Wearing the mantal

Blow through the heart, gun fire with the smoking barrel at the otherside of the table. The tome flutters open and just as the host writer went to make his name was to be transferred. The pages lifted right out flexing to plaster the missing pages needed along the mosic of paper that peels the wall behind. The head of this body didn't land the table, his soul simply steps aside as she folds in.

She throw hands to the table find balance from the kinetic force and the push of the pages flowing to repair the hole. The blood that drips flows back and there began a spread on the surface of the table being ruined. She lifted hands from leaning too long on the table, there was a lot about this body she wasn't use to. Like breathing, forgetting breath is a dead person thing. The several times she has to blink away the washed emotional jolt this causes. Synchronised thinking, he was just dreading dying again. Now she replace that with dread of asking how to live in a man's body. She then is given a headache from the whiplash and the memories of this time around her. The sort of current memories she needs to know.

"Matthew?" She slowly reacted, she isn't following instinct to fight or flee. She does however pull Curiosity to her, his now the one in the mask and she put his face on. This was better, let him puppet her. It is his corpse after all. She just keeping it alive and healing it.

"The pages..." The wall of pages was gone... even those that left the tome. The slow stare of the repear and the child.

'Marcus!' She felt the flowing emotions torrent, his rage to direct a glare upon the man across the table. Clearly the man was deaf to the language of the damned.

"Mark." She brought a depth of tone that turned plenty pale, not expecting a corpse to speak, "You shot this heart and you killed this man. Its just a shame that he has two souls." She casted ice to form into a spear in her hand and slowly she stands, "Yes... a shame that I have two souls." Stands slowly.

"Its not worth murdering the second in line." The bird god squawked. She delays at seeing what Curiosity wants. He maybe mad but he wants to sit down. To stand down.

"Second in line? really? and not the other one?" She ponders, "Not all damned are dead, I guess." She sits but the demeanour and aura that she is has taken completely over. She sits back with a leg crossed. Arms crossed at the chest. At least she stays mute and listening to the arguing. She held back replying to Curiosity or his god. She does know that if Curiosity wanted to say something to his god, she will have to translated it. The two even in this form seem still be on the same page where she is struggling, not able to find who to be paying mind of more. Gladly the arrangement works, someone that is note worthy stood and she follows Curiosity's lead to bow. She followed this person, just as Curiosity's needs.

"So his the mask... but who is the body?" This is another living Glader, as she sees it. His an important member of the family.

"She's a partner I trust." This man can understand damned wording even if the god doesn't.

"She..." The person noted, "I didn't know you has a lover or wife." She wanted to punch this guy for that. She takes awareness of the sight that Curiosity is gifted with. She can see vague shapes of dream walkers. Given her knowledge, she knows what they represent and often why even in waking hours some cling to souls. She even knew some these dream manifestation by name and had drinks with them. The importance of them is that this was the gift he uses to prewarn people of thier luck. She also has the bird of the god to direct her to which ones she needed to be aware of more then others. The nightmares that are bad luck regardless of what keeps them among the waking world. She held Curiosity from leaving her, she follows his direction of movement which is the twirl blocking someone from spotting them. The bird joins in to move this gentleman to go a better direction. The bird directing the man to a business, it seems the sort of thing they needed. She moves flowing with the shadow, she was getting use to the fleeting pattern he dances instead of walking like a normal person. He 'walks' always ready to evade or attack - it isn't actually a playful joke he does. He had been evading dream walkers and predicted mishaps.

"and stop here." He has her playing spy, leaning to a wall. He pokes at waiting for the the moment, "Catch the cake." She nods, "Now!" She jolts forwards and caught a cake from slipping off a base. She also caught the person falling, twisting uncomfortably at supporting their neck and back. The length of her free arm gently helping lift them up, twirl and putting the cake safe back in their hands. She formed a hat to appear, hiding her face as she gives a nod while hat hode face and left the woman clueless.

Walking through the shopping complex. She picked up packages as she went, makes them disappear in twirls and slips evading so many, smooth footwork that was like dancing. Often stepping making dance partners of random strangers, either evading them or catching them from harm. She would be at the ready pull people out of the way from pain or taking a spell from the air to save it for later. Truly flitting between danger and harmless, edge of breaking bones or not. It's no wonder he so healthy, he has to be built like an althelte. She took seat on the stairwell banister and rides the momentum downwards. Kicking the last part to push some air time and land rolling - holding the hat down. Doesn't stand until asked to.

"Timing is on point." She stands and the bird lands on her shoulder, "Would happen to gotten all those things?" She uses the cloak of raven feathers at fluttering the stack of boxes at her feet, "Quiet the magic trick." The bird is impressed, "But your not him." She tilts the mask to pose the worried expression, "In this way, we both get to keep him." She smirks at this, taking the mask off and hugs him to her. She uses a free hand to release long flowing hair from underneath the hat. The face was sharper to fit her more, she smiles in a smirk. Her way of agreeing that he wasn't able to escape her for now. Her left hand showing the gemstone ring, how it alters the suited colours based to his soul. He was wearing hers by the necklace.

"Your not a chatty type." The king, yes. This is the current mage king. The father of the boy. She knows the lad as the elder. So his not even the Ender of his timeline. She slides sideways as pulling a unwanted rat from attacking the king. Thrown to shadow and captured by Curiosity for the time being.

"He does talk a lot. I often listen more." She lowers at the human that was innocent and picked them out from being possessed by the demon. Soft brush and turned them quickly away. She stomps her foot at sending a chain, whipping the spirit back to her. Grapped with her right hand and little to close to comfort at holding them up. But she is unfazed of the chains upon her. The whimpering demon imp gives the message. The king mage asked her to release them and she throws it back by a gate. She takes a notebook out and makes notes. She danced at following the Kings move, writing notes this body does naturally. Curiosity is clothus in a fundamental level, they are used to speaking five different conversations at the same time. From foot work to fingers, she was on point at making Curiosity proud. Keep up chatting through gesture even if her lips are sealed.

"Lord Glader, do you truly trust your son?" She flutters fingers making note about the red cloaked mage, not a religion but rather the element flame magic user. Fire is the sheer make of the glass beads adorning the crest. She doesn't bother stepping in even when Curiosity jolts as a shadow to hiss.

"Its not a matter of trust. His loyal to his cause and his reasoning has little in way of meddling with the affairs of the living." A father knows and like any who is Ender, carry burden of chains that aren't even thier own sin. An act of selfless love to wear the sins of others. Even if the crime can not be forgiven. She knows that she doesn't need to defend someone that rides more experience and she happy that his not totally forced the full entitlement due to his own blood father being in his stead. She has little to go on with knowing what type of Ender this man shapes as. These little arguments are insights of what this man proves to achieve. In throwing the once elder Ender to the side of afterlife and play meddle among living. Is the man trying to save this universe or crumble it from the inside out? She so happens to write that in the Ender language and moved on in the little threads these two were pandering.

"The crown Prince is your only heir."

"I could have a new wife and more children if I was worried."

"These new Trickster folks from America have proven claim to take the throne." She broke the pen and is quick handed at replacing it with a smooth notion. She wasn't expecting that. They might have proven claims to change the living landscape but they have little in term of tome access for her universe. It must mean someone gave them access to this tome universe instead. She doesn't linger long to these distracting factors.

"Mattu, aren't you... dead?" She pulled the mask from snapping, "Oh. A most odd turn of events."

"You should keep calm. Threat over the small things and the weight of burden will consume. After all, time wears all eventually to a state of ruin. Without time, there is no start or end." She slides her notes away, "Your quiet a drunk man. You stink of it. The forgetting things and clumsy steps. The quick to temper." She points with her left hand, "Your slurred last words with be with the grip of a broken glass bottle." She then had even laughed, "What a state you will be... indecent and drowning in pain." She takes stop to please Curiosity at least. The dragged silence makes the man shiver. His rage fuels so much more, "Poor Whiskey man. He be so robbed blind of what really matters that even his corpse will be in a wine casket." She knew this man because she is looking at an ex undertaker. She knows this corner of the many universes well because the undertakers from here bothered her the most with ruined tomes, "A shame that the drinking doesn't work after you die. You will remorse even moment you first taking the bottle." She folds hands behind her, "You are a good man, just a terrible drunk."

"I don't like them." The flame barron complains to his king.

"I liked the old Matthew. He was more cheerful of his world veiw." The king mage sigh.

"Well you can't exactly ask Matthew which segment of hell has the most souls." She snickers, "A trick question actually." She plucks the god bird from her shoulder and pet them, "Nor could you ask the god of omens where they keep the scythes. You can only really expect vague answers that turn out better. Not even fate or Karma is quiet so omnipotent." She peers right into the man, "It looks like there is debt to pay. Your already chained... scorned just the few to many women and men. Hung on a rope... not chains. Revenge likely. It must mean you still have the time to put it right. You do your restless spirit a favour in fixing that."

"I don't like them." The gentleman leave the king alone.

"A good thing too. You don't want his business. His a backstabber." She puts the god bird on the Kings shoulder, "There a little better veiw. You can see further then us."

"The new kid is something of an entity like you." The bird coos.

"Indeed. Tome keepers and Ender have the shared depth of knowing the recycling soul system. both have dirty hands and ungrateful endless tasks. Work to be shoned for instead of praised. Harvesting material for the repairs and new tomes. It's the same burden of sin an Ender endors when forced to act too soon or out of order."

"Just how long was our time apart for you to be so cynical and sour? When you were human, you were so happy then. You had innocent curious questions back then." Curiosity held her shoulders with carrying the this depth of tone.

"He said something along the lines of wondering what changed this person. He talks like there was a past. And it's off to me that he states 'when you were human'."

"She's a book keeper. Given the state, it had altered her very fabric and the time she spent being in that tome once herself. She is among the few that survived and crossed here from the islands erased existence." The bird puffed and she twirls swooping up the box stack at the feet. She used them as cover as someone important approaches. The bird bows respecting the queen and the king taking her hand.

"There you are." She smiles the Kings hurt melts away with the smile she provides. The sheer positive energy had Curiosity take better cover too, "Ah, and Matthew. You have the boxes." She sighs glad, "Here I heard baseless rumours that you were shot."

"I regert to inform you, your majesties. Matthew really is dead. He really was shot through by Mark. Although he does continue to live in as a trapped echo. Snared between two souls whom love him too much. We couldn't exactly bare ourselves to have his soul wiped clean and lost to the system." She lifts the box's at giving a proper courtesy, "While his dead, I shall be holding his corpse accounted. Until it heals, I am the one acting his wishes for him and the wishes of his Lord omens. You could say that I am a meer echo of him. The darker side that he hide in life." She stands straight, "I wish not to have a name. It be better that you choose a new nickname for the time being. It would after be a great honour to be nicknamed by great power as you both." She bows her head.

"And nor from me?" The god of omens asked.

"A suggested by you would help them. Yet do you really want to be the reason I was marked into your side of tome."

"Actually from a god law veiw... the girl makes a valid point." The queen looks confused.

"My soul is that of a woman. I have basically pirated my partners corpse." She admitted honestly. The king isn't bothered but the Queen is having issues. She looks more deeply into the eyes and really does see someone else then Matthew there. She can blink a few times and make mistake but that is a total stranger.

"You would happen to be a freind of my son Philip?"

"That's his living name?" She half hearted a slight laugh at that, "Its actually very fitting." She gains back composure, "He hires my services from time to time. He actually recently ordered me to shuffle some parts for him. I have some disturbing the peace in the realm of death to do."

"The Librarian of the tomes." The king noted.

"Ugh... such an old title." She frowns.

"Wait..." Her majesty pats and then presents a wax seal, "Whose seal is this?"

"Seal?" She looks upon it with pondering, "This is the royal seal of either a undertaker or a demon. I say demon with this universe lacking undertakers." She returns it, "It belongs to the Tricksters for sure. They always made fake documents. Never to careful with them."

"Why do we never talk to you?" She hugs around and the slight stiff discomfort. There was several thing about this that is bothering. The king had even laughed.

"Dahlia." The queen spring this flower to her mind, peering about the black uniform. She offered her hand. The king and god slow nods at accepting this, the name scores into a tome somewhere. Once the name was established, she felt adjustments still.

"I am looking forward to being a service. I extend my skills whenever you wish of me. I am nimble in hand work." She bows greatly honouring this. The adjustment to hold the stack boxes and being able to work with the flow. With the royal heads of the Glader together like this, catering to serve as the advice poses to be even easier. It was only matters on a surface level meant nothing major, it was more the result of following the small things that larger pictures were established easier.

The Gladers and Tricksters were having diplomatic trades meeting. There being establishment to be shaking of hands. The Gladers hope that new bloodline Tricksters will prevent public disapprove. It seems every other Darkwood (the other half of the Glader bloodline that is in dark arts and some sort of blood cult). Connection between Glader and Darkwood was being thwarted by Trickster. The enemy of my enemy is my ally. A shame that the Tricksters are the real black Dahlias present forwards. Lea is honest to give the bottom stem first to the Prince among the grey. The brewing storm between Darkwood and Trickster was to be announced a threat to soon.