It was always so very hard to stay happy in the Crypts. Quinn did her best though! She decorated her space with yellow tapestries and bright green rugs. She hung blue and white tassels from the ceiling and had paper over her lanterns to create cloud designs on the walls. She always wore something bright—which all her contemporaries detested. Bright blue, pale pink, a yellow sash, orange skirts, anything to make the Crypts brighter and happier than they were. And happiness was important, it really was, no matter what the other necromancers tried to say.
Yes, the job was morbid. Preserve those who were dead, take them to their final resting place, allow those who miss their deceased family members to have a conversation or two for the right price. Crypts and mausoleums were places where the dark and the dank, and drow like her were supposed to stay down below. But Quinn loved the way her onyx black skin looked in the sunlight. Her silver hair had a shimmer to it in the sun she couldn’t get from lantern light. Her pale pink eyes were easier to see when they didn’t glow in the dark below. Even if the village people didn’t like seeing her up in the sun, and even if she was told by her contemporaries and family to stay below, she still took a weekly walk. Quinn was determined to be happy in the sunlight, no matter what. (Some said she was happy just to spite the trade. It didn’t matter how much she told them she just wanted to put a shining light on something that everyone was convinced to see as awful.)
Often times Quinn could be found standing outside her mausoleum, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. The smell of the Crypts wasn’t bad, and she was very used to the smells of bodies in various states of decay, but the smell of the outdoors was so much better. She always smiled when she was outside, which sometimes got her into a small amount of trouble. When people came with their loved ones to bury she would have to coach herself through the conversation and adjust her behavior. Inviting smile, something that shows you understand but that you aren’t happy to see them. A smiling mortician tended to make them angry…even if she was just trying to comfort them! Necromancers were supposed to be sullen and serious, but somehow that never worked for Quinn. Why couldn’t people celebrate death?
Of course, everything couldn’t remain easy as pie. Quinn was so comfortable with her life, rather happy with the social pariah status that she had, and pretty successful at being a mortician when the other shoe had to drop. Shoes had an odd way of doing that, dropping to show that things were going wrong. Where did that saying come from anyways?
Shoes didn’t much matter though. Quinn had bigger fish to fry than shoes. Not that she would fry shoes. Anyways…