The royal ambassador sits with holding back his headache. The results of human recruitment didn't go as planned, but at least one big player of no side has finally sided to them. It comes with threads of some other unknown scarier brat that can't be trusted. Sheer mention of the fallen Dragonfly Kingdom was not an expected event to happen from the humans.
"This is still a good result." The monarch is whom would say this but the second command voiced on the monarchs behalf. The monarch of the unicorns crest has been through plenty of rough patches in order to be seated at that throne. At the cost, a lack of working voice and other disablement factors. Even so, they have the highest authority of this kingdom, even without a voice or working joints. The council meeting of higher society is taking part in this tea party. The monarch sips tea listening to all the miniature conversations but has full attention to the main topic. Visitors of allied kingdoms nod in agreeing to such statement of results.
"Snagging ourselves a middle blood is rare even if they are often bad taste or not helpful. Although I suspect you may have just met someone very influence in the demigods domains."
"The Seers are not what they seem, not even a weak fragile girl."
"The arrangement of the more healthy one to be all the fighting suits better. Humans are weaker the older they are."
"Humans can be weak and yet have the willpower to overthrow any laws of logic."
Many posed hands and fast pace conversations. Plenty on talking about the demons and the delay of prison time for those that need it. Expelling these demons are of the highest priority but its really down to humans to figure out how.
The unease even filters among those unseen, the dream creatures attached to them are also gossiping about the little human girl. Her soul voice that breaks the rules of curtain veils. It makes even the common of mindless animals between curtains to flee a distance. The younger years were weak as she aged older, the direct stare is having curse like affect. Although, she seems to know this herself. Her approach to curtain creatures is mature and gentle. Respected even.
"The mute merchant hunter hasn't put their stall out for sale in a while. They must have been swept in sigil many a doorways."
"The id is blocked, so maybe they are on a mission."
"I heard that they sell candles that stop undertakers. What exactly does that mean?"
"The human way of saying it but it's a blocker. It puts a barrier within the light when lit. It can't be stopped until it burns out or that you can act past the curtain law. As this blocker shuffles the veils and prevents reach of those within the lights rays. I hoped to buy the demon candle. They sell salts and powders of the same blocking properties. None has been able to work its recipes. But it seems a human thing. As the Seers have similar candles of weaker affect."
The turmoil of lacking this merchant and the merchandise offered. The frown of several pondering that the enemy will be feeling this way too. As this sell of undertaker blockers is a good thing to have stopped for now. If anything, a convenient timing or lucky event. Everyone seems to be gloating over having the edge over the enemy. The larger goal is to release souls from the middle realms either back to the living land or to the empty spaces of hell. Whichever the amount of soul names in the slim tome of displacement needs to spread. The pocket realms have to many residents and this is putting strain in over affairs like connecting to the god realms.
The turn of the room as head gawk to a heavy panting message runner. They hit the floor in having last strength, but as the spoke of turned events going on among the living. Most clap cheering for justice served and others that knew more looked deeply concerned.
"The financial ledger for the prison was the most incriminating part of the investigation." She was in the kichten as grandpa and his old police friends are in the living room. They have news playing and celebrating the big case crack down. Her brother stands at the door frame of the kitchen also hearing this, mostly taking in the perspective of those on the side of law. It wasn't about harming those in need of punishment but using punishment to help these people do the right thing. This wasn't what he was expecting to hear. Given his biological father was all about fearing the police and that they were brutal corrupt themselves.
"What did you do to the demons that were protecting the paperwork?" He asked her as she cooking the party food.
"I broke the contracts they were under and gave them options. They choose wisely. I got something in return for such accomplished feats. So it wasn't just out of the good of my heart." She opened the oven several different ways. He didn't think anything of it but she is using multiple ovens in the same spot. She rolled eyes in his strange expression, "Dude, your not ready for my level of insanity. You wouldn't even know if the god of Death by his full title was telling you a joke or not." She began to start getting things on cooling racks, oven mites tightly to stabilize the hold. Empty trays went to the sink to bubble in the water. She moved fast at the next trays. Her mask was packing goodies bags for these men to take home. Some have families and some live alone. Having leftover to take helps smooth things. Her brother looks back to the men in the living room. She puts a dish to his hands and knocked his side to go bother them.
"I had good reasons for why I couldn't be directly helping in the investigation. I wanted to protect my grandchildren." Her grandpa states as her brother carries the bowl of hot cheese bites to them. She smiles as his being reintroduced to police friends. Once she got rid of the demons blocking the paperwork in a suitable fashion, that temporary partner ring shattered. She watched her grandpa do the rest of the heavy lifting of this. His ring shattered to when they arrested the biological father. Its nice that her brother is safe.
"How does one shatter contracts between demons?" That three eyed bird shape is creepy to anyone else. But she smiled at the god and has even reached over. Pinching the fake beak. She held no fear and no harm. But her ability to touch the spirit was a scary thing.
"Mister omens, your so cute in this form. Who knew that a Native American god of the plains that flew to the Norse coastline can be so adorable." She lets him go, "If I made a plushie in your shape, you have so many fans loving you." She made something appear in offering to the being. The talon foot holds it with not being sure to eat it or hide it. He smells it and frowned in not being sure what she handed him. She back to placing foods in serving bowls.
"Little lady, just what exactly did happen to those demons. They weren't handed into the guild for bounties." Getting back to his topic of being here to bother her.
"You're being abnormal Mr Omens. What is a human girl meant to do with demons?" She opens the fridge for some creme and added to bowls. She passed the next bowl to her brother, as his sent to fetch more. He gestures that she should follow with. So she picked up some of the ready bowls too. She stares deeply to the god bird in knowing his up to something. He huffed and landed at her shoulder. Still holding the unknown thing in his talon. She approaches and smiles to everyone. Once party food was down, was shaking hands with brave men. Settles in among the group listening to the daily struggles of patrol cops. Her brother settles easier because she did. Soon they were laughing at drunk incidents that ended alright. There were serious ones between but good lessons to learn to not follow. It got late and everyone has family or jobs. The goodie food bags to go were a big hit.
"That lonely guy is going to have a tough night." She heard from her shoulder. Commenting towards a cop who will be working on the late night shift.
"Then you should watch him then me. I have nothing entertaining to happen. It's bedtime." The god fluffed as he knew something that she didn't. He instead sent a death crow to watch the cop and stayed stubborn to be on her shoulder. She got him off her shoulder as the feel of his talons on her was now hurting her. He doesn't mind being carried about. True to her word, she got ready for bed. Made last checks of turning everything off in the kitchen. She put away any leftover. It was about here as the kichten light turned off that a presence was standing there in the gloom. She cares little at overreacting, less of it being one many creatures that seek her.
"This has to be the reborn soul of that creature who devours souls." She picked up the god bird, tucked him under a arm. She swiftly turns to face the kichten. She then childishly plays with the light switch. Flickering it on an off. Between the flashes a light this unknown being makes attempts of approach to only be snatched by clothy shadow and pulled into the gloomy depths of some vague dark spot in the kitchen. Her brother at approach of glaring at her for childishly playing with the kitchen lights, blocked her hand from continuing. Leaving the light off and the slight sounds of some sort of scuffle in the kitchen. He pushed her aside and turned the light on, nothing in there at a glance. A dirty floor of dust but overall not that much to suggest for her childish antics. He turned the light out and only then noticed the three eyes raven tucked under her arm. He brushed his eyes in telling himself his over tired. The glamour of reality makes the bird appear more like a plain normal raven on his second try to stare at it. She smirks, pats his shoulder and walked away from the kichten. He huffed annoyed of to much thoughts about everything weird about everything. He glanced the kichten one more time in some slight off feeling. He peers about the gloom questionably but heads to bed all the same, just avoiding the bad vibes.
"Eliza. You need to stop having your pets leave mess around for folks to accidental see." Her grandpa telling her as she crosses the bedroom for her.
"It depends on which spot you mean and which thing you think you see." She puts the god bird down at some side table like his a decorative piece. The glare of the annoyed bird said everything to her grandfather to not ask further.
"There's a... broken puppet? I don't know. A freaking wood pile of what looks like body parts hang in the orange tree." Her brother passive aggressive in his more to the guest bedroom next door.
"That's actually someone I know." Her grandpa grumps in a back tone. He scratched the side of his head, "I meant the weird mask puppet shape you have hung up in the bathroom."
"Does the mask look plastic or clay?" She asked.
"Both?" He shurgs. She shrugs too.
"The sink sounds like it's dripping always in there." Her brother complaining since his next to it.
"The pipe work in the house is fine. Our guest just has an auditory sound of dripping about them constantly. Their made of ink, but he knows he can walk carpets and stuff or you pay out a fortune replacing it. Dudes a typical broken soul with the willpower to break things. Just another gloomy guy really. They sure love sending me soul names with interesting stuff wrong." She sighed in the off tone explanation that both men blinked a few times in trying to even comprehend the whole thing. But she clearly unbothered and closed her door, settled in for the night quite fast. The two men look the bathroom direction. They stand in shiver in concern while in this total silence that follows. Both quickly do as needed to be in bed, after a breif nod to each other. Not dwelling on it.
Whatever crisis that is meant to happen has totally vanished as cold as the dim damp drift of the house invades in for the night. Lord of omens glaring each and every inch. He can't even see a dream creature or hidden veil mo ster scurrying about the places - as that's should be normal.
"Not even a Dragonfly dances this house. There no purity for any unicorns." He took seat upon the main house chair, since it was the perfect veiw of the front door down the corridor, a peek into the kichten servet, and the place of the most hung photo frames. The eyes glazed over, unfocused with disinterest. There wasn't any photos here that looked put of the ordinary. Old and new family photos. Some of places this gentleman has been in tour as a solider for. There is even a sealed uniform, three medals of silver and one platinum star upon the military hat. The folded American flag at the corner of the same frame. All in honors of his services.
Maybe it was a flicker of the bird mind over worked or that there is a slip of a second that things seemed odd.
But this whole living room had a moment of colour shift, and those photos looked differently. The military uniform had more medals and was a womens fit. There was three flags folded at each corner. The cling of dampen mould filled a breath in, like the house had been abondoned and ruined. The walls peeled in black carpets of mould and the photos were vague shapes of a larger extended family. The area of what should have been the TV was a ruined cabinet full of skulls and trophies by some sigil path walker.
Sure laspe was brushed away, the appearance was of the typical house of an up right man. There isn't a frame out of place or a wall covered in anything like mould. The god had rested himself further into the chairs comforts, whatever impact of something didn't come to pass ad he assumed. He shook the unease off. Looking up to the TV one last time.
His eyes fixed of the TV as it was covered in patchwork blanket of sewn together rags. Every inch of this blanket over the TV was a crest. All these crests were famous and infamous alike. The dust of so many undertaker ashes caked it, leaving a sort of snow layer underneath its hung spot. The most creepy part was that even the Lord of Omen didn't reconginze all of these crests. There was some sort of tell for the makers opinion of each kingdom. Sewn over or through was dissatisfaction. The more ruined older ones were hard to make out. The few that were of pride were individual and hand stitched with dedication as smaller separate pieces. Some of these patches were failed attempts of assassination, fallen missing undertakers or there must have been a terrible fate attached about these folks.
"Do you like my resume?" The gloomy cloaked figure on the sofa, a wrapped bandaged hand twists in swaying a crystal carved cup. Its hood couldn't allow the view of thier face. The voice was of a lady but not old or young. She held no shape about her in the how the cloak floats ethereal and wisped in unfelt breeze.
"Who were they all?" The gods false beak didn't stop before he could think about what he could have asked instead. Even so, she eased a reclined pose to peer up at the fabric of crests. She seems to study it a while as the bird god collected himself from so many other questions he should be asking.
"They all asked to duel me. Some were fair and honest souls. They taught me plenty. Even the few that had a screw missing and walked the seeder side of justice. They are teachers and vague reminders of those taught lessons." She puts her drink down at the table, "They are mostly souls who moved up or down. Only three are still working undertaker monarchs. The game they play with me isn't as straightforward as some duel. I am mostly retired from my main work. If I were to go back to such times, I have to become wise and strong. Learn the new laws." She tilts as being bored of this topic. She posed with careless left hand throw to underneath that cloth. The dust disturbed, sprays away revealed the skulls. Stacked high and placed in different carefully manners, "These are the remains of the demons that gone unaccounted for. They were tricked by a will-a-wisp. Crossed over the curtains. They no longer walk among the inside boundary. The bones are just the pale reminder of what they used to be. You can find them shambling like soulless do if you wanted something personal off them. You don't tend to bother sending folks who are soulless husk. That's unless you plan to use such things for something or that one was uniquely interesting." She watched the bird take shape into a male undertaker. Although, his clothing isn't the uniform nor was there a crest. He has plenty of feathers and charms dangling about. Flurries of cold gives the air cloud, blurring his presence to a fine mist than a humaniod. His finger plucked each skull in closer inspection, deep scowls and eyes that reflect his inner thoughts. He tucked them away like a cartoon with magic pockets. She smiles, seeing more the thought of her memories then the gods presence. But she seems sad, her eyes lower and there was a frown. How she expressed herself was harder to understand, given this isn't a human form.
"The crest of an undertaker is something to be treasured. It is the kingdom who gave them their bodies and raised them from human souls. There is some who would rather loose their soul and its name to keep the krama honor of the crest." She speaks naturally in a voice that is both sorrow and eased causality. But she soon is tied tongue. Folding herself tightly to a bunch.
The whole room shrinks in depth too, as the darkness swallowing away the false room objects. The shining of day break dyes the walls red softly. Reflecting the photos. The male military uniform looked darker in this light, medals seem softly rusted. The TV shows a god bird lifting its head from the big comfort single seat chair, not a piece seems out of place. He would have completely forgotten it all if the crystal cocktail glass wasn't still resting to the coffee table. He shook a bit from hazed thought and swift action. Taking a skittering fluster to check every human in each room. He pants perplexed of how they weren't dead yet or that some unknown creature had left undiscovered. He took into flight straight through the bedroom of the elder to this household. Seated stunned at the bed end. It has been an uneventful night.