She sits overlooking all this stuff she keeps accumulating, and was ready to have it moved on from her storage by now. It's just finding the right people for it. The swords will be fine to give to humans, once it been in contact with the living realm - the mythical properties will be reduced to safe. She has a lot of feathers. She maybe was going to gift them to Omens but his less then trusting. Some those feathers were his, so they be given to Mat. Baring the god eater one that the length of a car, that's hers to keep. She has no use of making this set into quills. She does feel she could need the flight feathers for angel emergencies. There a lot of soul stones from the beach and places she saved them from creatures eating sigil walkers. She could line the pathways with these crystals and sees what happens. But something like that could cause things. The broken items are repaired or has been handled off to clothus territory. Leave it to the broken to have use for broken things. It's why she keeps a tome of clothus around, protected by discontinued neighbourhoods. She also personally made good with these clothus in person and by soul trades. They weren't the trouble makers but the ones that punish them.
"Leana?" She puts her creepy stuff back in shadow. They were currently in one those open stores. She was told to stay in confides of the store but to roam and find whatever she needed. This was so she could do some undergarment shopping without Mat blushing the whole time.
He does it a lot as a human but as a undertaker he can better control himself. Maybe its body types. A grown body is different to a hand crafted on from a undertaker sculpture? Maybe its mind set as a human is very different to an undertaker that been around a while. The amount of partners he used to look after as a shadow hand. It's a lot of factors. Who called my name just now? They even used my human name properly.
She takes back to clothing folding. She was looking for more clothes to have. She moved back from the display table as she wasn't sure who just called her name like that. She can't see them. Proving she was sceptical of trusting the unknown source. She then notices the fate of regret chain (an ethereal bond made by runic metal links) that connects her with them. It was the direct to go either Mat's side or one of many vessels that is Omens. She quickly picked up the little few bits she picked this far and softly walks around the open store following the chains. She was following back traces of places he had been a while ago. She smirked as she could tell he was confused in what to pick for her, taking a while at the railings of her size range.
"What about this girl?" She was an isle over and now shuffled through the selection in ear shot. It was the warm sleeves sort of clothes. She needed some of this anyway. Epically here in England... she still not over the whole not remembering the 7 hour flight over here thing. She thought it be something that couldn't be forgotten. But it was the price of binding her powers and holding back her soul from active awareness.
"I can't just leave her behind to host." Mat has a dress of black hung over his arm, he was here at the cardigans and shoals to find a matching part. He would lift them in checking the size and then with the dress.
"Maybe had you considered asking the creepy girl that she could come with? Like a lucky charm." The light frown at the mage demon combo, "The girl you see and what my demon eyes are seeing are very different beings. She's not human inside there. I am shocked she even born a human. When spirits get stuck in the interval between human summer to autumn, they are forced into a living creature. Sometimes as shared host or into empty vessels that happen to be in soul wavelength." The mage with the demon is trying to scheme something. Even so, she found a neat hoodie coat. Thick warmth and plenty of pockets. Price was a good enough range.
"This store is seven large departments and you found him." Omens hopping the hangings and was staring about her chooses thus far. He peers in how very causal and nesh her style is. Being practical but not outside of trends. He argue she was a trend setter in how well mixed the outfits mix match.
"Tracking is a two way street." She softly replies and carried the coat on the fold over her arm with the shirts and some jeans. Omens scratched his chin perplexed. His not able to quiet grasp what her deal is to him. His not comfortable but he felt she was reliable. He coos lightly in his Humm and Mat steps around looking over.
"Neat. That saves time." He leans on the rails and peers at her, "Would you company me on a walk?" She looks him into the eyes in weighting the choose of his meaning. There a lot in the weight of his words and a lot of brow wiggling to imply further then just some simple walk. He knew she understood his term. Unspoken rules to not sound crazy in ear shot of general public.
"I don't mind where we go. There a lot of places I wonder too." Back down to the clothing rails. She unfazed to this, "Crossing to the other side has consequences. You know that." He jolts in being caught in that much and was surprise by her relaxed depth of this, "But we both are fine. It's the method of cross over. Are we keeping the people we are now or are we properly moving on?"
"Don't talk about dying so causally." The demon mage frowns. She looked at the demon with deep questionable glare at them. He flitches in guessing that her methods were not death in mind. She clicked tongue in having to voice explaining for Omens and Mat sake too.
"What? No. I guess we could ask a grim reaper. Not that they have the time. Pay by the soul and all. Death a busy man and has been spread thin enough." She frowns at the demon past those human eyes, "Sheesh there are other methods to cross veils and boundaries. You are an idiot." She turned back to clothing rails in notice of something that glimpsed in her masked sight. It was interesting material from beyond the living, here mixed among this charity section.
"Rude." She rolled eyes in Omens trying to tell her off.
"We will be asking the Undertakers." Mat was at her side and holding a dress to size check her. She peered about in wonder how he got to her side that fast with the end isle further. She sees some the rail swaying in suggesting he used the clothes there to her isle. She checked the price labelled when its across her and sizing to her arm length. Her fingers danced the material being used as he held it to her for her to take.
"What crest?" She muttered. Putting the dress over her clothing hung on her arm. Meaning she approved of it, which he pointed at the demon about that. So they clearly been talking about her clothes chooses and style.
"Undertakers have crests?" The demon mage wondered, more the human then a demon that knew already. Although the demon didn't pay mind to undertakers being divided, not knowing the deal between the kingdoms. Yet Mat knew what she implies in her question.
"The monarchy is a hybrid of spiders, domestic cat faction and Dragonfly. There been a lot of unsettled moves among the three kingdoms. You understand this, right?" Pulled the dress from her arm to take it again. Must be looking for matching accessories or something. Maybe he wanted to pay for it. They soon together to follow the same route out of these railing spot.
"I do understand enough. I just wondering if your going to pretend to make me your partner or if we are we good without playing pretend." His arm across her back as they shuffle to the check out. She beats him to paying with contact less bank card. He frowns at that but huffed in accepting that at least. He then looked at Omens in wonder when she had a bank card and if it was his. Omens shook at that since, it was her card in her names.
"Have a great day." The cashier waved them off and was onto the next customer. The till acted up with a malfunction as they exit, but aren't responsible for the machines play up. They gladly aren't called back to rescan anything.
Once they were back to this current flat; on one of lower floors mixed among the magic craft components shops and god follower private residence. You can hire god followers for blessings and that's why their among the spell shops. They were quickly in with the door unlocked fast. She hung the selection of goods in her closet on the plenty then needed provided hangers. Coat resting the back of the door hook. The demon mage was yammering at Mat's room door. Mat was getting crossing gear on. She hears everything they were talking about. Like it was a bad idea to take her along. Her mask side lowered from clinging on the ceiling, long finger tips presenting an armour dress. The expression of being happy to go trades among the undertakers like the old days. She felt the it.
"Hey Lea." Her shadow grimaced in hiding back up the ceiling and glaring at the rude door opener. It was the matching expression she had in looking over shoulder. The door is partly closed better again, "Sorry. You will need this." A cord necklace on the door handle, closes the door again. Her shadow approached and poked it, mulled over the amulet use and puts it on all the same. Back to the fiddling ties and bone buttons. She then polished over with clothus trade lace that been dyed in black from shells on her beach in the abyss. Material that existence over there and not here. It also was light but strong. She held over her stomach of where there used to be a hole through her. It soul memory a reminder of its history. Her dress has this gap on display, which would make some uncomfortable of it was there or not. For the sake of the living world, she puts on the newly bought dress on top of this. It will not be visible when they on the other side. Something feels like it's missing.
She approached her reflection and senses missing things, making her take that puzzle box out and rummage the content. It was mostly tools and gifts that were soul bond promises. She had several rings without the soul stone insert. She puts them on the cord necklace since they are of the same promise as the current amulet he had her wearing. She picked up a broach of black stone, recalling this was a monarch of undertakers title she obtained. She clipped it hidden on herself, hoping someone will win a duel that mattered. Maybe someone more worthy and lingering that side of the afterlife can finally take that title from me. I did knock the cat monarch as a stupid human girl that didn't know undertakers take duels to literal. The knock on the door. She brushed the broach in hiding it, but the door stays closed this time.
"Are you ready?" Muffled at the door.
"I think so." Her shadow putting last touches such as several types of weapons, path walker belt poaches and that the puzzle box altered into a half mask. It only covered her eyes and matched the death god funerals wear. She would be humanly blind wearing this mask, but she hardly relies in human sight when she over there.
"I don't think Omens can use the undertaker gates. Not unless his using a vessel." She states in walking into the living room. She stops short of the threshold and instead leans at the frame. Peering about the crowd greeting Mat like old friends. She stays out of the way for their time. He was taken from them by time. No all undertakers convert to human lives or make the time changes.
"For good measure." Pride giving it her all to gut punch him. His held over in being human in pain from such tough love, "You forgot your hat." Shoved on his head. He maybe alive of healthy warm skin but that hat was exactly him. Long and hides the eyes. It works for him. He looked nearly as he should as an undertaker. The god follower marks that aren't human visible were a match to the painted ones as he would in a porcelain made body.
"Teixeira, that's where you went." This is from Omens but those eyes are the guy that hangs around her off time beach, "I see you made it in time." He winked at her and she smirks at that, "I actually need one of your scales." She peers in making sure it's him. He waved that they should be moving in. She taps her mask to alter its colouring to change her sight type. She was spying out soul aura of everything. It's makes sense now. This is Omen's in true title, more then on soul is active in this one vessel. This is normal for true title gods.
"Sure. One of my scales. Just asks and doesn't seem to have some sort exchange." He passed her a dagger, "Oh yeah? Now we borrowing favours from the other titles." She takes the scythe made for a high ranking reaper in the order of death's domain. This was plenty enough, she gifted him a flake of one those so called scales. He can tell its hers. She added the dagger in its spot along her belt. Once this exchange was complete, plenty of the undertakers had seen her. They all had that eerier instant click reaction in watching that exchange.
"You!" Pride with weapon out to Lea's throat, "It was your fault!" there was no human tone but the shiver in prides handling of her weapon was the undertakers way to tone their voice. Lea took such things with seriousness; normally she wouldn't be if she didn't know. She doesn't over react either. She know Pride isn't lawfully able to harm human flesh. She still standing in the living realm and acting in living realm laws.
"My fault? You should be more exact. Maybe if it a soul thing, then maybe." Lea slaps the blade away in taking a calm approach, "It's not like everything is what it was." Omens pushed her right over to Mat's side which evaded most of the undertakers that were going to block her. He puts a feather in her hair and his hair. Tied into with thread. Hung in such a way for it to be visible to them both at all times, colour changing to the aura it encounters. She wipes her mask to change back to a normal way she prefers as now the feather is providing something she was achieving with changed eyes.
"Well likely it is nothing to do with her." Mat takes her wrist and walked them both through a star specked black disc. She stares to Omens waved them off behind. He used her scale to enter her pocket storage and once they were to the other side, Omens steps out her shadow and lowered over both of them. Protective as always. Omen's was no longer visible in this realm as he would for the humans in that body. Maybe this being sneaky approach was his preferred way for now. She can always see him regardless, so it mattered little for her.
Upon reaching the undertaker's realm, it was not the place she thought that ever come back again. Seeing this kingdom not in the ruin that she knew it fell into. The last time she was in a such a place, there was sooty char remains of broken energy. Marble dust of what was the walls. The thing she doesn't miss and is glad not present is the empty undertaker torsos. Many 'corpses' stacked without limbs, necks or features that defined individuals. It was crawling with god eaters. There was a ton soul snatchers eating the damned here. It was likely those damned were the echo hollowed souls of those torso parts.
Not now. It is like her first ever time. White walls with lead pitched tables. There three lines that divides. This spot is the first line, the walk way of the sigil path that all spirits pass around or by. This was the trader stands of sigil guild and merchants that trade with the undertaker kingdoms. There was plenty of demons and angels trying their part in fish an undertaker partner, to wiggle into the monarchy system. There has been cases of angels and demons becoming undertaker monarchs. They never lasted long. There should be the corridor after the oak desks; filled of photos. Group photos of graduated undertakers. Those photos were ripped when she last gazed on them, the souls of every last one was red pen on the tomes, the work of a cruel clothus playing god. It wasn't that anymore.
That corridor was the true start of the undertakers realm of law. The second line is those oak desks, the airport boarder control between path and realm. Policed with trusted agents. Always paired. She always loved that part of undertakers, a bond of soul. The third line marks the undertaker populous of low ground foot workers and the top of the crème of the kingdoms best. Hardly anyone passes the third line unless they are direct permission from a monarch or work for them. Upper nobility tend to live past the third to divide themselves from lower ranker undertakers. Its also to stop the excessive nickname duel trades. Duels carry weight.
"The marble surfaces are back. Wow, that takes me back." She brushed the surface of the undertaker realm. This layout was the way it was. Most of the merchant traders were gone when demons were used for extermination of the outer undertaker courts. The final blow was the enslaved undertakers that pulled it all from the inside out. It is as if before she was given her titles around the tome and was before she was sold as soul bond slave. Before she was part clothus. She even repeated what she did the last time, she traced the brick with her left hand. Following the flow of energy she witnessed being there.
"Wow there." Mat stops her, "Let's not play with things." She smiles to that being a repeat too. She nods to him mutely.
"How did you do that?" Omens sees what she marked, "Can you teach me?"
She shook not and they are whisked away from this spot over to the boarder control. The registration to be allow visitor law into the undertaker domain. She has a lot of the paperwork already and could have just used the shadow walk. But she held by Mat and his not letting her wonder off. He doing it his way at his paper work. She only really needs to stamp it. Her return of her path stamp, the skull of a cat that is the perch of a dragonfly. Its her dark merchant stamp too. All her trade receipts have it.
"Oh... that's not a normal stamp." She stamps the paper with another one. It's her tome oath one for death order stuff. This was more a death moth in open cat jaw, "Really?" She shurgs. She once had scribbled randomly, that time back then as she was to afraid write anything she couldn't read. It's different now. She had that later to make these stamps as her no name signature. The time between then and now; seems to never mattered. A blink in dust, at least for undertakers. She had the time to since they staring confused at her. She used one last stamp. This one she only used in courts, it was her abyss title. It's a shield like shape with little pictures of reference to the other stamps she used. It's not a shield but a scale. The stamp is a scale carved into this tool. It's her monarch stamp to them. It made things faster. They are show to move onwards. It took the same amount of time as last time.
"I hope you have a few nicknames spare." He dragging them through as she looks at the lacking amount of group photos, without him here. There been less successful graduations. Or that time for undertakers has not passed as long as Lea knew it for. That they were experiencing a start again.
That seemed more likely as there wasn't as many portal paintings as short cuts to other departments. The undertaker realms are famous for the Alice in wonderland part video ecstatic of having oiling paintings be doorways to rooms full of departments. The smaller paintings being bedrooms for off duty time. The more future undertaker realms limit the amount of canvas used and will have crawl bedrooms. Only big wigs had large spaced rooms from the extra canvas stretch. But this was a new start, they aren't even to that sort of thing yet.
"Step." She shook out of the daze as Mat's instructing her to walk the walls like it was floor. That's another bonus about about undertaker realms. Down is always at the feet, but not a direct like gravity to earth. Light here was always present but there isn't a source. The corridors have sparce furniture for this exact reason. There be a lot of book cases for trainees to use but that's all at best. No mini tables of standing photo frames and no distractions of graffiti on some the walls. Very clean. Sterile as it should be. There isn't germs, literally. The realm has no germs or micro life. Only humans like them now and those in the dip pools.
"This still confuses me." she walked onto the wall as he wanted and they continue rushing to the sparring hall. It's one the few rooms that isn't an oil painting door. He throw one the doors open without further delay and they stand watching the reactions undertakers had. Short lasting as undertaker just snap to things in quick non-emotional response. He finally lets her go. He was right to the wall for a weapon and takes defending stance. She sigh nods with a humm. She unsheathed a weapon of her choice once she steps into training room, this was from her shadow pocket and looked odd to others.
She looked to make sure it was just some bamboo stick and not a creature pretending (this happens to her a lot). She frowned in knowing it wasn't bamboo but a long bone from something. She pits it back and clicked her tongue in how that was annoying. She used her left hand blocking a dagger from its target as she removed a stick. Gladly its just a staff pole without a blade or runic mark. She isn't to sure what tree its from but it will do. She knocked the next guy out in three slaps with this stick. She sees they weren't sure of her, and thus she gives fault hope by leaning with the staff. Being comfortable to watch the whole ground and its fighting against them both.
"Screw this!" trading blocked blows with someone impatient. The style of attack from undertakers are not human ways of fighting. Humans feel pain in every spot they are hit but undertakers fight to attack joints. It's their joints that stops them from fighting and not pain. The loss of flesh means no pain for tasks like this. Easy to over work a doll body when there nothing to tell to stop. But the spend of energy to move around is equal. It takes the same energy for a human to run as it does undertakers. Not unless they trained themselves to run. But that's athletics purpose. She polished plenty of them to the floor and has time to see that Mat's not bad himself. Fully able to reflex himself to changing weapons. He his gods whispering to evade things. She smiled to that and blocked another attacker.
"Stop playing around." She upset someone, that negative energy poured in the words.
"I fight like my life depends on it. You're the idiots playing around trying to attack joints." She floors them with bare hand fighter tactic, "I am the human here. You're the undertakers with your porcelain joints." She got off them as the tapped out. They sit bewildered of that fact.
"That's how I will win!" another more pissed guy taking full swings at her, someone that posed a more a challenge. She matched their footwork, someone that trained to use the sword and cared about what their feet do. They take a lot more human slashing and a depth of trying to poke her organs. She has to take a hit at some point, but it was a trade. Her cheek at the under of her right eye sprays red. She took their head from the neck. It doesn't kill an undertaker, just as that scratch doesn't kill her.
"Stop!" The highest ranker among the undertakers stops this fight between her and them, "Too far." She put her weapon away. She took a clean pocket tissue to hold this wound closed. The undertaker has their head reattached by their partners help. She possibly took things to far the last time too, her eyes hazed in seeing the phantoms of the past and the refocus to the room in the now.
"It's a clothus, why is it here?" She removed her mask now, it floats at her side, "Human?"
"Stop judging what you think you see. Nothing is as it looks." she told them and takes hold of the mask before it wondered off to fix things. She loves fixing things. She holds her cheek in how it stings. Her gazed on Mat's back in how he was enjoying this. She couldn't help that smile, seeing the old him in the current way he foot steps evading another. She backed down in how Omen's has his back where she would have been.
"How did you met him?" Pride stood at Lea's back.
"Well, that's to long a story if you asking me. You should ask him. He would have a better current answer." Lea checking the blood colour and back to holding it from not dripping on the floor, "Worry about other things. I am not someone to bother with." Pride moved away and was soon throwing herself to be fighting him. She can hear the conversation about how Lea just keeps being around when its convent. He finally fell from exhustion, loosing to his sister. But Pride knew it was not a proper win, calling it a tie.