Find Your Place

02|New Outfit!?

THE DANCER EXPLAINED WHO he was, why he danced and stole, and why the hell he was being sentanced to death. He said Communism was something he didn't like. Queen Tristan didn't agree with the dancer along with Bill, but she still thought that the dancer was given a warning, not a death trial.

     The dancer, Elliott Pope, was sitting at the table, poking the beard, boredly. He knew not to test me and it's almost eight now. If The Queen did not show up, I was gonna kill Pope. No questions about that, but, strangely, the sneaky crook wasn't intrigued and wanting to steal anything. He only stole because of his family also. Instead of the bread testing me now, it was Pope.

     I let out a sigh and he didn't dare look at me as I leaned against the table. In my eighteen years of life, I could not believe this fool, could not believe anything The Queen said. Makinzie, the princess, ran away? That's impossible. What princess would want to run away? What dancer would defy The King? I was discombobuted with consternation. These things were rare. Why they happen at the same time? And why was I brung into it?

     I knock flooded the silence and Pope popped up, hiding under the table. I swung the door open with a glare then my face brightened as it was The Queen. She explained that she was a bit earlier because she knew she'd forget if she didn't do it now. My chuckle was almost as loud as the knock, but it was cut short by Queen Tristan guard pulling a mummified body, two of them, with a sour face into the house. I watched him set them down at the table and Pope bit his hand to keep quiet. Well, shit. If Pope was found, he would be dead and the deal would be off. I shooed the guard out, practically hissing for him to get out of the house.

     The guard was only confused and I cracked the door, peeking out. "I have a zombie dog running around, ma'am. I don't think she wants someone unknown in here." Queen Tristan, hopefully, caught on and just played along with me. She nodded, gave me a farewell, and left.

     Pope thanked me, while I told him it wasn't a big deal, but it was to him. He seemed a bit more happier. Probably the small smile gave it away. "You know," He said, sitting back down in the chair, "for being a necromancer, you're true to your word and very caring." He was becoming the moldy bread.

      I sat on the edge of the table, on the other side, looking over at Pope. "Look, Pope. I may be a necromancer, but I'm still human. I have a heart. But that doesn't mean I'm always nice. Why do you think Communism is bad?"

     Pope's smiled faded to a frown, looking down. "Well, The King is a monarch, why would he interested in Communism?" He questioned me, making me laugh at his stupidness.

     "Well, King Bill thinks that idea of everyone being treated as such, as a communist Kingdom is pretty tempting. If you look at it, too, Karl Marx created Communism. The King is actually descended from Marx. Does that make sense?" He nodded. "Okay. Now help me get this body I'm sitting on to the back room."

     Pope nodded again and I hopped off the table. he and I carried a body to the room and then the other body and I warned him if he wanted to stay, he must be ready to see things of distaste and dark sorcery. He said that it'd be cool to watch me 'raise the dead' and I shook my head. I asked him to get the salt, tooth tissue forceps, a needle with a curved point, iris scissors, and the dissecting knife. He complied and then I unwraped a mummified body and started dissecting.

(I know there are a minour few that would like for me to see the dissecting, but most, almost all, would not. So I'll skip it.)

With a pop, Pope awoke and I grinned at the smell of death flooding the room. Pope looked over at me in confusion. It was 9:03pm and I had finished creating the potion. I dipped a large spoon into the pot and, with a sigh escaping my lips, and out it in a flask. I needed a tester.