Her dreamer state took a quick wonder down the sand beaches, leaving her clay shell within the undertakers care. It shouldn't be be possible but she is part clothus, and clothus can dream. Undertakers don't sleep or have the need to unless it was for mental health. This is also why coffin beds are popular for undertakers then mattress beds. But there are folks that have normal beds as they did when they were among humans as a human. The rarest time that an undertaker would sleep genuinely would be due to extreme problems with their soul threads puppeting their body or that the soul itself was removed. Sadly when they are first made in the get clay state, they can become soul trapped into their clay forms. Retry of clay stage mind not always be possible if the soul is fragile with a reaper made imperfection or soul quality that isn't suitable for clay puppeteering.
Bringing to what the king has in mind for her. At the kings command, as since time hold no meaning for the duration it took for her to be up again. Her quick nap felt long but she still was able to wake herself without aid.
She walked the realms most inner hidden trails. Following the lead of the other shadow marked undertakers. Left her to a gated entry. This was the farthest side of this kingdom, the kings escape tunnel for when the realm will collapse. Its where hides other secerts. But unlike other kingdoms that have this sort of thing at the centre and not accessed to outside realms. This place was full of shuffling feet owned by many other kingdoms. A place full of all joint kingdom crests, laying sealed coffins or simply laying the shells.
Undertakers can indeed have corpses, the clay remains once the soul has been lost or removed. There is uncommon occurrence of sleeping. Once in a while, once the clay has hard set. The undertaker doesn't wake or move. The soul threads failed to attach right or that the soul itself has issues. There isn't a study or any expert. No one really bothers learning the why and how to wake them. Not unless they were important. Which maybe what lead the Dragonflies to be the lead of this operation... as the queen of their kingdom never arises out of such type of slumber. It maybe paved the way for why duelling for the title became required, as a sleeping type was instantly forfeit owning their positions and names.
Her little speech when handing the crowns back to the kings is once used for when a monarch is a sleeping. Her use of it told them all that she knew their secrets but the lack of her spreading them told them she was someone not what they thought.
"My only task I can command of you in exchange taking a duchess shadow title from me." The king unlocked the gate of time stop crystal and held her arm in pulling her in with, "You are to book keep and maybe even awaken them. Those that are of no use to use are in the jail. I suspect you will have use of them as a Cog oath." he let her go and they stand at the elaborate coffin of his lover. His gaze over the box. He openly has affection to this sleeper, lifted the lib like nothing to brushed the partner inside, "She still there... I know it." Right then, the rings. Both matched. So its how he is aware she mentally still active. This person is exactly the example of all of those resting here. Mentally there but paralysed. Its even its own form of hell. The universe has strange ways of bringing interesting throws over its internal dwellers.
"You're exactly right, lord king. I dare not remove the soul from this clay form, she's fragile." She does not move closer or further. Leaving him to pause and muse over her words, "I am both an outsider ranker of Sigil and a Cog ranker. My non-senses of a secret is partly why I get hire jobs from Death. I am one of few that studies souls. In my expertise of understanding the status of souls and the corroliation to thier soul names in tomes. I seen plenty strange soul shapes. Plenty of weird things. I guess this is one those rare times I am faced with seeing what happened to an unquie soul but put into an undertaker's form." She sees he wasn't impressed, "I know that look. I know that feeling. No. I am no threat to anyone. Hardly. But removing souls should be the duty of the metal scythe. It's not my place to gossip soul matters." She avoids his queen with instead looking over other respected coffins in the tight lock area his brought them to, "This guy has two souls in one body, very conflicting." She moved to a next, "She is a damned." She soothed to the next, "I see, whomever soul removed you at your human death. They did a terrible thing. But its not uncommon. Its not the worst. Imperfections are always something frowned upon by the divine. Here you are, undertaker and unable to soul heal." She turned facing the king from this spot, "Plenty of interesting but common soul traits. Plenty of fixable imperfections. If you wish not to change souls, then we should change how the soul operates the clay form. This will awaken those like you queen. New way of threading a puppet."
"You may try some small harmless tests on the others. Once you have a method, share with the craftmen. If we have successful awakened, we can talk about helping these needed. We can't risk losses in carelessness." She bows at this, "You are to not illegal name snatching, soul swapping or enslavement."
"I take these souls very seriously. Breaking a soul law is worse then being in any hell." She clear took that heed strongly, "At least they are not Hollow." She judges, "When a soul becomes despriate and starved of something, far grander then its abilities." She tilts hearing not far away, "I see, so you know already. How they starve and eat souls. You should be careful. They will eat each other if envious enough."
"They are the price to have this done." He voiced and she softly nods at this.
"Yes, getting rid of hollows is much needed... but you are afraid of loosing them too." he shivered that she caught that, "Worry not. Some of my own pets are hollows. Having a fondness for the hollow ones is something we have in common." he still again, "Sometimes there is a way to reverse the condition. Not that anyone would have told you that before. They say they are monsters without emotion and without sense. But its simply that they lack soul or the right balance of status. These things fix when returned to them." She tilted, "Unless its a hollow made from nothing... they had no soul to began with. They are creepy. I wouldn't want to put a soul in that."
He up right and stares about her in how she was deep thought.
"Are you some sort of hollow hunter?" He asked.
"I met a hollow that devoured only hollows. One of many mentors That taught me about souls. It had the most beautiful way of using its voices. Mimic anyone to the tone pitch." She smiled in the long memories of those days, "Hunting the ones that didn't follow basic law was a requirement. They have a how soceity and rules. Just as you undertakers have kingdoms and leaders. They made thier own weird concept of this. Rules they share. I suspect these lot know these rules. They are to docile to been kept in this place. Not unless they were smart." She takes a bow as he stands posed hand marking a ranking crest over her. She has now freedom to unlock and lock this gate of coffins. But this area has time stop crystal used as these gates.
"I have things to move on with. You are to awaken them as undertakers or use them as you please in payment. You will not be taking souls against their will." She lowered even more in showing she agrees. He stares darkly but quickly locked the gate. Hear him walking plenty away.
"Well now that he gone. You had anything to add?" She steps right to the queens coffin and in bows waiting for responce, "I am also a Hollow. I know. I lied when I said your soul was here. Rather, I am plenty aware your soul has fleed to the gate here. All of you... I hear the souls on the other side." She stares exactly knowing where she means.
"What exactly do you know to reverse this?" Hearing the Queen.
"I am an example of a repaired hollow. But my recent condition has pulled me back to my hollow ways. When I gained back all my soul, I was no different to any avrage human. Flawed maybe as I became a Trickster, but its a price worth it. Its worth having a soul. But not worth breaking others souls to make a mutate one of my own. We mustn't eat souls that don't belong to us. The indigestion sucks." They all were listening to her, "Every soul is speical for shape, hue and personaility. You want the one that did belong to you. The vast majority of you are humans that turned undertaker, and lost soul during the body crafting periods. You all waiting for your orginal soul return. You must understand that I am not the problem of what conditions your souls return back to you in." She bows, "I can promise at least that much as it was the kings order."
They clap in great celebration of having someone able. They all lowered back hidden and silence as there is moves of the able undertakers. A oil canvas pulled those with a stretcher. It was the coffin of Greyhound. They are moving him to his spot in the walls. He isnt the only coffin but it was the one she paid mind about.
"Hungry." A chained bound undertaker is struggling. She walked following where they take the hungry ones. It pose as no suprise as they are to low rank for any respect. Is pushed off a made cliff that not throw him bellow but above into a hole of the ceiling. The prison of those to be forgotten. The sounds of others already in there giving this hungry one a warm welcome. She sees this place has crystal gates from many kingdoms sharing boundries. So many crests are using this prisoning system. These catacombs too. Coffin storages with laying clay bodies on lids. This well of sleeping ones and hollowed. The prison of those to be forgotten. The locked tombs of sleeping key members. She turly took in all this new stuff as it was now her job to care.
"Don't you have orders?" one the shades of the left hissed her way. She takes herself to seek a proper workshop spot or just a place for some space to figure out things. Scouting the holes and how large this catacomb trails. She then was fusterated in the lack of care for where had coffins already. Where some the missing clay bodies that should be laying on these coffins had gone. How many exactly are in promise to her. She even suspected that he meant only the souls of use to her and not the equipment and gear these undertakers left behind. She lost herself in now making a number system to track occupying and lacking. She stumbled upon the craft clay workers on the lowest level of this catacombs and find it actually so long of length that this is looped back to the ponds that the humans are thrown into to make undertakers. Which meant there is a finite space, no matter how well the kings power is. She hovered watching the clay carvers at work a little while. Turned in seeing the four children that taken spot under Matthew's sister. They all spot of coveting a title and high nobility postion. She is back to ignoring them as she sees the pond beings... those of the pond. They surfaced and kneel at her feet knowing she has power in this kingdom to help them. They speak in Damned and muttered long sweet lies to have her sway to their demands. She didnt bother regestering them.
"Oi!" the pond things scatter with a craft undertaker coming forwards, "Good they haven't." They stare about her form and perplexed in why a high ranking undertaker is stood among the mud.
"I was admiring the view. Excuse me." She leaves back into the catacomb stairs and they watched her in shock. It was mostly due to her crossing into a chalk drawing barrier without breaking or triggering. No normal undertaker can physical do that. She makes it up all the way in recounting the spaces and coffins. Back to the royal gate lock.
"A message is to be passed to you." She heard at the lock gate. She bothered not to opening the time stop crystal gate. She rather just walked through it as she always has been able to do. It makes the king's advisor tense but he eased in just getting over it, "You're ex-living brother wishes to have your time over tea." She tilted in pondering. Weird as it was, she thinks nothing to much of a stretch to see the true title take fondly of her ex-human brother. Still wouldn't hurt to be cautious.
"Madness." She proclaims, "tea? Not coffee. He is an American." She hand to hip and left hand exgratted her exclaiming point.
"Many of death's messages have been missing." the passer softly bows.
"How so? Did they taste good?" She really testing this punk and his clearly not seeing her values of strange. The charade was worn cold, "Leave before your ashes." They stand firm as they do not see her a threat. She has no hesitation in beheading them with a blade from her storage. She has no issue of tossing the headless body to a nearby guard. At picking up the head. She took a long route around but eventually to the cliff where the forgotten are tossed. Head posed in threat to toss it.
"I was sent by the Spiders." its plenty enough for her but for the sheer show, she lingered the head more, "The spiders were hired by a human family." She almost seems to be throwing it, "No! I promise. No please. I am not a trickster. Please." sobbing at least, "Please. I am just doing my job." She tossed the head to the guards whom hold the body. She posed in leaving it to them and they carry the spy away. She takes time returning back the realm and it many other departments. Touring the documents rooms. The tomes departments. The training grounds. She took even a seat at the cafeteria, as it seems so strange they even practice eating. She sat alone, without a meal. Staring upon the mix. Only the dragonflies are here. She doesn't know how they do it... keep this place separated as it is.
"Leana." She jolted in hearing that being the human name they use of her. She has a lot of issue in trying to keep straight what her human real name is on the best days, "the nicknameless." they are mocking her and trying to command dumb things by using a living human name over her. But they find only a staring match. Her lack of moving or even acknowledge of them addressing her. Really just the instal jolt was all they got and nothing else.
"Maybe she did gain a nickname." the one that is the Glader bloodline.
"As if." the other three are here to lower her status and bring her down in any reputations she might have favoured. They weren't aware of her returning all those crowns, so busy with their own troubles to even know what sort of situation the ballroom is. They were trying all the classic tricks like presenting rotten food and kicking the furniture around her. Trying to take her right hand to agree to some stupid enslavement. They even go a step over themselves in putting hands on her. But Pride is quick to intercept this event from this point and get them all to avoid a shade like her. Pride being disappointed that the girl was to infamous to be a successful shade. Pride leaves the girl with a stinging dark glare, being the only way of disapproving.
"They gave you the sleeping department." A real damned from among undertakers that were ex-partners. Those of lost body but not duty or soul. She does suspect these damned could be some the lost clay body folks. So she's not wrong to approach or have them approach.
"What stops you from taking back the clay?" She asked in straight stare to the damned seated, but she studies and sees this isn't someone fitting this, "Ah, a passed on. Never mind that then. But where are those that could go back? Regardless of being damned in what reasons." They creep a smile, so she makes sure to pay proper respect of their response. But given she was without judgment, "Realm lost?"
"Some. Mostly hell those are." She can nod at this, "Some living realm." She posed in depth thought to being a reasonably honest answer, "There was 29 of them lost in a compilation with god realms. I am here to talk of them."
"Yes. The god realms." She crossed arms, "I can try and bend what law I can. I suspect these influences will ring more problems." The nod at her now, "Well I wasn't nicknamed Penheart for nothing." She stands, "I will seek the courts for information and trail souls this way. Release any issues to return them here or even back in the soul systems in approach." They show hope in her response and bow. Leaving. Leaving as the divine flexed energy and damned burn in divine. She doesn't. She may have stood but she seated again. Tilts on staring to Riddle.
"What are you scheming?" She can at least tell the distrust.
"Return of souls that gone walkies. Nothing much of a reason. I had to ask those that it mattered to. Having no issue of finding trouble in these fate tangles." He sits across from her, "I am following the kings order. Backwards it may seem. But if I did force my own methods without information, there could have been density changes to the tomes. I wish not to be nagged again." She leans at the table, "Which orders you trying to follow now? Or are you luck to have both Omens and the king aligned." He narrows her darkly, "Cold as always." She can't help a soft smile, "You never change much." She huffed, "Next there be courts, since the most difficult to wake up are tangling in God realm affairs. Maybe even lost folks from god realm requests. God's do treat the undertakers as throw away." She back to up right, "Well not all do. But who knows what sacrifices are made in what matters. A chance to straighten the hidden realms."
He posed his hand toward her, palm up in either wanting her hand back or something. She tilts in pondering. Listening to him, but he had no words. She looked him deeply in the eyes. She looks deeper then anyone does normally. He breaks that gaze and she still held that soft smile. She takes a long scan of the room with undertakers and the hidden creatures that shoulder rides. She sees his hand is still posed in offer. She puts a fancy feather to his hand. Wonders what reaction he give for a feather. She watched his eyes dance the feather length.
"I haven't see that in a long time." The abyss version of omens towered over them both, neon eye also traces the feather, "That's rare angel type. One for the animal kingdoms." Omens lifted the feather and added the decorative peice to Riddles fancy hat. Of which was also placed on Riddles head just now. Omens seems to mother hen a while in making Riddle neater clothing and hair style. She flicked her right hand and instantly mended his sleeves. Omens sees that and nods agreeing. She then does this same spell over herself, all those stairs will have worn through her shoes and dress hem. She twirls her hair into a bun and stabs through a status chopstick peice. The gemstones that dangle were god court approvals. Give its length to be a whole string of gemstones, she have to roll them into her hair too.
"The cloak." Omens asked for it and she obligations in left hand return. He puts it on and faded from abyss to wood elf from movies. He seated himself warmly to a chair joining the table. They looked very neat together. She thought about it and then lifted a drinking crystal glass of her own. She pours some unknown sourced liquid to the cup, sits leisurely in sipping the content.
"Show off." Omens eye rolls and she lifted two more but empty. She pose to a decanter of matching set, it contains a red wine. Omens shook no and she swaps decanter for a green glassware. The label long faded. It was sweet, or was meant to be a mead. Omens takes this drink for himself, glass poured and with a soft wordless toasting. She shared that pose. Riddle stares at them both mildly unsure. But since there is a glass and his god drinking it. He joined in. Together they sip and she relaxed frist, watching the crowds.
"What of your task thus far?" Small talk from Omens.
"The sleeping is a compilation. Everyone is uniquely sleeping for various reasons. Some need recasting with a better trained craft hand. A few have some soul chips which happen. Maybe it's energy or soul sizing. The way the soul has improperly embedded to the clay." She end at this point but omens knew she held back the worst.
"The queen isn't coming back." Omens warns.
"In the condition she is now, your right." She nods with agreeing to Omens.
"You have something up your sleeve." Omens notes.
"Detachable claws that pries souls are what hides up sleeves." She shrugs and omens shakes at that, "But seeking souls is as simple as following the soul traces. Most magic and often most fate threads are cast as a smell trail for soul eaters to give chase. They have no eyes, nose or often a smelling organ. They see souls in a different wavelength from our spectrum." She takes a sip.
"That's oddly knowledgeable." Omens stares a lot her way and yet she paying more attention to around them and the undertakers taking seats. Most were here for a sort of meeting or just here to pass notes. Some were openly talking, but they are have these implications in certification. It's all that more clear that Riddle was here to Intel gather as she is.
Some vague talk over about the big bugs hell having weak foundation (which she seen happen already being collapsed). The talk of human groups such as the Mages that block gate realm entries. If not mages, then it's the not magic humans using sceince to see what they can't. The whisper of SCP which to her muse had her sip her drink a second. As of there is a universe of SCP foundation actively working then the bending reality rules are also with them. The objects they cross with however are things she constantly trying to prevent in human hands. She can at least trust they mass of the foundation destroy dangerous things, the minority are having fun with time Ripples.
"How do we out pace the unicorns?" The question raised. And several suggestions all pattern with.
"Beating the unicorns to market trades, Sigil requests or even ranking."
"We have priority for high stake requests."
"Trades between our area is sought for."
"The average rank here is above gold, baring the newbies." This guy is poked in a joint that does hurt an undertaker, be it like a arm punch to a human.
"The death domain has been pulled into a kingdom crests, with the highest seat being the god himself."
"More like that there being two halves. The upper ranks are demi god and true god ranks. The lower ranks as the reapers are now using our system format. The highest talks as god follower. It's some ex-human turned bone. A fallown that was granted interest of Tomes."
She rolls her glass with softly putting it down. She then sank it to storage. Hands posed to her jaw, posed with listening intently. The spare bottles and the empty cups at their shared table sunk away too. She peers in how his hand is returned to pose inviting her. She softly taps her fingers on her hand, clothus talk of asking what sort of situation is he inviting his hand to her for.
"I guess you're still the same leery to trust anything without question." Riddle understands her taps.
"I didn't become the merchant among clothus and nightmares from blind trust. Earned not assumed. You have show me plenty of reason to be more cautious. I am this way to anyone, they have it worse." He retracts his hand away and she sees them unsettled.