A Fall in the River
A Pink Necromancer Fiction Short

A Fall in the River

The little wooden rowboat rocked gently on the murky green river, sunlight glinting off the water’s surface in blinding flashes.

BoomFuzzy sat at one end of the boat, long grey dreadlocks trailing over his shoulders, his hands deftly tying a lure onto the end of a fishing line, while explaining to GhoulSpawn what he was doing.

BoomFuzzy was an expert fisherman, a side effect of being a master chef who specialized in cooking seafood and refused to let anyone else catch the fish he cooked.

GhoulSpawn, having spent the near entirety of his life in Harvard University dodging first the Korean War draft and then the Vietnam War draft, amassing endless PhDs in sciences, had no clue how to fish. Isekaied here to the dystopian post apocalyptic wasteland ruins of the 40th century from the comforts of campus life in 1978, he had no clue how to do anything at at.

Survival was not GhoulSpawn’s strong point and left to his own, he would not last day in this era, where governments no longer existed, factories and business had not been seen in centuries, and the world was nearly the Dark Ages when it came to basic survival.

GhoulSpawn, perched awkwardly beside BoomFuzzy, held a rod in his clawed hands, his golden fleece glinting beneath the sun’s heat. His cloven hooves tapped nervously against the damp floorboards as he watched BoomFuzzy’s hands with wide-eyed fascination.

“Now, ya got tae hold it steady, Goat,” BoomFuzzy said, his thick Scottish brogue making GhoulSpawn’s ears twitch.

“I’m a sheep.”

BoomFuzzy glared at the Satyr Demon.

“Stop interrupting me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up and listen. How the hell did ya spend ya entire life as a student and never learn how to shut up and listen to ya teacher?”

“You’re not my teacher.”

“Who the one teaching ya hairy arse how ta fish?”

“That would be you.”

“Then that makes me ya teacher.”

“You’re not a good teacher.”

“Ya’re not a good student.”

“Will you two stop fighting!” Quaraun yelled at them. “I am trying to sleep.”

“Ya know ye could do to learn to fish, yarself. Get ya scrawny arse over here and learn to catch ya own meal.”

“I have a headache.”

“On account of ya don’t stop drinking.”

“On account of I am sitting in the sun.”

“Stop being such a sissy. How the hell did I end up with two inapt, lily-livered pansies? I’ve marched armies across this frigging planet, battled bloody Humans, took down down zombie hordes, crowned meself king of this of this entire damned godforsaken fucking planet, and when I retired from fighting bloody fucking endless world wars, I marry a simpering twitch who brings with him another whimpering twit to live with us! Got a draft dodging idiot Satyr to my right and whining pampered High Elf prince to my left. Not a one of ya ever saw the front lines of a fucking war, or know the first thing about getting yar hands dirty!”

“Sorry, I am not a war lord like you.”

“Mmpphh. Go back to sleep, ya stupid Elf.”

“I intend to.”

“He never helps, does he?” GhoulSpawn asked.

“No. I ought to kick him off the boat.”

“I’m surprised you don’t. You’ve kicked me off enough times.”

“Aye. But you can swim.”

“Quaraun, can’t swim?”

“Nope.”

“He’s a lighthouse keeper.”

“Aye.”

“And he spends half his life live on The Mark Twain — “

“Blue Monkey. We renamed it, when we repainted it.”

“Dude, my point is, he spends an awful lot of time on or near water, he should learn how to swim.”

“Aye. I’ve tried teaching him. Ya’ve no idea, how bad he gets.”

The trio continued their day, Quaraun bitching about everything. BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn ignoring him while BoomFuzzy went over the fine art of catching river trout.

“An’ when ya feel th’ pull, ya dinnae jerk it — let th’ fish run wi’ it a bit first, aye?”

GhoulSpawn nodded eagerly.

“Got it! Steady — don’t jerk. Let it run.”

Across from them, Quaraun lounged beneath a massive pink lace parasol, dressed in layers of flowing pink silk and glittering pink rhinestones. A wide-brimmed floppy pink sunhat shaded his face, oversized pink rhinestone encrusted sunglasses perched on his nose. He flapped a fluffy pink feather fan, more interested in the oppressive heat and the threat of sunburn than the fishing lesson unfolding before him.

“I hate this heat,” Quaraun snarled.

“What heat?” GhoulSpawn asked. “ “It’s not even fifty degrees Fahrenheit. There’s ice on the water, and snow on the riverbanks.”

“It hot for us, Ghouly,” BoomFuzzy said. “We live in an ice age, remember. Below zero’s our norm. Fact that the river has moving water in it, says we gots heat wave happening.”

“You know, in 1978, a heat wave would have been defined as higher than a hundred and twenty degrees Fahrenheit for a minimum of three days, not anything above thirty two degrees Fahrenheit for a few minutes. I mean, this is Maine. I lived here. How did this happen.”

“In the year 2525, a comet hit the moon.” BoomFuzzy pointed up at the Fractured Moon which hung low in the sky, looking as though it would crash into the planet at any minute. “Moon dust and comet dust filled the atmosphere, blocked the sun. We ain’t seen direct sunlight since. Entire planet frozen in under a week. Happened before Quaraun were born, so he does not remember it. But I remember it. I wasn’t a Lich yet back than. I was still alive. I remember the world as you knew it, Ghouly.”

“2525 would have been Comet Swift Tuttle.”

“Aye. That were the one.”

“It comes through every hundred and thirty three years.”

“Aye. And rains meteors on us every August. That not changed.”

“I do not understand why I was dragged along for this miserable venture,” Quaraun drawled, glaring down at a smear of green slime on the hem of his gown. His lip curled in disgust. “The sun. The heat. The smell. The mud. The… algae. It is revolting.”

“Yer th’ one who said ya wanted fresh trout for supper,” BoomFuzzy grunted.

“Yes, well, I assumed you would go acquire it without dragging me into this cesspit with you.”

BoomFuzzy rolled his eyes and turned back to GhoulSpawn.

“Try castin’ it again. His royal pain in the arse is getting bitchier.”

GhoulSpawn grinned and flicked the rod forward — too hard. The line tangled mid-air and landed with a limp splash.

“Oops.”

BoomFuzzy sighed.

“Ya ken, ya’ve got th’ coordination o’ a blind goat on roller skates.”

“I’m trying!”

Quaraun sniffed haughtily.

“Must you splash about so violently? You are getting water on me.”

“Love,” BoomFuzzy said without turning around. “Ye’re in a boat. Water happens.”

Quaraun huffed and stood, shifting his weight gingerly on the slick, wet planks of the boat. He swiped at the hem of his gown where mud and slime clung to the silk.

“I need to stand. This is intolerable — ”

The boat rocked. His heel slid against the wet wood.

A sharp gasp.

Then a splash.

Quaraun hit the water hard, his parasol spinning off into the current. He flailed, limbs thrashing as the ice cold river swallowed him.

“Quaraun!” BoomFuzzy was already moving, diving over the side of the boat in a flash of dark limbs and grey dreadlocks.

“Oh god!” GhoulSpawn’s eyes widened, hands scrambling over the side of the boat. “Quaraun can’t swim! Quaraun can’t swim!”

The Elf’s flailing limbs disappeared beneath the murky water before he broke the surface again, coughing, screaming, eyes wild with panic.

“NO — NO! I’m drowning — NO! HELP ME!”

BoomFuzzy reached him in two powerful strokes. His strong arms wrapped around Quaraun’s waist, dragging the struggling Elf against his chest.

“Calm down, Love — I’ve got ya. I’ve got ya.” BoomFuzzy’s voice was low, soothing, even as Quaraun twisted and fought.

Quaraun’s hands clawed at the water, grasping wildly for something solid. His breath hitched in ragged gasps.

“I can’t — I can’t — ”

“Ya’re no’ drowning, Love. Ya’re no’ drowning. I’ve got ya.”

BoomFuzzy swam toward the shore, towing the panicked Elf through the water. He dragged Quaraun up onto the sandy bank and pulled him into his lap.

Quaraun kept flailing, his hands still clawing at the air, legs kicking as if he were still drowning. His chest heaved with shallow, panicked breaths.

“Shhhhh, easy, Love. Calm down. Ya al’right.”

Quaraun’s hands clenched into BoomFuzzy’s chest, his eyes wide, unfocused.

“I’m drowning,” he gasped.

“No, Love.” BoomFuzzy rocked him gently. “Ya’re safe. Ya’re out o’ th’ water. Feel me? I gotcha. Ya’re safe.”

GhoulSpawn managed to get the boat to shore, hopping out and splashing through the shallows.

“What’s happening?” He crouched beside them, golden fleece darkened by the damp air. “I he all right?”

BoomFuzzy held Quaraun tightly, pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.

“He thinks he’s still in th’ water.”

“But… he’s not?” GhoulSpawn’s brow furrowed.

“Nae, but he’s got a bad fear o’ drownin’.”

“But he’s not in the water anymore.”

“Aye. Phobia. Pot traumatic stress disorder. Nearly drowned once. Never got over it. Day his hands were crushed. His father put his hands in the grinding wheel of a windmill and held his head underwater. He was just a child.”

GhoulSpawn hesitated, then reached out, brushing Quaraun’s soaked silver hair from his face. The Elf was still screaming and thrashing. BoomFuzzy was squeezing him tight, trying to keep him from hurting himself.

“Hey, Quaraun. You’re okay. BoomFuzzy’s got you.”

Quaraun’s breath hitched. His eyes darted wildly around before finally settling on BoomFuzzy’s face.

“You… you caught me,” Quaraun whispered.

“Aye, Love. Always.”

GhoulSpawn smiled and sat back on his hooves.

“You scared the crap out of me.”

BoomFuzzy chuckled.

“Scared th’ crap out o’ me too.”

Quaraun sagged against BoomFuzzy’s chest, trembling.

“I hate water,” he murmured.

“Aye, Love. I ken.”

BoomFuzzy kissed Quaraun’s forehead, then looked toward GhoulSpawn.

“Looks like our Elf’s done fishin’ for today.”

“Yeah,” GhoulSpawn agreed. “I’ll get the fire started.”

“Can ya stand?”

“I think so,” Quaraun said shakily.

“Al’right. Get changed out of ya wet clothes. Then ya take over tending the fire.”

Quaraun’s eyes narrowed.

“I am not tending a fire.”

“Aye, ya are,” BoomFuzzy said, lifting him effortlessly to his feet. “And we’re gonna finish catchin’ dinner.”

Quaraun opened his mouth to protest, but BoomFuzzy kissed him, cutting him off.

“Ya’re stayin’ on shore,” BoomFuzzy said, brushing wet silver strands from Quaraun’s face. “No more fishin’ for you.”

Quaraun sighed dramatically and allowed BoomFuzzy to lead him toward a patch of soft grass near the edge of the shore.

GhoulSpawn smiled.

“You’ll make a great firekeeper, Quaraun.”

Quaraun shot him a scathing glare.

“Do not push your luck, Glinta.”

Quaraun and BoomFuzzy

The Pink Necromancer, Moon Elf silk weaver & merchant: Quaraun on Noodle Beach. His master chef Phooka turned Lich husband: BoomFuzzy with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. And their on again/off again mad scientist Sheep Demon lover: GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. Time Travel setting swings back and forth between 40th century Maine after a comet hit the moon decimating the planet, and the 1970s, Maine. Quaraun in the main character, he and BoomFuzzy are a married gay couple. GhoulSpawn is their shared live-in lover. Art by Wendy Christine Allen.

BoomFuzzy

Quaraun

GhoulSpawn and BoomFuzzy

GhoulSpawn

GhoulSpawn and Quaraun

Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

The Pink Necromancer: The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane aka The Twighlight Manor Series

🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸

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