims his last name is Cooper and has obviously seen Twin Peaks one too many times, asked me to revive something time-sensitive. I'm meeting him at The Grind for some "damn good coffee" on his dime. While I'm not thrilled about working with a cop, my bills don't really care where the cash comes from.
...
A broken promise! Does this guy think I'm a hedge witch? I nearly walked out when he told me. The only thing that kept me there was the fact that The Grind makes a better latte than I can at home and I wasn't about to waste it.
I pointed out to Detective Cooper, if that's really his name, that I am a Necromancer. Perhaps he missed that on my ad despite his advanced detecting skills. I deal with the dead, not with broken vows and shit.
That's when he explained that this broken promise was related to the dead. Turns out when he was a kid he swore on his dead grandfather that he wouldn't ever hurt his friend's brother. Unfortunately for him, said brother fell in with the local crime syndicate and Detective Cooper whacked him in a recent raid. Bro is alive but ever since then, Detective here has been haunted by his grandfather's poltergeist.
I shouldn't have but I had to ask him why he didn't go to the Law Mages or call up Crane to deal with this. Turns out he didn't want the force to know he had connections to criminals. As for Crane, well, I'm not the only one on a budget and even my highest rates are low balling Crane - probably the only thing that will draw in business for me in this city.
I told him I would have to check my notes and that I would be charging extra. He agreed and I was blessed by him adding a pastry and a second latte to my meal. At least he didn't call his coffee, "black as midnight on a moonless night." I don't know if I could have kept a straight face. So now I'm having to hunt down my Level 2 Charms studies notes. I can't bitch about it too much. Money is money.
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...
Thankfully that was simple even if it did take all night and I'm exhausted. The only thing keeping me writing at the moment was Professor Sulak beating the practice into me to keep records immediately from day one.
I called the Detective and told him to meet me at his grandfather's grave at midnight. Melodramatic timing is so old fashioned but tradition is tradition. He had to bring something that his grandfather gave him when he was alive. I didn't bother telling him it would be destroyed. I needed the item to have a strong bond and didn't want him quibbling and bringing something less emotionally valuable because he knew it would be obliterated. Perhaps it was a bad idea because he brought tin soldiers and they were hell to smash.
Thankfully, gramps' grave was local. Turns out Detective really is named Cooper.
Grandpa Gerald Cooper attacked once I started but the protective circle did the work. Simple juniper salt and holy day ashes. At least it was cheap. When I couldn't snap the tin soldiers I had the Detective give me his gun (once he took the bullets out) and used it to hammer the damn things. Once the last one was smashed, gramps calmed down.
We cleaned up. I told the Detective not to name any of his offspring after the old man and he should be fine. He gave me a generous tip but I think he regretted having that ready for me as he pouted over the stupid tin toys and the scratches on his revolver. He'll get over it.
...
I slept for a few hours but bad dreams kept me from getting any real rest. I blame the ritual. Dealing with dead family always strikes a nerve. Crane Renovations include therapy in their medical insurance...
Dad visited my sleep. (Not really. This was just my subconscious. He wouldn't bother with dream walking until I avoid at least five or so phone calls.) Disappointed in me as ever. Bernie the Black Sheep. Like it's my fault I died and came back ghost bothered and decided to make a profession out of it rather than follow him in the Law Magic field. Ugh!
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I grabbed take out from the 24/7 place. There's peas and carrots in my pork fried rice so that counts as a balanced breakfast, right? My fortune cookie says:
The best times of your life have not yet been lived.
Well I sure hope so because I think that ritual was probably the biggest thrill I've had since I blew up my still in Level 5 alchemy. (That was an accident no matter what Randall Bannerman said.) I really need to get out more.
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