“I know of at least four others—” he stopped, blinking, allowing the pair to talk before he was questions again.
“Erm, yes.” he was a living copy, but by no means one that never died. “I was like you, green and everything. Then some magic mixup gave me life again and I’ve just been like this.” He left out the majority of the details. Strange voices telling you someone else had to die for you to live again was not an experience he was about to share again.
“Dude! That is some of the raddest stuff I’ve ever heard!” Excitement making Hanna forget that he was talking to a police officer, “Although, I guess five of me could do some real damage… Heh. Better be careful not to accidentally double up any spells or whatever.” Hanna looked sheepish. His tiny form was a constant reminder of the kind of damage magic could do. The zombie patted his back with his fingertips in reassurance.
“Wow… so you like, remember everything, like who you were and everything?” He asked hopefully. In truth Hanna had a million questions for the man, but this was the important one.
“I try to keep the magic in my house to a minimum…” he added, chuckling a little. Truthfully he was scared of it, even when explained beforehand, it could naturally horribly backfire.
“And no- I still don’t remember anything. My last memory is waking up, dead, and beginning to wander around.” Surely he had parents somewhere looking for him. Family members, friends, etc. Maybe a kid or two? A wife?
And he’d simply settled down again, which he was thankful for. “The only reason I know my name is because there are copies of me as well, ones who do remember everything. And they’re all named Jayne.”
“Heh. Yeah, magic is kinda like handling dangerous chemicals- You probably don’t want to deal with that unless it’s like, your only marketable skill… And sorry about your memory, man. ”
The tiny mage flashed a kind of bittersweet grin at the officer, then perked up and turned to his undead partner-
“Hey, ‘Jayne?’” He asked, with as slightly hopeful smile.
“No. It doesn’t feel right. Sorry.” The zombie replied.
“Heh, too bad, I guess.” He said, looking only a little crestfallen.
“So Officer,” the zombie said, “I take it you live with a Hanna?”
“I know of at least four others—” he stopped, blinking, allowing the pair to talk before he was questions again.
“Erm, yes.” he was a living copy, but by no means one that never died. “I was like you, green and everything. Then some magic mixup gave me life again and I’ve just been like this.” He left out the majority of the details. Strange voices telling you someone else had to die for you to live again was not an experience he was about to share again.“Dude! That is some of the raddest stuff I’ve ever heard!” Excitement making Hanna forget that he was talking to a police officer, “Although, I guess five of me could do some real damage… Heh. Better be careful not to accidentally double up any spells or whatever.” Hanna looked sheepish. His tiny form was a constant reminder of the kind of damage magic could do. The zombie patted his back with his fingertips in reassurance.
“Wow… so you like, remember everything, like who you were and everything?” He asked hopefully. In truth Hanna had a million questions for the man, but this was the important one.
“I try to keep the magic in my house to a minimum…” he added, chuckling a little. Truthfully he was scared of it, even when explained beforehand, it could naturally horribly backfire.
“And no- I still don’t remember anything. My last memory is waking up, dead, and beginning to wander around.” Surely he had parents somewhere looking for him. Family members, friends, etc. Maybe a kid or two? A wife?
And he’d simply settled down again, which he was thankful for. “The only reason I know my name is because there are copies of me as well, ones who do remember everything. And they’re all named Jayne.”
“Heh. Yeah, magic is kinda like handling dangerous chemicals- You probably don’t want to deal with that unless it’s like, your only marketable skill… And sorry about your memory, man. ”
The tiny mage flashed a kind of bittersweet grin at the officer, then perked up and turned to his undead partner-
“Hey, ‘Jayne?’” He asked, with as slightly hopeful smile.
“No. It doesn’t feel right. Sorry.” The zombie replied.
“Heh, too bad, I guess.” He said, looking only a little crestfallen.
“So Officer,” the zombie said, “I take it you live with a Hanna?”
