There, that wasn't so bad. Now, if you lied to me, or if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll know exactly where to find you. [Oswald steps back, releasing him, the tendril holding the man up disappearing in a wisp of smoke, before turning and striding towards the exit to the alley]
Gabe! We're going eastward. [his expression finally twists into a grimace as he feels that fear settle in. People going missing. Edward was dragged away yesterday. Why didn't he think to stop by earlier and just check? Why did he wait this long?!
He pulls himself up next to Gabe at the front of the carriage so he can keep a better eye out as his driver climbs up as well, flicking the reigns to get the carriage moving]
[Heading further east means heading into the... not the bad part of town, exactly, because even the criminals don't like to hang out here. It's more the dilapidated part of town. Or, well, filthy to describe it another way.
Quite literally so. It's where a lot of garbage gets dumped.
It's also at the edge of town. Going much further than this means heading out entirely. What now, Oswald? Look around here or keep going.]
[No sign of Edward. Nothing. Not even a glimpse of him nor those men dressed like guards. Oswald presses his lips together, having Gabe slow to a walk as they near the edge of town. He's pushing to stand up at the front of the carriage, looking around for any sign of...anyone, really.]
Edward! [it's called out, dread a living, coiling thing in his stomach] Edward Nygma!
[Oswald blinks at that, startled, glancing over] I--yes. Someone might've been brought this way yesterday. By some of the guards. Did you see anything?
"Uh-huh!" [She nods quickly.] "My daddy told me I wasn't supposed ta' talk to anyone about it, but... but I saw a man get taken that way." [She points. That's out of town.]
"I figured someone might get worried about him... I haven't seen him head back."
[Oswald's heart sinks. That dread grows. He swallows hard.] ...I see. [his voice is quiet--and he's fumbling in his pocket, pulling out a coin or two and handing it to her] Thank you, young lady.
[As Oswald keeps walking, he'll eventually... smell something. It's an awful scent. But, considering his area of magic, probably one he's familiar with.
[Turns out he's not smelling the rot of one body. It's multiple.
There's a ditch, running along the road. And there's clear remains in there. Several. Some older, some more recent. And as he keeps walking, the smell is gonna lessen a little. After all...
The smell doesn't get quite so bad right after death, yet.
[What on Earth---Oswald can feel his heartbeat, loud in his ears, as he starts walking faster along the bank of the ditch, at as much of a jog as he can muster with his leg. They're just...lining them up and throwing them in?! There's just so many--]
Edward--[strangled, horrorified--and he can feel his stomach drop and his throat goes tight and if his cane clatters to the ground he doesn't notice, he's just running--] Edward!
[he doesn't even stop at the edge of the ditch, just going straight down into it, reaching for the body down there. there's a ringing in his ears and everything is just white noise and no no no no--]
[As Oswald turns the body over, he'll notice a few times.
First, the body is filthy. That's no surprise. The whole ditch is wet and muddy, so the body is covered in mud and dirt. It adds up, especially if a body is left out overnight.
Secondly is his hands are tied, tightly. They're also covered in blood.
Probably that came from up on his throat, which is even bloodier. Someone slit it. But they did a poor job of it, leaving it messier than it ought to be.
His glasses are missing. But there's no mistaking who this is. He's just still, not moving, not breathing. Cold to the touch, colder even than just the warmth leaving his body. Leaving a body lying here will do that.
[it feels like everything just....stops.] --No. [it's a harsh whisper, leaning over Edward's body, expression crumpling, head shaking slightly as if to deny what his eyes are seeing. His hands shake as he reaches out to wipe some of the dirt off his face. His breath hitches in his throat; he can't breathe--] Edward--[it's almost a sob as he fumbles, water and mud soaking into his clothes as he pulls the corpse into his lap, clutching Edward's body to him, clinging, shaking]
No, no, Edward, Edward--[his shoulders jerk as his rambling is interrupted by a sob and his head drops, forehead pressed to the crown of Edward's head, holding him tightly like he did with his mother, like with his father, this wasn't going to happen again, he swore to himself--] Come back. [it's wretched, pleading, a strangled, desperate whisper] Please, Edward, please--[another sob, and he rocks back and forth, reeling. He can't stop, now, devastated, grieving, almost silent as he huddles, a small figure in the ditch curled around a dead body, shoulders shaking.]
[He doesn't hear the sound of the carriage or the horse as they draw closer. He's not even aware of another person until Gabe's hands are on his shoulders, gentle and cautious]
"Boss?"
[Oswald jolts, wrenching himself away slightly, head jerking up to look at his driver. Gabe blinks down at the body he's holding, before his expression twists] "...ah, hell. I'm sorry, boss."
[immediately, unthinkingly, Oswald lashes out] You're sorry? [half-screeched, strangled and breaking; his face twists into a mask of anguish] You think that even begins to cover this situation?! [It's not fair, really, to lash out at Gabe but...Oswald isn't thinking logically at the moment. For his part, Gabe only flinches back slightly at the initial outburst, before he frowns. He lets Oswald calm a bit; suck in some deep, sobbing breaths, curling over Edward's corpse again, trembling, before he speaks again]
"So...what do you wanna do with him?" [it's a bad situation, to be sure, but sitting here in the mud won't change it, and that's likely something Oswald will do if Gabe doesn't do what he can to pull him out of it.
Oswald sucks in a harsh breath, uncurling slightly to look down at Edward's corpse. He swallows, hard, before reaching up to brush some hair away from his forehead, staring down at him.
What does Oswald want to do?
He wants this to not have happened. This is the third time he's held the body of close to him in his arms and felt torn apart by grief. The third time he's lost like this. After his father, it wasn't supposed to happen again. He was supposed to be able to stop it. With necromancy, he was supposed to be able to....
to
Oswald looks at the blue pallor to Edward's face, the blood splashed across his front, the sloppy job at his neck, his bound hands.
This shouldn't have happened.
He can't accept this happening again. He won't accept it. ]
...get him into the carriage.
[his voice is cold, interlaced with steel, with determination.] Then get us home, as fast as possible.
[Gabe blinks, but only nods, moving to gently lift Edward's corpse from Oswald's clutches and carries him up the side of the ditch. It's a trial, then, to pull himself to his feet, his leg screaming in pain--but he does so, anyway, gritting his teeth through it and pushing himself. It takes longer than it would have for a normal person, perhaps, but he manages to get back up to the top just as Gabe finishes laying Edward's corpse on one of the bench seats. His driver steps out just in time to grab Oswald's cane from up in the driver's seat where he placed it after picking it up, holding it out to him. Oswald accepts it with a swallow, and a short nod]
Get us home, Gabe.
[and with that, he's pulling himself up into the carriage]
"You got it, boss." [with that, Gabe's pushing the door shut and climbing up into his seat, clicking the reigns and setting out for home. All of that grime is going to be hell to clean off the seats.
Within the carriage, Oswald draws the blinds down before gently reaching out to lift Edward's head, sitting down on the seat before placing it in his lap. He gently cards his fingers through Edward's hair, looking down at him, at the state he's in]
Those brutes. [his voice is low, menacing] I'll make them pay.
[Oswald has experience with bodies. You can't be a Necromancer without being very familiar with the human body, after all. What makes it tick. What makes it stop.
One thing he'll notice, if he looks closer at the wound on Edward's throat, is that it actually missed the artery that would've made him bleed out quick. It would've been a horrifying death still, obviously, but it would have been over much sooner.
Rather, judging from the cut and the fact that some of the blood seems to have pooled around his mouth, it's clear that Edward went the slower, far more agonizing way.
The cut made it so the blood filled up inside. Towards his lungs, eventually preventing him from being able to breathe entirely.
Essentially drowning in his own blood.
The blood on his hands suggests a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. No use, really, other than prolonging his suffering.
...And considering that, as well as the sheer amount of dirt and mud on his clothes, definitely makes it clear he was still alive when they dumped him. They must've slit his throat right next to the ditch and just tossed him in, not even bothering to check if he lived or not.
They probably figured it wouldn't make a different.]
[he's trembling. Less with grief, now, and more with pure rage. His hand shakes where it continues to card through Edward's hair]
I'll kill them slowly, for you. I'll make them feel every moment that they're dying. I'll make sure they regret even thinking of coming near you. [Oswald's voice is hoarse but certain, dangerous. his magic trembles just under his skin, hungry] I'll make certain that they know exactly what it is they've done and why they are suffering and I won't let them die until they've gone mad, and then and only then will I let them know how it truly feels to die.
My poor darling. [murmured, quietly, reaching up to pull his handkerchief out of his pocket and finally start wiping away the grime] Look at what they've done to you.
[he cleans his face, at least, as much as he can] I'll get you cleaned up and fixed. I promise.
[the rest of the drive home is quiet. It doesn't take too long. Once there, Gabe carries in Edward's corpse with as much gentleness as he can muster, following Oswald down to the basement where his research study is set up, and laying him gently on the table.]
Gabe, I'm going to go change; have Butch come down here and get Edward cleaned up as much as possible. Tell him the utmost care is required.
"You got it, boss." [With that, he lumbers off to do as bid, and Oswald goes to change. He can't help Edward in the state he's in, after all.]
[The mud and dirt and grime have soaked into Edward's clothes and wounds, after a day in a ditch. It's going to take some work to get that properly cleaned.
...At least they got there before the rotting started up, or they'd be dealing with a lot worse. Not to mention all the bugs he would've attracted at that point.]
[...yeah, there's that. Fortunately, Butch knows what he's on about, so at least Edward is relatively clean safe for his clothes by the time Oswald returns back downstairs. He glances over, looking a bit skeptically from Edward's corpse to Oswald]
"So....what's the plan, exactly?" [he arches an eyebrow at Oswald]
The plan is to put all my research to good use. [it's a bit testy--and Oswald's waving a hand at him] Go gather what we'll need. Tell the Professor that we'll need extra this time, and as fresh as possible.
[Butch glances at the corpse one more time, before he shrugs] "Alright. I'll be back, I guess." [and with that, he's heading out while Oswald starts to prepare]
[Edward just lies there. Cleaner, now, other than his clothes. A shame, really. Edward had been fond of this vest, but it's very much ruined, now.
At least he's in a better state to look at. There's still the matter of the wound on his throat, as well as... well. Looks like his wrist ended up dislocated or something, during... everything.
...More than likely, Edward did that to himself trying to get his hands free from the bindings.]
[that's fine--it's not Oswald's first rodeo. Granted, normally he's not overly fussed if he messes up a stitch or two but...this isn't some random body. He'll take his time, slowly stitching up the wound at his throat, cutting Edward's binds, setting his wrist--slowly and carefully fixing him up. He has to push over a chair to lean his bad leg on, but keeps working nevertheless.
It's not until Butch returns that he takes a break, briefly, to gather all the supplies he needs together. He's essentially planning on not resting until this is done. The longer a person is dead, the harder it is to bring them back, and Oswald isn't going to waste any time at all.
Preparation takes several hours. Barbara visits at one point, originally to check in on him. She makes an offhanded comment or two, and Oswald snipes back at her--but that's all the attention he's willing to give her before he simply ignores her, insisting he has to work. She leaves with a roll of her eyes, retreating upstairs and informing Oswald she's going to start going through his wine cellar until he's finished.
Oswald keeps working.
It's around four in the morning when he finally finishes preparing the body, the circle, the supplies, the incantation. He breathes out.
[Bringing the dead back isn't easy. Of course not, or everyone would be doing it. But even for Necromancers, bringing back the dead is often reserved for just having an extra body around.
Necromancers don't tend to have many friends, which is probably part of the reason.
The mind doesn't tend to be what they care about. Animating the body is all that matters.
And when Oswald finishes the incantation and his magic flows into Edward, the body's eyes open.
...Unfortunately, that's about it. He blinks, once. But there's no sign of, ah, life, so to speak.]
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Gabe! We're going eastward. [his expression finally twists into a grimace as he feels that fear settle in. People going missing. Edward was dragged away yesterday. Why didn't he think to stop by earlier and just check? Why did he wait this long?!
He pulls himself up next to Gabe at the front of the carriage so he can keep a better eye out as his driver climbs up as well, flicking the reigns to get the carriage moving]
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Quite literally so. It's where a lot of garbage gets dumped.
It's also at the edge of town. Going much further than this means heading out entirely. What now, Oswald? Look around here or keep going.]
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Edward! [it's called out, dread a living, coiling thing in his stomach] Edward Nygma!
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It's a young girl, not quite a teen yet, that walks up to Oswald and taps him on the arm.]
"Excuse me, sir? You're looking for someone?"
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"I figured someone might get worried about him... I haven't seen him head back."
[it was scary :(]
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[and he just starts...walking, that way]
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That's the smell of death.
Something's rotting.]
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It's the first time in a long time that it's brought with it a creeping sense of horror. But he'll follow his nose, looking to follow the scent. ]
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There's a ditch, running along the road. And there's clear remains in there. Several. Some older, some more recent. And as he keeps walking, the smell is gonna lessen a little. After all...
The smell doesn't get quite so bad right after death, yet.
Still walking, Oswald?]
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someone there
a body still mostly intact.
He'll know that familiar hair color. The fondness of green.
Almost there, Oswald.
Investigate?]
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[he doesn't even stop at the edge of the ditch, just going straight down into it, reaching for the body down there. there's a ringing in his ears and everything is just white noise and no no no no--]
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First, the body is filthy. That's no surprise. The whole ditch is wet and muddy, so the body is covered in mud and dirt. It adds up, especially if a body is left out overnight.
Secondly is his hands are tied, tightly. They're also covered in blood.
Probably that came from up on his throat, which is even bloodier. Someone slit it. But they did a poor job of it, leaving it messier than it ought to be.
His glasses are missing. But there's no mistaking who this is. He's just still, not moving, not breathing. Cold to the touch, colder even than just the warmth leaving his body. Leaving a body lying here will do that.
It's Edward.
And he's very dead.]
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No, no, Edward, Edward--[his shoulders jerk as his rambling is interrupted by a sob and his head drops, forehead pressed to the crown of Edward's head, holding him tightly like he did with his mother, like with his father, this wasn't going to happen again, he swore to himself--] Come back. [it's wretched, pleading, a strangled, desperate whisper] Please, Edward, please--[another sob, and he rocks back and forth, reeling. He can't stop, now, devastated, grieving, almost silent as he huddles, a small figure in the ditch curled around a dead body, shoulders shaking.]
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"Boss?"
[Oswald jolts, wrenching himself away slightly, head jerking up to look at his driver. Gabe blinks down at the body he's holding, before his expression twists] "...ah, hell. I'm sorry, boss."
[immediately, unthinkingly, Oswald lashes out] You're sorry? [half-screeched, strangled and breaking; his face twists into a mask of anguish] You think that even begins to cover this situation?! [It's not fair, really, to lash out at Gabe but...Oswald isn't thinking logically at the moment. For his part, Gabe only flinches back slightly at the initial outburst, before he frowns. He lets Oswald calm a bit; suck in some deep, sobbing breaths, curling over Edward's corpse again, trembling, before he speaks again]
"So...what do you wanna do with him?" [it's a bad situation, to be sure, but sitting here in the mud won't change it, and that's likely something Oswald will do if Gabe doesn't do what he can to pull him out of it.
Oswald sucks in a harsh breath, uncurling slightly to look down at Edward's corpse. He swallows, hard, before reaching up to brush some hair away from his forehead, staring down at him.
What does Oswald want to do?
He wants this to not have happened. This is the third time he's held the body of close to him in his arms and felt torn apart by grief. The third time he's lost like this. After his father, it wasn't supposed to happen again. He was supposed to be able to stop it. With necromancy, he was supposed to be able to....
to
Oswald looks at the blue pallor to Edward's face, the blood splashed across his front, the sloppy job at his neck, his bound hands.
This shouldn't have happened.
He can't accept this happening again. He won't accept it. ]
...get him into the carriage.
[his voice is cold, interlaced with steel, with determination.] Then get us home, as fast as possible.
[Gabe blinks, but only nods, moving to gently lift Edward's corpse from Oswald's clutches and carries him up the side of the ditch. It's a trial, then, to pull himself to his feet, his leg screaming in pain--but he does so, anyway, gritting his teeth through it and pushing himself. It takes longer than it would have for a normal person, perhaps, but he manages to get back up to the top just as Gabe finishes laying Edward's corpse on one of the bench seats. His driver steps out just in time to grab Oswald's cane from up in the driver's seat where he placed it after picking it up, holding it out to him. Oswald accepts it with a swallow, and a short nod]
Get us home, Gabe.
[and with that, he's pulling himself up into the carriage]
"You got it, boss." [with that, Gabe's pushing the door shut and climbing up into his seat, clicking the reigns and setting out for home. All of that grime is going to be hell to clean off the seats.
Within the carriage, Oswald draws the blinds down before gently reaching out to lift Edward's head, sitting down on the seat before placing it in his lap. He gently cards his fingers through Edward's hair, looking down at him, at the state he's in]
Those brutes. [his voice is low, menacing] I'll make them pay.
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One thing he'll notice, if he looks closer at the wound on Edward's throat, is that it actually missed the artery that would've made him bleed out quick. It would've been a horrifying death still, obviously, but it would have been over much sooner.
Rather, judging from the cut and the fact that some of the blood seems to have pooled around his mouth, it's clear that Edward went the slower, far more agonizing way.
The cut made it so the blood filled up inside. Towards his lungs, eventually preventing him from being able to breathe entirely.
Essentially drowning in his own blood.
The blood on his hands suggests a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. No use, really, other than prolonging his suffering.
...And considering that, as well as the sheer amount of dirt and mud on his clothes, definitely makes it clear he was still alive when they dumped him. They must've slit his throat right next to the ditch and just tossed him in, not even bothering to check if he lived or not.
They probably figured it wouldn't make a different.]
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I'll kill them slowly, for you. I'll make them feel every moment that they're dying. I'll make sure they regret even thinking of coming near you. [Oswald's voice is hoarse but certain, dangerous. his magic trembles just under his skin, hungry] I'll make certain that they know exactly what it is they've done and why they are suffering and I won't let them die until they've gone mad, and then and only then will I let them know how it truly feels to die.
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He'll never respond to anything, again.
...He really looks like a mess, like this.]
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[he cleans his face, at least, as much as he can] I'll get you cleaned up and fixed. I promise.
[the rest of the drive home is quiet. It doesn't take too long. Once there, Gabe carries in Edward's corpse with as much gentleness as he can muster, following Oswald down to the basement where his research study is set up, and laying him gently on the table.]
Gabe, I'm going to go change; have Butch come down here and get Edward cleaned up as much as possible. Tell him the utmost care is required.
"You got it, boss." [With that, he lumbers off to do as bid, and Oswald goes to change. He can't help Edward in the state he's in, after all.]
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...At least they got there before the rotting started up, or they'd be dealing with a lot worse. Not to mention all the bugs he would've attracted at that point.]
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"So....what's the plan, exactly?" [he arches an eyebrow at Oswald]
The plan is to put all my research to good use. [it's a bit testy--and Oswald's waving a hand at him] Go gather what we'll need. Tell the Professor that we'll need extra this time, and as fresh as possible.
[Butch glances at the corpse one more time, before he shrugs] "Alright. I'll be back, I guess." [and with that, he's heading out while Oswald starts to prepare]
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At least he's in a better state to look at. There's still the matter of the wound on his throat, as well as... well. Looks like his wrist ended up dislocated or something, during... everything.
...More than likely, Edward did that to himself trying to get his hands free from the bindings.]
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It's not until Butch returns that he takes a break, briefly, to gather all the supplies he needs together. He's essentially planning on not resting until this is done. The longer a person is dead, the harder it is to bring them back, and Oswald isn't going to waste any time at all.
Preparation takes several hours. Barbara visits at one point, originally to check in on him. She makes an offhanded comment or two, and Oswald snipes back at her--but that's all the attention he's willing to give her before he simply ignores her, insisting he has to work. She leaves with a roll of her eyes, retreating upstairs and informing Oswald she's going to start going through his wine cellar until he's finished.
Oswald keeps working.
It's around four in the morning when he finally finishes preparing the body, the circle, the supplies, the incantation. He breathes out.
All that's left, now, is to just...try.]
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Necromancers don't tend to have many friends, which is probably part of the reason.
The mind doesn't tend to be what they care about. Animating the body is all that matters.
And when Oswald finishes the incantation and his magic flows into Edward, the body's eyes open.
...Unfortunately, that's about it. He blinks, once. But there's no sign of, ah, life, so to speak.]
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