"Salt them all!" the undertakers are raiding the place with vengence, and no soul or resource was spared. This place was in major purifaction. She had coughed out the dust that caked muddy layers over her. She barely got off the floor where she was. When the higher demons are pushing each other to flee the last place they can from holy divine reflect. She waves the divine wave of energy ensuring the demons were caught by it, watching those demons scream and claw to hell. She wipes the dirt from her eyes as she blindly is trying evade more problems. Not sure if humans that work as servants that once held demons in them will be around wondering the house confused.
"The storm shelter is empty." A local police cop, gun posed sweeping the place, "But this place is much bigger... looks like a basement and house extension. I need help sweeping it." He calls his radio. If flickers unstable, "Anyone copy?" He hissed and backed to where he came from. Closed the storm shelter door. Muffled of radio coming back to life. Something about radio jammer and extended floors. She stumbles with hoping for help of that door opening again.
"And last one." Some undertaker scuffed her neck, "Not sure how a human corpse ended this close to escape and died." they pull her deeper and she tossed among the mass grave set up that have sorted here. She couldn't help but panic in sinking among cold bodies. Making plenty of distress in trying to get out. It answered what happened to the humans that had demons in them.
"Get her out." One indeed lowered enough to offer a hand. She is to panic to worry about hands and promises. She just took the hand and held tightly. She was then crying once out of the pit. Clinging in fear, purely in the moment of inconvenient emotions. Her fight flight senses from being in the body pit gave way to just pure sobbing on the arm of the recuse. She held so strong given her ankle had given out, so she relies on them for stability. She felt herself burning inside from the holy water drink from before and heat from over doing it. The stress was heavy and it had strengthened her ability to cling harder with the undertaker; in spite the sort of law that prevents humans to do so.
"Here allow me too..." She back clawed anyone from touching her, still at the height of blinded uncertainty. The sheer act of her claws cuts the threads of the approached undertaker. This guy just lost his arm just from that. The undertaker backed away with having to hold the arm on himself. She buried herself to the undertaker that helped her more, shivering and the claw back hidden.
"I should have warned about that." Speaking up a fella from before, "She is why my arms are working. She has something of a skill with souls. Not sure what... nor how. She might have severed your active connection to the arm to the body." The long pause, "Maybe there is a use for her then just repairing body uses. She is locked down here for a reason. And as she out it, not freinds of the Seers."
"She looks 16." Posed of plenty that aren't sure of the action to move. The one she clinging to was all the more colder at her grasp, as if his aura switched to someone else. He glares down at her, and seek a peek down the back of shirt from her collar. He attempted to get her off softly and she held harder from that. He manages with a free hand to use this attempt to bewitching but this cast shattered by her. His not sure how she did that. The slight air change flops more of her ragged up outfit, and for sure he knew that back bruise mark isn't as it seems. It was glowing. He can only use his free hand to hide this mark back better. He stares blankly.
"Must be nostalgic for you to save another girl from a pit of corpses." Among the undertaker in uniform to tight for body shape. The tone was from how she flicked her hands in disappointment.
"It is just a reoccurring pattern." He hissed and indeed he sounds different the others. That was a real damned tone echo woven among the undertaker monotone. It makes the girl shiver less hearing his voice. Everyone noticed she was calmer with him. He tilts a lot in depth of many thoughts, and soon shuffles his clothes for inner pocket item. This item held over her right hand and clasp as a bracelet. She felt so drowned in sleep by it. Her voices soften in herself, that waft of human emotions tempered as whisper.
"Sleep." He commands and although she drifted slower from her pains and stress. She was full weight resting into him. He made the attempted to pick her up and finds she like a block of stone. He was at full scrambling to try to move from the spot.
"That's impressive but a tell. She's a tome keeper. You can't move them about unless your burden to the tome too." They all hear the human police sweeping the upstairs and around again. Back up has arrived.
"I don't like this method but it's not the frist time I had to move unaccessible tomes." She was blanketed over and then weightless, "I don't know how that worked on a human." He able to move now.
"She's a Seer... for sure." One pointed out that there is now new material over him, clinging to him as she was in human shape. A strange creaked mask of closed eyes on his chest.
"That makes her a handful even more then she already is." They crossing through a disc gate and in time of the police finding the planked door, splinters of wood spray tracing behind the pit of corpses of this basement. Plenty men shuddered and refuse entry. The salt line remains of the undertakers gate was voiced as cult actions.
"Take her to the ponds up stream. She wouldn't form well with the public ponds." With the given permission. Swiftly the rush to have her converted was not taken lightly.
'This land is full of unease, tastes strange. There are so many diverse soul types and races. Restless.'
'This is simply the sigil paving around the local realms. It's always stressed among the sunlight human realm. Plenty of demons and angels are in constant odds of the human world weather.'
She was dazed 'looking'. Her mask acting as her face and unfocused with passing motions. She has even soften enough to ease up on his shoulders. He had more movement to joints, as her cloth damned material restricted him before. She was drifting to sleeping notion again, not his bewitching but this is the side affect of a human among the spirit world. Going into a dead lock state, which is why undertakers turn human bodies to doll ones. Out of the body lock. She about lost grapple as he crossed to the kingdom.
He had to let her drop to his shadow storage entirely, since she is a tome keeper. Being locked inside herself without any senses but to the connect off shadow reach. It is a soft string of random phrases, deaden space ringing and maybe tools clattering. Especially when it comes to a body carver, scooping excessive clay from ears and eye sockets. There is soft work around her fingers and joints. This crafter isn't following a human structure. This is fine as she laying comfortably, well she assumed she way laying down but who knows. She has no sense of gravity yet. She has the odd occasion of feeling her tied ring barrier checking in with her soul. Unseen eyes making a snap glance and look away.
Grasp of her body and the senses came around with being sealed in a coffin. Her temporary partner ring was no longer there. She felt the fall, dip then gyre (the motion of water). Her box was adrift a long way, even as a dream state body that sits on the lid to watch passive shoreline pondered many times to save herself.
But the water soon drops and instead of going down. Chains suspended her to the free fall. Still her mask slips staring in how she dangles this space of suspended fall.
"Session two, trail of Miss Fallown. Her own defence and lawyer. Accused of several cult and criminal cases in association of the red hands." The gavel slams and she is lifted her head from the desk. She rubs her sockets a little in habit and with her right hand pulls a empty mug. She stretched a few joints and flexed back to human enough shape. She leaned at the table in a lazed tiredness, barely capturing the scene before her. Plenty of gore pictures of horrible incidents soon focused to her mind, and that this was a spirit court house. She slowly then rolls gaze to the smug suit guys at the left of her. All line up, even a few clothus among them.
"I want a drink." She voiced with more turning to look at the fence line, "Mmm... someone butcher them." She stares at the nearest corpse at the fencing. She reached right over and fills the mug with blood. She puts the head back there and back forward. She then now lifted her clothus skin and rips a strip of this. It altered into the tome containing the names of the court creatures. She sips her mug and ganders the names softly. She has a few strange sounds but overall was just staring page to page of the geneside at play.
"Opening statements of the accusing?" The judge commands. Soon woven clothus cursing, demonic twisting of true and just everything they can squeeze legally to devalue her. She unfazed, sipping the mug of blood. At mid sentence of some big topic, she had already twisted around for a new body to pour blood to her mug for refill. Give whatever she was about to drink was some tribute head from a pile of criminals from previous trials. They all freeze seeing her filling the mug.
"Do you fault a dog breed for hunting rabbits for the slaughter of a rabbit den?" Her voice over the voices of every single speaking tongue. Even the gallery was shutting up. She puts this head down on the table, drink a little from the mug. All with waiting for someone to speak up.
"No less that we would blame a god eater for eating a god." The judge replies with wanting this case done.
"Really? You don't blame God eaters for eating gods? It is their nature, yes?" The judge looked to the accusing side, the side down. She has plucked another tribute to the table. She not sure what it was but she was cutting meat strips and eating them. The judge snarls.
"Stop eating!" A clothus hissed.
"Why? Are you on the menu?" She asked in stinging the guy to sit down. She posed left hand at offering some jerky meat at anyone close to her. Had even posed to those accusing her.
"You're not chained! Criminals like you must be judged by the chains." The attempt was taken to powder as she sneezed. Yes she sneezed and the chains rusted into materials piles of blacken dust. Upon being surrounded with dust powder, she sprinkles it as seasoning to her meat supplies and continues eating.
"Miss Fallown."
"She's dead. I am broken mask shape." She wipes this at her face, showing mark, "I am hungry. You set the table. I am enjoying this show and meal."
"But are you dead or just playing some joke with us?" A clothus hissed out of turn. She chewing openly, occasionally jaw unhinged at snapping a bite and closed locked with chewing.
"We need access to the index for what this thing is." She back hands the tome to slam closed instantly if them attempting this.
"I didn't give you permission to access that. Filthy." She clattered some strange clicking in further attempts again. She soon simple used the tome itself as a gate, she pulled through it and ate the access requester. She chews enjoying fresh meat and pulls back to being seated as before. A blacken tongue cleaning her front paws. Almost more ant eater in shooting about her claws from trace crumble of the meal.
"Damn outsider." Hissed among the bench of those against her. She tilted in pause hearing the heart fluttering of this human.
"That's a human joke. I am impressed of the lacking brain work it takes to accuse your direct descendants." She lifted in towering plenty, and with ease stretched a reach. Soon grappling around this and squished between like grape. She sits down licking this pulp mess from her paws as before.
"It ate the client!" Hissed many at shock and rattling knees. The faint of heart were removed from this place. She shadow sank all the neat and corpses. She focuses with name changing in the tomes, a claw dips the mug of blood and softly scratched in. Once the final touches are blended in with a smearing through the bleed page through. She waved the the whole thing back to clothy stripe, it zips back as the way it was torn. She stretched again, and lays half across the table. She stares blankly of the crowd in terror to her right and softly to sleeping.
"Creature of the defence table." She sulks a slow gaze up at the judge, "I will let you leave if you just indicate your prey targets." She softly lifts at such a changed way of asking her what they wanted.
"Broken things. I take broken things. Broken souls are my favourite. Chipped by a death god, I come soothe. A thrown rusted time peice, I carry it with reverence. A bit of distorted something, those are fun. Clothus are known to make these things. So Clothus become a sort of bait. But I need bait to bait clothus. This gets completely confusing after. Throw some human whims and emotional wavelengths. Yeah... that's life for me." The judge soon was shuffling at the cases of offences. Slowly he was marking things. A pattern of finding, causing or making broken. The judge couldn't figure them all out but he steamed enough.
"Congratulations and a pleasure having you in service protecting us from the idiots in my court room." The judge reached to conclusion, "What do you do with broken things?" He asked next.
"Depends... the energy extraction to neutralise the affect. Send it away. Souls are soothed and repaired. Souls are sometimes graphed to souls missing something, like skin transplant. I send it to a realm that needs it. Say making sure hell is toasty or frozen over. There is uses. It can be contained. It is safety out of reach." He seems to tick off his list of strange noted things, "If it's the world itself, I tend to get in trouble with the true title gods over this. Especially death, he dislikes my backwards solutions. Here I hope writing it backwards will revert some mistakes... but no. He doesn't allow it." She huffed, "But a good tea and a long talk. We figure it out." Flops arms at her front and relaxed to the table bored again.
"So if you continue making sure to ask God followers, vessel and divine locals before messing about to ease the broken. I will have no problems. You are without a doubt a cog oath. There is no telling what befalls us if you aren't around doing what you do." He collected up the files and with passing over to the sectarian for straighten up. He wafted several court gestures. The gavel slams without further action.
"I am sorry. But what was your verdict?" The plenty feeling injustice.
"A cog in the grater universe doesn't need a reason. It doesn't care about laws we argue. Rather it will care for the laws that aren't meant to be broken. As rightly voice that clothus are broken law beings. We can't exactly enforce excuses because it did what it should." He stares over them, he sweeps looking about her and back to them, "If we going to balance this court. If had to use your assumptions... the outlook you using. Then you are fault. You should pay compensation." The judge shuffles about a bunch of things, "yes... through my request." He posed the page and it floats to her. She left hand slaps her approval. The paper is taken back by a brave court staff member, pulled to the judge. He nods with that working. He gavel stamps four times. The whole room shifted laws, plenty descended to hell as sinners. Humans kicked out. She left seated there among piles of money, materials and pledge scrolls of pardons. The creatures of the fence were among the court gallery once more, in bow to her back. No one sides behind her otherwise.
"Please register several nicknames." Judge pleads. She so deep into herself that the area meant nothing around her. Soon was the notifications of alterations to about laws, and that seven different ID registered. These four are marked as red hand marks. Then her personal three; broken mask, hooded merchant of murky market and cog keeper. Each title has a flooded lists of names. Most are rewards from duels. Some are broken language things that relate to her tome keeping. Her secrets. In seated in this court, she appears of a thing made of torn drapes. Her significance is the way she puts a little three dot heart as her grim name; penheart.
"I am satisfied of my reward as you are of your requirements in the request you papered." She lifted her seat, "I need to return to duty." She pulls off the drapes into a solid mass for this realms as an undertaker. The way she was crafted before this court. She lifted her left hand and a guide book jumps from her shadow. She hugs this book and bows to all. She makes several fluttered finishes in her left hand. She steps with her foot pulled the chair under. She makes soft gliding steps, lightly to barely a touch. She wasn't stopped by anyone or any creature, gifted personal space of avoidance. She had climbed over the gallery fencing to the public exit. Hugging the guide book. She looked back in how the room was in relief. She turns back forward to leave them at peace.
"We will never going to find someone that took that nickname. Or even believe they finish the monarchs command." She softly circles these undertakers, blending among the entry waiting rooms. She pauses and soon opened the guide book to a folded paper. 'For my king'. She checked the content of the letter but is just human world details. She not sure of the reasons but it's not her business. She sees these undertakers have larking shadow undertakers looking around frantic too. Several crests of dark intent. It's all a trap for use. Even the orginal bait pair. So she looked back to guide book, stamped edition... there the kingdom seal this book was verified with. She doesn't see any of those here. Maybe the crest knowing nickname Ace changed hands, cut ties and assumed the order as inconclusive. She leaves this court and to the traffic of plenty. A sea of souls at motion.
The talk of undertakers was about the civil wars between crest kingdoms. The war a crest was having for land invasion. A crown can be without lands, and thus land invasion happens. Undertaker realms are pocket realms or lost sigil pathing that becomes sealed naturally. The nature of the monarch crowns fight over the best conditioned spaces for grown of undertakers and law of space. You could see things if you change the perspective of undertakers as hive mind colony owned by its crown crest. The crown makes the biggest chooses and is the drive of what laws undertakers enforce. Some kingdoms don't care about the matter that life and death divide by. Some collect things. The crowns are turly strange creatures themselves. Undertakers are a bunch product of it wanting hosts and servants. That benefits beings that become body locked without a death god around to soul scoop. Humans aren't even the only targets of crown kingdoms. This all was the summary of repeated arguments among the public undertakers along this place.
There isn't a gate crossing for the crest I am seeking. Ace is with a crown without lands. Am I nomadic living or are they the kingdom they were at war for space for? Or is this crown in truce among others - borrowing the lands of other crowns. Land sharing? That's too hopefully.
"Are you OK?" A group of people step fast to blocking her from further action along this place. She studies that they all are differing crests and she hugs the guide book with stressing out.
"That cloak and feather." Now touching her necklace and measuring her about, "Ace?"
"I took that nickname. It was lost. A monarch said I can have it when I wanted to return the lost. The Ace you knew is gone." They looked sad about that but there a soft tilt. This strange tilt was soon in the others. She held pose in wondering and soon she makes greetings. She offers safe exchanges of scrap found goods. Gladly they ease in the greetings that she gave and none around her was interested of merchant exchanges. Rather, someone came forwards from around and gets her. This person has the same kingdom as Ace's guidebook. She stares perplex of just trusting them.
"Let's have you checked over." She pulled by the crowd and soon she walked with the guy. They cross to another's crest and they used the private dipping area for a soak up. Her clay body needed this. As they were alone enough, this guiding undertaker explains the situation of this crest. It is a kingdom that protects weaker crests. It's like the military on behalf of four other crests. There a mutual trust and share of resources because it was all only owned by them. But as crowns with lacking undertakers were under threat, this kingdom took in such cases. Still do. But four stuck around as other managing parts. Leaving the largest kingdom that started this, the one they are of, to be the empire.
"The last mission we took part in was the rescue capture of crowns that humans had stolen. The undertakers part of that were captured and tortured. I recall that our crown used itself as bait and it was unexpected turn of events. I heard about the orginal Ace. I know his moved on." She softly nods understanding, "And yet, its not like he gone at all. The divine aura from his equipment is still active, so I guess you could cast divine words. His god devoted to never took him seriously but had accepted he was a god follower. Never asked him to do any divine actions." She slowers to soak in around her shoulders. She softly eased a little and lifted as this guy exits out the wash up. She climbs out too, still clothed in all those layers but less stretch of blood.
"Let's take you to the crown." She stood a little shocked and had then instantly to a reflective enough surface. She fixed up her appearance all properly like. She had tied in some nightmare ranker items and some low grim ranks. She had even just then removed her mask to make check of her real face underneath. As she click tha back, the guy was no where to be seen. She looked around confused of him sneaking off. She posed sad of having likely scared the guy. She gently looked around if anyone else seen her mask lift, she looked at her reflection.
"Ace is definitely strange." She huffed in relief to hear them not far and exits the pond area. She was cautious in taking the corner and held back herself in not wanting to approach without permission.
This crown being sits wrapped around its metal crown host, it blinked of many eyes and she understands why it was protection of weaker crowns. It is adapted and been poisoned by God eater. Altering into a part god eater itself.
"Ace, come forward." It spoke and she gentle at stepping softly, "So you can see and hear me." She then lowered completely to them. Spooking the undertakers a moment, "She can hear and see me." Telling the host.
"You continue to surprise." The king speaks, "I will not question anything or ask for forced service. Rather in exchange of the crowns you have hidden away, we will provide a suited shadow title." She bows of this.
"Some of these crowns are sensitive. Please do this exchange somewhere they feel safe to." She lowered asking.
"Smart girl." They pose to follow them, taking a painting crossing another painting.