Cohost writing prompt: @Making-Up-Adventurers — Adventurer who has gotten pretty used to being cursed, and the magical cure is a lot of hassle anyway
"Well," Camlon says breezily, sitting shirtless in a tavern backroom, a book held open in his lap, "the clerics keep saying that having a poltergeist bound into the flesh of your body probably can't persist through death and a life-restoration spell, but it seems drastic, does it not?"
"They surely aren't suggesting you die on purpose," the other adventurer — horned and violet-eyed, frowning over her ale — says. "Or — surely not proposing to kill you?"
"On the details, they've always been a little vague," he says. "Wizards have told me I'd need a specialist; there aren't many consulting necromancers. I did find one — she seemed very interested. She said it was an unusual case. I didn't much like the way she talked about having me as a research subject."
He turns a page, without looking down.
"Is it like that all the time?" the adventurer says, scratching her neck, and he glances down to where the rough shape of a human face has pressed itself out from the bare surface of his chest, eyes cast down at the book.
"Oh, no, he just wanted to pass some time reading," Camlon says, and quirks one corner of his mouth up. "Your flesh changing shape so, that takes a little getting used to, but it doesn't even hurt. Once we both calmed down about it, he's not a bad fellow."
Her gaze flicks up and down, between his face and the other face; she takes another swig of beer. "Must make screwing weird, aye?" she says, waggling an eyebrow, and both faces look at her. Camlon's grin widens.
"Well, if you're angling to find out—" he says.