Lyra sat in the graveyard atop a mausoleum. It was so peaceful and quiet there, it let her think. She could sit and ponder on the mysteries of life, death and un-death in relative peace. The graveyard wasn't too 'lively'.

How does one become a powerful necromancer? she wondered, Does the knowledge just come to me, or is it stored somewhere? A book perhaps? Should I have stayed in the library?

A noise alerted her and she looked up. But it was just a bird, a small black thing. Quicker than it could think she smashed its head open with her spell book, flattening the tiny thing against the cold stone of the mausoleum. The back of her book and the stone were splattered in small flecks of pink and gray so she scraped the sticky matter off the book against the edge of the stone roof. Then she pulled out her wand. She poked the corpse of the small bird for a while, trying to find out how to make it work again. She had given it death, but now she couldn't control that death.

She sat there for a while, still poking it with the wand, desperate to make it work again.

Mr. Fluffington wasn't a happy kitty. He had been mauled, scratched, killed, become an amputee, become an un-amputee (he wasn't sure whose leg this was- nor whose ear, he didn't ask either- sometimes it paid to be oblivious) and even become a freakin' one-eyed cyclops thing before his new master had given him an eye from yet another someone. Despite having the intelligence of, well, a housecat, Mr. Fluffington knew that all that was *nothing* compared to the new horrors his master had awaiting for him.

"Mr. Flufffffy!! Where arrre you?"

Hiding, and with good reason. The kitty thought to itself. He would never, ever, ever- Oh crap, she had spotted him. Damn those stupid blue eyes that saw everything! Damn them to He-

"Come back Mr. Fluffy! Dress-up is a lot more funner than doctor! I know that you thought doctor was un-fun and that Robyn-rin was a meanie-pooh but..."

New master spoke lots and lots and seemed to be distracted by her own speaking. Mr. Fluffington took this chance to put in an extra burst of speed and ignored his master's pleas and rationalizing of the dress-up game as being fun-fun.

Mr. Fluffington didn't know human-speak but was fairly certain that fun-fun was a bad, bad, baaaaad word.

"Awwww. You came back to Mommy!"

Mr. Fluffington yowled in fright- how had she, how did she, wait, this wasn't fair! She wasn't supposed to be able to do that! Had he ran in a circle? Had she jumped over his head? How had she managed to do that? Was she a magician? He didn't know his master was a magician! That wasn't fair, she hadn't-

And then Mr. Fluffington started yelling in true fright.

Not the bonnet! Anything but the bonnet! A diaper?! I take it back, the bonnet's fine! Fine I tell ya! Nooooooooooooooo-

But of course master, being a stupid master, didn't understand a word he said. After a humiliating ten minutes he became an 'adworable little baby kitty.'

Mr. Fluffington coughed up his latest meal. That's what he thought about 'adworable' kitties. Apparently free from his evil, evil, evil master he caught scent of a butterfly and was distracted by it. It was so pwetty. Chasing it he pranced onwards and onwards until he found another master-type person...

And a bird!! Oooh! A birdy! Pretty birdy! Yummy birdy!! Birdy! Gimme! Gimme!

Lyra whipped around at the sound of another living being, her wand up. Little globules of brain matter dripped from the end of it, squelching slightly as they hit the cold stone. Lyra stood up and wiped her wand in the folds of her skirt, before pointing it back to the source of the noise. A cat, small and not exactly cute was prancing toward the dead bird, trailing a small girl it its wake.

Lyra studied the cat for a moment, trying to decide what exactly was wrong with it. Then she realized, it wasn't just a cat, it was several cats, an amalgamation of various body parts.

How can this thing still be alive? she wondered. A moment later she hit on the answer and whirled back to face the girl that had been chasing the cat. She hopped off the mausoleum, and ran toward the girl, stopping a few feet short of her.

"Hello" she said speaking very quickly, "is that your cat? Are you a necromancer? Do you know spells? Can you control death? Can you teach me? I want to control death. Hello?"

She looked expectantly at the little girl.

Robyn cocked her head curiously at the unexpected arrival of this new friend-friend. Arrival- no, she had been here all along! Robyn put a mental hand over her mouth in horror- she hadn't even noticed her at all! Her new friend-friend must be very, very sad. Robyn felt tears come to her eyes- how could Robyn be so mean? Bad Robyn! Bad, bad Robyn! Double Bad Robyn!

...and she had such a nice flower in her hair too. So red. So vibrant. So purdy. Oooooo.

While Robyn was staring at Lyra in fascination, Mr. Fluffington managed to get his diapered behind behind Lyra and started nibbling on his newest meal. Mmmmm.

Lyra started talking. Robyn nodded her head going 'uh-huh' almost as fast as the questions came out but at the final question only got confuzzled.

"Hello?" She repeated. And then she gasped! This was surely the backwards-forwards game! No *wonder* her new friend-friend was speaking so quickly. She wondered how her friend-friend knew that Robyn-rin liked this game so much but dismissed it as unimportant. If her friend-friend wanted to play such a wonderful game than Robyn would certainly oblige!

... where did Mr. Fluffy go? Oh well, he'd come back. He always came back because he luffed her and luffed her gamez!!

Robyn put two index fingers on her temple. The left one- for some reason the right temple made her head hurt even more and tried to do a 'brain massage.' It (According to Mr. Friend-Friend in Healersville) would help her concentrate. And she needed all the concentration she would be able to get in order to manage this oh-so difficult task of repeating backwards everything she had heard forwards.

Oh how much fun they would have!

"I... control death. Can you teach me? Can you control death? ........spells?" She forgot the rest and decided she might as well try. "Mr. Fluffington is a caca."

Then she put a real hand over her mouth. She had just said the C-word! How dare she! Would her new friend-friend mind? Staring in trepidation at her new friend-friend she hoped that they would be able to continue to play this game but if not, they could always play doctor...

Kenith paced, barefoot as always, into the graveyard with little intention other than to sit around with the dead (And an undead if he was lucky). He prodded the soil resting above a buried body, only time would know how long it had been there...and the tombstone too. "Yes, tombstone knows." He muttered aloud, something he frequently did. He would scoff at the thought that he talked to himself, he simply says he thinks out loud. Though if they persist, they often find themselves on the ground with a dagger impaled in their chest. He typically got his payback when they couldn't resist, or resist well. He never thought of himself as an assassin, simply a person who helps people along with the inevitable. Though he also intends to help them come back, if not all there in the head, literally and figuratively. He snickered and jumped up onto a tombstone, his feet tapping against its cold surface. "Time, time, time. Time sees us all dead. Time sees us back too."

((OOC: I don’t have much time, sorry))

Lyra watched the little girl with a great deal of interest. The girl was eyeing the flower in her hair and seemed quite oblivious to the cat that was cowering behind Lyra. Then she spoke, just repeating back most of what Lyra had asked her. I must have said all that too quick and confused her she thought.

“Hello. My name’s Lyra. Do you know necromancy?” she asked, speaking a great deal slower.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed another figure, dressed all in black, sitting atop a gravestone. Weird she thought, that’s what I was doing

Robyn giggled. She was getting better at this game as she remembered how it went. It was always like that, as she played games that she had forgotten she started remembering the rules, the forms and the very, itty-bitty details that had always escaped her when she began them.

"?Necromancy Know You Do." Robyn repeated backwards with perfect intonation and expression and whatsits. She was about to say the next phrase when she got a bit confuzzled. Her friend-friend had just introduced herself! Which meant that Robyn-rin had to introduce herself! But they were playing a game and she couldn't stop the game for her friend-friend. What was poor Robyn-rin to do?

Introduce herself backwards of course!

"Rin-Robyn Name My." She said, her tongue half out as she concentrated her brainpower on figuring out how to reverse a sentence she hadn't heard in the past twenty seconds.

Mr. Fluffington Von Luffy (or was it Lumpeh?) started to yowl. All his fur went fling-fling as if static el-ek-triki-kity was crawling over him. Spitting out bird feathers he continued hissing and spitting as the kitty-kat spotted a familiar figure. A figure that had been the meanie-pooh in the first place!

Robyn followed his gaze curiously and then smiled. It was the friend-friend from back... then. Sometime. She got confuzzled. What had happened exactly? She knew it was something... something important... that had to do with the thinking cap. Robyn shrugged, if it were so durn important Momma Bear should have made a sticky note out of spiderwebs and stuck it somewhere where she could see! All this clutter made no sense to her!

Promptly forgetting the backwards-forwards game, which seemed quite appropriate since Mr. Fluffington had failed at his backwards-forwards task (he'd pay for it later with a good game of checkers-chess) Robyn pointed at the familiar (unfamiliar) person.

"He likes friend-friends like Mr. Fluffington," she pointed at her kitty-kat, "lots and lots."

Kenith's gaze lingered over the tombstones and he slowly laid eyes upon two people. He looked between them, recognizing one. "The nut-nut," Kenith dropped down and walked towards them. He waved slightly to Robyn, glaring at the cat. He looked the other person up and down, looked a little too deathly to be living in Kenith's opinion. He knew undead well, "Well how are you two necropolitans today?"

Wrong account, sorry.

lyra stared at the strange girl. It seemed that some unfortunate event had scrambled the poor girls brains and that she no longer retained the ability to speak in the correct order. Nor, it seemed, could she compose a sentence of her own, instead repeating Lyra's words back to to her, in reverse order. But the girl managed to introduce herself.

"Well Rin-Robyn, it was nice meeting you..." she said, trailing off into nothing in an attempt to get rid o the girl lightly. But as she did so another figure appeared and addressed them both.

"I am well, thank you." she replied, "But this little girl needs a friend. Why don't you..." she tried it again.

Kenith shook his head. No I am not going to get stuck with her again. He didn't mind her but she was just plain insane. He gazed back into the old graveyard. He was so close to making them walk once more, but he had yet to achieve his goal. He suppressed a thought. It felt as though today would be the day, but that wasn't likely. Best not to get his hopes up.

Lyra turned to face the newcomer, suddenly hit with a thought.

"Hey, do you by any chance happen to know how to raise the dead?" she asked, "As you knew I was dead, is there anything you can teach me? Please, I'm desperate!"

She looked with her cold, dead eyes, straight into his, pleading silently.

"This girl is crazy" she added in a whisper.

Kenith grinned a wide, mistchevious grin. "I havn't succeded yet but I bet I'm about to." He wandered over to some graves muttering a second reply, "I know." He stopped before his targets, each grave gad a body, each body had potential. He would activate that potential. Kenith closed his eyes, focusing on the mental image of zombies rising from their gaves. He pointed his hands towards the graves. His hands began to glow and bolts of energy shot into the graves. Kenith's eyes shot open in suprise. "Did-did I do it!?" He nearly fainted with joy as the first hand shot from its tomb, then an arm, a head, a torso, and legs! The zombies, seven in all, stared at him. He tilted his head in curiosity. "Think they want me to make them do something? Hrm... how about this... Go play with the girl over there," he pointed to Robyn. The zombies groaned and moaned in agknowledgement and trudged over. "I did it! Yes!"

Yang wandered through the outskirts of the town aimlessly. He had no particular interest in mind, other than to find something to do. He wasn't sleeping well at the moment. He saw a few figure off in the distance, in the graveyard and heard the sound of voices. alert for evil, he made his cautious approach.

"Hello?" he called.

"Wow" exclaimed Lyra, "I bed I can do that too!"

She looked around for a grave that was not now empty. Spotting one she raised her hands in much the same fashion as the man had and thought hard. Get up She willed it with every fiber of her being. Her mind screamed for it, her hands shook, her body tense.

With a crack a bolt of black energy shot from her hand, sinking into the ground. It left her feeling exhausted and drained. She watched and waited. The ground around the grave subsided a little, a small mound forming. All of a sudden a hand burst from the ground, hollow and rotting. The hand reached around for a suitable handhold and upon finding none, flailed about uselessly.

Lyra sighed. Typical, I finally do it and all I get it is a lame zombie, too stupid to get out of its grave. She looked back at the man.

"Hey, it's alive isn't it?" she asked.

The half-vampire nodded. "If you count undead as alive, then yes. He is very alive." He scratched his head, "too bad its got some issues," Kenith looked around. His gaze fell upon Robyn, the insane little necropolitan girl. "You happy over there?" He watched the zombies doing their best to play with the undead girl, the same age as him and yet far, far older. He mused the thought over, he had to be the youngest here. "So..." Kenith looked around the graveyard, so bleak, so filled with death, but so much potential and peace at the same time. It was his kind of place to relax.

Kenith walked over to one of his zombies. By the rate at which he had decomposed, it was a skeleton. An odd one too, missing an arm. The half vampire looked the undead over. His thought returning again, "So, you have been dead for a long time? You must have had some time to think about things. To try so many things. Whats it like?" He tilted his head in curiosity.

Lyra looked at him seriously, considering if he were mature enough to appreciate the answer. She decided he was.

"For forty-one years I have been dead now. Forty-one. Seems like forever." she sighed, "Death is an interesting experience, granted, and rebirth is even more interesting. I have learned to read, I have learned to sing, to draw, to act, to kill, to cook. All of that is interesting. But for all this time, I have not felt a thing. Not hot nor cold, tired nor lively. An eternity without feeling.... that is true torture. And then you have the other problem. Living with yourself."

She looked back to Robyn.

"She may well live forever, but it is not the same little girl in there. Her mind is broken, her thoughts scattered. I am afraid that is what I will become, should I not find a way."

Kenith nodded in acknowledgment. His cut and patched cloak flapping quietly in the breeze. "I understand, you sacrifice many things and gain others. Its an age old deal. You give up what makes you human, or lupine...etcetera etcetera...and you gain the ability to spend infinity learning everything there is to learn." He nodded, looking back to the other girl. "Wonder how long she has been dead..." He shook his head, "Kinda sad really."

While the two of the necromancers spoke of their dreams and their passions and their aspirations Robyn _seemed_ to be watching them intently and actively listening as well as systematically ignoring all their attempts to socialize with her. For all intents and purposes she listening though: after all, looking attentive was just as important as being attentive. Unfortunately for Robyn, quite a bit of her seemed to have decided that she had best shut down for the day so for the most part all she heard was a frequent droning whine uttering from their two mouths as she struggled to stay 'waky-wake'.

"Beepity beep beep. Greahcht! Beep! Beeeeeep!" The girly said, her lips moving and her face rather expressive but notably unrevealing.

"Beep. Beep. Beepity! Arg!" The other one responded boorishly. Or so Robyn imagined. He looked like a boorish type.

"Blahblahblah. Cheeken! Beep! Blahblahhahaha!"

And on it went. For some reason she didn't even feel like playing with the friend-friend they had made. She heard her name be called

Robyn felt her eyes start to shutter. Behind the two of them, forgotten and unannounced, Meester Fluffington continued to dig voraciously into his bird. Though the undead kitty could not taste his meal- indeed he had trouble getting his jaw to chew with all the normal kitty vigor- the memory of tearing apart birdies was just too far entrenched and he vigorously consumed the creature as happily as he would had it and himself been alive.

Probably moreso, even.

Staring at the two of them, Robyn didn't bother to even move. What was the point? It was so boring, boring, boring. Or was it? Energy coursed through her limbs and she started to hear... normally again for some reason.

"Kinda sad really."

"Oooooh? What be sad?" She chirped cheerfully.