It has pass over little into a month since the vanishing airport act. In term of living a normal human life, its been normal if you had no supernatural problems. She rather enjoys it, making it last a little longer before the inevitablity and act of fate rears quater. Devode of any dream visitors, no rude spirit bodies invading her private space and the time runic seals to slow the work alterations in her current collection of tomes. Finding herself as the only company at any given day.
Although living in England is much easier to get by then Florida with minimal money. The same amount of pocket money for as she would in either country seems to stretch longer in the UK than the USA. Watching the workflow of life her parents have in day and the night spirit life as assisting undertakers. Even their day jobs at ties with something about undertakers. But it is 100 percent clear that Lea is cut from such trust. The vanishing test was inconclusive and thus made her been deemed unreliable or accountable.
In terms of any concern towards her parents, she is not to be told what and why. She not allowed even to ask how they were. But she still loves her family. She still cleans where possible and cooks hot meals for them. She has largely became independent, at the point of that she cares not in forgery of signatures for school permission slips. The original letter filed in a binder of plastic wallets and dates of such trips being marked on the family calendar was enough.
As of her term into secondary school was now happening. Her lack of parents going to the open evening was the least of concern. She felt things were off with her last acknowledgement of seeing them didn't bow well. She noticed how ill or worried her parents were. It concerned her that last time she cooked a meal, it was left in the microwave the next morning. She had to rethink about what to buy for a meal tonight. The little money left at the side as always. She knew having some sort if paper delivery was going to start chipping towards her lunch issues. She can't rely on using shadow illusion currency on human goods. She knows how sensitive this country is with it.
Her mask spirit side is doing well, trade among the sigil paths has been booming sales. Especially her forgotten god icon charms carved from found or sourced realm travels. She made big currency among the damned with some big jobs in the shadows of fall heaven realms. She made nice deals with many of the gate guardians and local the abyss gateway to the void. She made good pen pal with the creature of the gate and has a short cut to her territory in the dreamlands without having her humanside affect or asleep. It's just a shame the currencies of spirits is unused by living world humans. At best trading the currency into antiques, which then is sold to an auction house. It's gotten her by on short just barely.
She leaned at the dinner table with the note pad open of her shopping list needs and that her sketch book of abstract landscapes was opened out to a realm she felt trouble in the tomes with lately. She lays half bent over the surface, a finger tracing the drawing of the realm. She turned facing the back slide door. The garden was full of crows, lingering murder all ready to scream whatever messages awaited. She stood up quickly and slips it open slightly, a thick stack of mail slammed at her feet. She can't be bothered to clean it up again whenever that happens. None of those letters weren't for her personally, even of that were the case. They be just trying to steal information about her parents. She shuffled them with her teo for is anything was worth effort for.
She gave up and back to the table. Looked down at her drawing as something moved. She really sits up as the drawing was of someone approaching through her art. She turned the chair and sets the book leaned so they exit it through. In looking at their mask face and the clothing this being has, it's clearly someone to do with the damned society. Those dead soul shadows whom struggle to move on. They pulled through the paper like char coal dust and flesh into a murky sooty black cloud when crossed over. They take a moment to not be dazed from the travel through. She moved another chair for them both. They sit together across. Awkward silence and no greeting is normal for damned. She stares not at sure who thay are.
"We can make you an undertaker but I have a condition to such things." She really studies the damned closer with more intent of what they used to be. She seen this guy before, this is one many monarchs. This has the monarch before the current one. This guy was great at tome keeping. The stab in the back was their death and clearly the regert is a undertaker realms concerned over.
"What is it really in for me? What benefits do I gain in not only being an undertaker but also fixing whatever you regert?" She plays a causal pose of not being bothered. Although, this doesn't fool a man who's been around a while. He sees she is interested and that this was playing coy.
"I am sure helping the damned undertakers that use to be ex pairs will come with its own benefits. But it's Riddle I am most concerned for." She lowered as she does have a soft spot towards her long-time imaginary friend and guardian. It's the part of her American childhood she enjoyed was some the interaction she learned from Riddle, "He has his hands mixing with death oath order. He has been struggling alone." The fella stays stern straight, "in spite of his past in his living life of being a pick pockets theif and the murderer of his only sister. He turned a bad life to the sake of saving lives. He stole to make money to raise her. He paid for her to go to school. It was school that taught her to fall. She should have fallen after dying, and he should have raised. But now, as undertakers, the role has reversed. His the famous executioner while she's keeping clean as the enforcement of law."
He can not help putting hands to his face in hiding the expression he shows. The curse of being damned, the happier they seem on the outside when they feel the opposite. It's like fear they feel makes them smile, but its fear they feel even worse inside with. She stands and brushes his shoulder. She moved around with her notepad and sketch book.
"Riddle fell out of existence around the same time my soul was shattered in dust. I used the last I could to return him over myself. He seems to have settled and has no recollection of the real events." She states, and the ex-monarch jolts in shock, "Don't get me wrong. I was an arrogant and easy to manipulate target. A perfect throw-away spy into both Fallown and Seer. With some careful try, you would have been granted some information about the core index if you had asked me. I didn't see you a lot for what you are, just some peacekeepers that protect humans from angels and demons. I wasn't wrong but not in the image, I assumed." She puts the chairs she can back, "I am glad his continued with only small or unnoticeable side affect. He may be more paranoid and scared of everything than before. But. He will be OK." She held her old scars, "I have already forgave everything he did to me. I am past the point of holding care for what the families want from me. I have other things to care more about. Move on, so to speak." She sees that the ex-monarch is no longer comfortable in his request he was going to ask, "I will tie a vow with him again in this life. It's fate. We dance well. I understand his calculations, and I like watching the results of his little schemes. His more a Trickster than I am." She straightens and stacks books up. She brushed it to her storage. The depth of many thoughts came to pass, the ex-monarch coming to term of what goddess there still is and the fear of coming reactions.
"In my command, as noble among damned and once a monarch of undertakers, I ask of you to ease the sorrow of many. Too many shadows among the undertaker realm." He certainly gave it his best in commanding her. She sighed in knowing that be more a problem.
"They call me Lady Marionette." She sort moved topic, "I am the tool the gods who fallen use to be returned back. I am the editor of broken soul names. The nightmares at the edge of time, guarding the unknown." She steps away toward the corridor that the main hallway for this English terrice house, "Does making me play hand among undertakers seem wise?"
The ex-monarch jolts slightly ahead of her, blocked her a little as now it was him with hand on her shoulder now, gifted her a ring in his other hand. She seen it before. Riddles old partner. And now... some things made sense of why Riddle was so always busy back then when she was younger. He was playing the part of monarchs partner. She holds it close, feels the cold aura and pitted fear. The ex-monarch nods very sure.
"There is something attacking damned in my realm. I thought nothing of it what I was there. Now... now I am damned. I know how much a large threat this has become. You're a poacher of S ranking contracts according to Sigil." He did his homework about her spirit trades then, "I rely on you in many ways. More than I realized I should from the time you returned here."
"The tomes are breaking, that's why." She shook with the ring trying to be returned, "It's a matter of when I will die totally in soul or the circumstances the universe will collapse. Maybe some curtains will fall and you might exist a small while longer. But none of you are ready for the vultures beyond existence." He pushed her hand back, the ring with her.
"The fall of true gods had happened already. They are gone. No one can find them or enact divine miracle." She isn't at all surprised, "How long have you known?"
"The index thinks I am a curse. My soul is spread across this universe, a letter hidden in plain sight. It doesn't see the hidden veils nor the collapse of cog rankers. Which is why I am the cog ranker index holder. Their names are erasing a letter at a time." She holds the ring with the emotions she felt, "But because this is my original universe. I am constrained to being a human living. I can't enact the ways I did for other universes." She looked them in the eye, "It hasn't stopped me trying but it's became the attention of those that shouldn't need to be a part of it."
The ex-monarch nods at how nice she being honest. She has always been honest. To honest. But in this situation, it's nice that she not actually actively scheming to make things worse. That in her own admission in between words, she has worse then cursed damned eyes. She is concerned about things even undertakers and gods can't interact with. She acts to some larger image, that to others would make her out as another Trickster. She putting her traits to a grander use, most certainly breaking law in order to fix.
"This means that the application will be even easier." The ex-monarch summoned the sigil panel. It floats as solid stone, like a metal bit caught in a magnetic field. He tapped away and fills it out. He added in some information in her personal database if anyone was to enquirer about her. He was lightening fast and confirmed it before she could check it. The panel faded away.
He pats shoulder one last time and he walks a shadow out of here. She sighed in being alone again, she has her shopping list out again. She holds that ring constantly at her heart, taking it easy to the kitchen for checking what needs. She doesn't bother looking up as she thinking about her list, turning from corridor into frame of the kichten door.
"Mail!" She walked to the door frame of the kichten, looked at this mass gather of undertakers in her kitchen. She took one look of her parents among them and began to turn away.
"Mail!" The mock of a carrier dug talon right through her right shoulder. It aggressively with love rubs all over her. She staggered and waved in the loving attack.
"Loki, ease. Stop. Will you stop it. I can't feed you meat if I can't tell what I am doing." So aggressive with pattern taps of his tail feathers too, "I can't be sorry for living a normal human life. Get off." She resorted to full grapple and pull. Throws it to the floor. Her hand now holding the blood back in her shoulder wound, "I am in a human from, stupid cat." She a little dazed in all that thrash about. She accidentally bumps into Riddle of all people.
"Does having problems with death's ravens happen often?" He voice was cold chill and made everything in her mind lapse a second.
"Ugh..." She got off him, "You are so blind." She dropped stuff in that little attack, including the ring and notepad. She glared at the mock bird for watching it going for her again. It plays cat cute in a bird body, rolling with feet open in the air above itself. When she picked up the ring, it stares intensely of it. She quick act of caughting it mid jump and throwing it through any given doorway nearby. She hears it leave for now, scrambling away.
"It's not everyday that I am subject to witness a god eater being thrown out of my doorway." The death god hissed. She wavered in now moving to the kichten sink and breaks out the overall well stocked medical first aid. She had no discrimination in taking her shirt off at least to clean, check and sow some of these things herself. She had to stop a few times in being dazed and drained of blood. She ignored conversation entirely around her.
'You're not going to live with a wound from a god eater.' A sort of cloth, large blanket or towel maybe. The needle she been sewing her shoulder closed dropped into the sink. Waves of heat that pulse from the wound have spread across all over.
She not able to keep stood up without assistance, falling backwards. Her wounded side is holding that ring tightly as she can. She felt welcome in that icy static he bought to her. Dampen the pain she felt over all while any over reaction of emotion was washed away. She knew this feeling as being bewitched, he was the only undertaker that could successfully do it to her. She seen how it worked on others and the host body procession being normally the goal of it. She was too aware and distrustful of everyone else.
"Lea." Knowing her mom does turly feel bad and unable to make her daughter feel better. Was moved away in order to not stress anyone else in personal emotion. It's impossible not to intervene in fate if given the chance. But many letters of Lea's soul name across many chapters were swapping places or that she was across the universe have herself trade swap letter places. Lea does her hardest not to lay over Riddle. He had no access or permission in her tome, his not going to be able to carry her anywhere if she fully used him entirely.
"There seems an off key of things at work. It's not of my divine miracle that she is able survive that." Death god here pondered. Lea is lifted to a kichten chair, someone else took over some of the sewing while Riddle stays at her side - keeping her in a trance bewitched. She wide awake, but she certainly isn't doing anything. It's a equalivent of being under sedatives but in a spirit controlled energy manner. She wasn't listening to them talking but she is watching things they aren't. She particularly watching the flow of energy wisps. The energy charge from Death's domain interactive with the undertakers realms energies carried by the pairs of undertakers. There was someone who came from a heaven realm, white bolt of energy jolted across the floor in attracting of the death domain energies. It the watch of how the energy was being tied over her parents, like they were batteries in a charger. While the spirit body folks were batteries off charge, giving a spread net of wavelengths.
She could tell who was with what pair and who pretend to be pairs. She attuned to the dreamers attached to the undertakers and the creatures of fortunes. The eclipsed creatures whom watched in vague interest to what these undertakers and death god was visiting this realm for. Even a spider above the fridge lowered in staring particularly as the pairs of undertakers.
"I am glad that last fella left." A real nightmare in crow form sits on the chair back at her side, it leans forward to speak to her, "A proxy master requests service and hunt on your domain. Either in guide to the creatures that caused problems or that you poach it for them. The open blank check is the term they used."
"What language is that?" distraction of someone hearing the bird form.
"I doubt it matters to us if we did know." The sewing of her shoulder starting to finish and a numbing gel was applied. She flinched at touch of the cold and she definitely getting out of her bewitching. She was obedient to let them help her. She made her own guesses in association being tied hands around here.
"Is this one the regulars whom comes buy things from me or is this an associate by recommendation? If neither, then I take no welcome about what or why." She spoke open English in reply to the bird and it bows, jumps forward in leaving to gather more information. She used a shadow trick to get her shirt back but she can't wear it with her arm being out of use. She sensed it mirror to her mask too. How it poured anti-vemon and detoxify bandage wraps over its sores.
"Regular that comes buys? Sorry what?"
"I wasn't listening to you lot. I was talking to the message carrier. It's gone to gather more information. In the meantime." She huffed in barely standing up, notepad opened to her list. She holds shirt to herself as she going about the food pantry for potential ingredients. She has a stack of tins that work well together. She checked over the spice rack too. She leans back to the notepad to cross out things and add more. The invisible pen working just fine on the paper surface. She went to nearly leave the kitchen, blocked by Riddle.
"And you just going to continue like it was a scratch." He is obviously concerned.
"You clearly hadn't hung around me when I wandered around sigil then." She noted, "Reminds me." She give him not only the ring she just received from that monarch but like there was a collection of undertakers in damned form who moved on, all in the ring collection, "The black feather beside is that they were carried off by ravens." Meaning when he goes to check the names, he will find they all have raven marks, "Except this guy." poked the ex-monarch ring, "He doing whatever they do. I don't really care to bother asking or know what or why. The guy did worry about you personally, I gather at least that much."
"You give me a headache." He puts them away with care. It's plenty of pass to escape. She went upstairs to change outfit from the blood on her. She tries to go about her normal life. She does so with the sense of calling her shoulder scratch a home appliance accident. She dare not bother trying tie herald with undertakers until there was a degree of certain accepted trade of information between her and them. Until then she was not going to indulge in thier orders.