Familiar Faces

Familar Faces

Being a necromancer was more difficult than Scott could have ever imagined. In his four years of teaching himself to bring him back, Scott had never even gotten close. He hated himself for it. He needed to get better, but it was so difficult to come by things for necromancers, the field was, ironically, dead. Scott had never even heard of any other necromancer. He was just lucky he had learned how to easily steal things from a young age.

Now he knew why.

The magic took a toll on one's body. Every waking moment, Scott thought he felt the life force drain out of him. But he had grown used to it. It just meant he got tired easier. Which was something he ignored.

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When Scott got the letter of the opportunity to become Supreme witch, he knew that this could be the power he needed to bring him back. His darling husband...

The black haired male didn't even need to think it over before he closed the letter and walked back in his house. He stopped as he passed a few rather colorful garments along the way.. why did he still have those? They were years old at this point. He shook his head, mentally telling himself to get back on track as he walked away, holding the letter gently, almost feeling like if he was just a bit too rough with it, it would disappear. He set it on his bed before going to his wardrobe and picking out an outfit. He needed to look better than he usually did if he was gonna go meet other witches for once, right? The letter had said "meet your opponents and get to know their strengths and weaknesses!" With some coordinates, so he assumed that the other witches would be there.

Once he got an acceptable outfit, Scott took off his shirt, momentarily revealing some colorful tattoos before he put a new shirt on.

Once Scott finished getting dressed, he looked himself over in the mirror as he adjusted his hat. It felt weird to not have it on. He always had something on his head, even before he became a witch. He sighed and brushed invisible dust off of himself.
His outfit consisted of a white button-up shirt, tucked in but slightly unbuttoned at the top. He hated buttoning the top few buttons, it made him feel as though he couldn't breathe. He had a silky trenchcoat on, dark green in color to match the inside of his hat. Black jeans were an essential for him. His belt was a lighter green, but it wasn't bright. His black hat adorned some bones as accessories, and even a crow skull. He also had a robe type of thing, black in color.

He liked to say he had a good fashion sense.

It'd been so long since he had last seen other people that weren't zombies.. he wasn't sure he could remember how conversations usually go. What was okay to bring up and what wasn't? He didn't know anymore. He had forgotten the skill he had so meticulously built up when he was younger. He had needed to be persuasive and charming, and now? Scott doubted he was either.

However, he sucked it up and walked over to the other side of his small house, depending down the ladder into his basement to grab the broom with enabled him flight. He climbed back up and grabbed the letter, looking over the coordinates again before shoving the letter in his pocket. He walked out of the house, looking over the slowly spreading decay around his house as he began to walk over to a rather tall hill nearby. He wouldn't call it a mountain, but it showed some rock and stone, unlike most hills. Within this rock and stone was a small cave, which held Scott's pet, a geckotoa.

The creature went up to Scott and sniffed the hand that the man reached out with. He gave a laugh as the creature forced its head against Scott's hand, and he gave it a small pet before grabbing some of the nearby food and tossing it to the creature.
He then smiled and hopped onto his broom, grabbing the now-slightly-crumpled letter from his pocket and looking over the coordinates one last time before he took his hat off and began to fly in the direction he needed to go.