The Accidental Necromancer - A Lighthearted Quest

[X] Foist the Cat-sail, Away
Dump the cat on your husband and bolt before he can do anything. Love you!

You glance at your husband, who's settling his stuff into his car and getting ready to head off as well. Fortunately, he's got the one garage door opener so he's waiting for you to leave before he backs out. With a slight pang of guilt, you scoop up the cat and quickly open the passenger side of his car.

"Here kitty, stay with Uncle and behave yourself," you say firmly to the cat. Your husband only takes an extra second to cotton onto what you're doing, so there's no time to waste. You shut the passenger door on his startled cry of "WHAT IS THIS THING WHY IS IT HERE, AH HELP" and get into your car, quickly starting the engine. You can see the hubby getting out of his car and moving his arms in what looks suspiciously like flailing, so you close your door and back out. You only roll down your window once you're a safe distance away.

"Just stick it in the warehouse area for the day! Love you!" You call, before pulling away. He doesn't look very pleased with you amidst all the yelling and flailing, and you can't really blame him for that. After all, he's not really a fan of cats. But it's true that his office has more space, and if the cat wants to follow you around, it's better to put as much distance between you and it. Hopefully it'll be so fed up by the end of the day, it'll just go away.

As you pull into your work parking lot, you pick up your phone with dread. You're certain there will be unhappy texts waiting for you, but much to your surprise, there's nothing there. Gchat, on the other hand...

--




--

"What the hell?" You'd been skeptical when he said the cat's fur was now grey green, but sure enough, the cat from this morning is what can only be described as grey with a tint of green. Sort of like a grey tabby rather than ginger, with just a hint of sickly green. And those eyes are definitely red. What the hell is going on?

"So uh, was it okay at work?" you ask tentatively. You're still trying to make sense of the colour change and you don't know what else to say right now.

"Yeah, it was fine. The pestilential creature just hung out under my desk all day." He's still peeved at you, judging by his tone. You give him a grateful hug. "Thank you for taking care of it all day anyway." You pull away and eye the cat dubiously, "I guess I should take it to the vet now."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he offers. He's a good husband because he means it, even though he really doesn't like cats. But you're a good wife, too, and you haven't survived ten years of marriage for nothing.

"No, it's fine. You go do your own thing, it's just around the corner anyway."

While you hunt around for a cat carrier, you notice the cat still hanging out near your husband. He doesn't say anything, but the exasperated expression on his face speaks volumes.

"C'mere, kitty." It turns and comes to you immediately, gazing at you with its eerie scarlet eyes. You pick it up with no resistance on its part, and you're suddenly grateful that your neighbours underfeed it. Shit, your neighbours.

"Uh actually, could you check with the neighbours and see if they have a cat?" you ask your husband. "I just assumed it was theirs because it hangs out near their house but I don't actually know…"

He just looks at you in disbelief. You try to imagine how that conversation would go, and think about the day he had with the cat, and you see his point, "Okay, I'll check with the vet first and see if it's microchipped or something," you sigh. You find an old carrier you used for your rabbits and put the cat in; it's much more docile than you imagined cats to be, but you've never had one so you're not really sure what's normal and not.

"I'll be back later," you call, hoping the vet can give you some more information. Why'd it have to be a cat anyway, why not a dog, geez.
--

After a short wait, a vet in tropical coloured scrubs leads you into one of their evaluation rooms. The vet introduces herself as Megan. She reviews the notes the Receptionist took down as you open up the cat carrier.

"So you want to see if this cat belongs to anyone, and have a general look-" the vet cuts off with a gasp as you pull the cat out of the carrier and she gets a proper look at it. She visibly swallows and gathers herself, "I see. Well, let me just ah, check on the system to see if we've got a cat matching its description on the files." She rushes out of the room and shuts the door firmly behind her.

"Okay, that's worrying," you mutter to yourself. The cat is relaxed on the table, anyway, so you absently pet it, scritching behind its ears. "That was strange, wasn't it kitty? I think she should have at least checked if you had a microchip first, don't you?" You pull out your phone and shoot the husband a quick text about the weirdness, then stand around waiting for the vet to come back. The reaction from the vet is starting to make you wonder just how strange this cat is.

She eventually returns and seems more composed, if still nervous. "Sorry about that. I couldn't find any mention of the cat on the system. Did you want it listed under your name for our records going forward?"

"Shouldn't you check for a microchip or something?" you ask, surprised.

"Oh. Sure," she says, "I'll send someone to do that in a bit. But uh, did you want to claim the cat as yours? Just in case there isn't any other form of ID." Persistent, much? Still, maybe she wants to save time later on or something.

[ ] "Yes, that'd be great."
[ ] "No, the cat is definitely not mine."
[ ] "Let's cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Okay, that's fine." She licks her lips, and comes around the table so she's facing the door, "Ah, in the meantime, what can you tell me about the cat?"

You recount the strange happenings over the course of the day, especially focusing on the docility and seeming abrupt colour change partway through the day. While you do that, she looks over the cat, performing what you assume are the typical physical tests you do for cats. Judging by her reactions, the vet's pretty weirded out by what you're telling her. "Cats tend to be more independent, although there are certainly some that are docile and will stay close to their humans. But if this is a cat that's out and about part or most of the time, as you seem to think, that would be more unusual." Back on some sort of solid ground, the vet is businesslike and more comfortable. "Do you know if he's eaten or had any water today?" That's an interesting question, you hadn't honestly given it any thought. "I don't think so, now that you mention it," you frown. "Is that normal?"

She shakes her head, "It's difficult to say. If you picked him up in the morning, though, he should've passed waste or had something by now so it's slightly unusual." She glances at the door again, as if waiting for someone. "Once we, ah, check the microchip, we might want to keep him here for observation to see if he eats anything or passes any waste, it'd give us a better idea of what's going on."

"Is that normal?" In your experience with vets, it's not. "I mean, I've never had a cat, but I used to have rabbits and if they were being kept for observation, it meant something might be wrong." There is something seriously off about Megan's behaviour; she's twitchy and her constant looks at the door make you feel like you should run. With all the other strange things going on around this cat, you wouldn't be surprised if there was more to it than she was telling you. Before she can answer, though, the door bursts open. You can only assume the person walking in was who she was waiting for, but she's looking at the individual with a concerning amount of consternation.

"Freeze, dirty necromancer!"

You're looking at what looks to be a salt-encrusted person with a cat perched on his shoulder. He's of medium height, but you can't really tell much else through all of the crystallised salt that seems to be stuck to him. The cat, on the other hand, is gorgeous with ragdoll colouring, beautiful blue eyes and a silky-looking coat. He doesn't seem to have a weapon, although his cat is suddenly looking far more hostile than it did a second ago.

"Hi?" Even as you say it, you're wondering how much stupider you could get. Hi? The guy literally just called you a necromancer and you don't know heaps about those, but you're pretty sure you're not it. Just in case, you raise your hands in the air. Maybe try again.

"Did you say necromancer? Because I don't-" you manage to get out before his cat hisses at you. You shut up. Just to be safe.

He turns his head to the cat and hushes it, "Sanchez, I'm trying to do a thing and you're ruining it." The cat becomes slightly less puffed, but continues to glare at you. After the day you've had, this doesn't feel nearly as abnormal as you think it should. The vet, meanwhile, cautiously approaches the man. "Are you from the Triple SD?" He pauses as though to give the cat, Sanchez?, a moment to react to Megan but it remains completely focused on you. He nods curtly in response to her question, which only seems to fluster her further.

"I-I just thought," she stammers, then starts over, "On the phone, they said they were sending two enforcers…"

"My partner's waiting for me outside. We figured his equipment might make people nervous." He smiles somewhat reassuringly at the vet. Despite his splashy entrance, his concern for the other patients and the vet makes you think this might be okay. Then he turns his attention back to you.

"As for you," his brows have lowered and you can almost see the stormclouds gathering, "you and your cat are coming with us. Unregistered necromancy of all things! I can't believe they pulled me out of retirement for this," he grumbles. That might help explain some of his mood, although it does nothing to explain what Sanchez is all about.

"Get your cat and come with me," he barks. Sanchez seems to have quieted now that his companion's being hostile, presumably like Sanchez had wanted him to be all along. He mews questioningly at his human perch.

"Right right, good point," he mutters to the cat. He turns back to you, "I am Acting Enforcer Swordo along with my Seeing Soul Cat, Sanchez."

"You are being taken into the custody of the Sufficiently State Secret Department under charges of Unlawful Life-taking, Unlawful Life-giving, Negligent Necromancy, and Possession of Unregistered Magical Conduits. You are entitled to one phone call once you have been remanded to the custody of the Walrus."

[ ] Hit it, Shaggy!
"I don't understand any of what you just said. Whatever it is, maybe you should check your records. It wasn't me."

[ ] Are you Usain?
This is crazy! You bolt for the door.

[ ] Let's Cronkite This Shit
You try to explain what's happening. You figure maybe he'll have the answers you're looking for once you tell him the way it is.

[ ] You Backstabbing Cow!
You scream your head off at the vet for betraying you. What happened to patient doctor confidentiality!

[ ] Recruitment Drive
"Waaaaiiiit, is this a joke? Are you guys promoting something, because this is hilarious and I totally want to be part of your organisation! Great job with the salt and the cat, by the way, you had me going there."

[A/N: Thanks to @OneirosTheWriter for playing along with the conversation, and to @Swordomatic for his input into his cameo appearance]