Down here to be forgotten

A less then gracious landing but who would blame with the pile clay hollow shells under foot. These are husks that are dormant and often soulless. The more soul ones are crawling out the pile or clinging around the walls. This pile at the hole has its ring edges are where the floor meets walls. Walls hung of chained individuals, each torso wrapped and still wearing their original uniforms. All these people that she can see from here that are in chains have both hands missing. At least from what her long distances sight gives her and the lighting situation, mostly it's gloomy for sure. She barely moved an inch standing to look for folks when there seems a crowd to welcome her. She carefully noticed they have hands, meaning these folks were here before all these handless undertakers. They aren't good intentions, they aren't stupid and will likely know she has a key out of here. She takes no chances as these welcome committees began climbing. She makes a calculated jump knowing there is no gravity and that the ceiling is more floor. She narrowly dodged some awkward hand lifts, brushing her stomach as she flys by. Landed hard again on the ceiling which is now a floor. The perspective of people makes sense, the ones who were here before and the ones that put the undertakers in chains here. The hands and handless retrospectively. She can walk right up to individuals, looking downwards from how she stood. A deep look at their eyes, emotionally vacant bodies. The distant stare, only for one direction. She inspected uniforms and conditions as she steps past for the next undertaker.

"Get out of here." She heard but she did not see where or who. She continued walking in following of where who stared where. Taking the majority but even then eventually she went by the uniforms. Those close to the monarch would look his way.

"There is no place for creep creatures of the dreamlands." She unconsciously knew to raise her left hand at some off angle and deflection of a weapon. She doesn't even register this sort of attempting attack as anything more than a fly landing on her. She continued making looks at each undertaker, of the uniforms and the hands. She had only ever found one hand of the monarch, so she guessed this would be the undertaker with a prosthetic left hand or kept the original left hand. It is a feature to factor for searching for this guy.

"Those shoes..." She paused at this crossdresser, it was a moment check but nothing worthy. But they spoke at her, regardless of the angry sentiment.

"Needle in the haystack to find someone that recognized their stuff on me." She crutches lower again to look at this undertaker properly. For whom they are, they certainly dress to impress and would put many women models in their magazines shame. It seems there is no communication getting through to this person even if Luna had spoken. Gladly Action works too, removing the chains and helping the lovely dresser to stand beside her. The corset was beautifully laced and easier to see with no chain in the way. Thin and lightweight, it took Luna by surprise as she pulled this person to her side.

"You with the empire?" They asked her and she waved frankly at disagreeing. Gladly this establishment of things of being an oddity. The undertaker can't get past this moat point. Luna makes many attempts of signing some things she knows and mimic things. The game of charade is shortened with the hand criminals climbing and both of them weren't looking for these sorts of friends. Although handless, the cross-dress uses both arms to link the arm to Luna. Together they rush over chains and took a jump through a corridor that Luna would have never figured out alone. They evaded many that beg on the chains who had more hands in this area. They jump again taking back to the floor they should be on, a sort of platform that overlooks the chained ones. A sort of prison warden outlook. Luna managed to get off this person at this stage and caught a breather. It was a lot of running and part of her is still living. The sort of being out of breath makes the cross-dresser pose in pondering, the stump of wrist taps in patterned methodical thinking.

"why?" The cross-dresser complained, "We don't breath." Luna ignores this rude point for now. Looking around this place and for the fourth time gestures asking where the monarch could be. That certainly still flies over the cross-dress in some other meaning. Glaring down with no respect for someone making the assumption that they would replace the monarch. Luna hissed in frustration that this didn't work. Looking around more again. Huffed in attempting more staring for any others that were active in the handless department. She crosses her arms in concentration and tilts slightly soft occasionally in trying to see better details.

"What is the point of trying to bother us? Don't you know where this is and why this was made this way?" She gives the impression of listening to the moody cross-dresser. They sit comfortably on the floor and look down at the hands they lack, "Our ability to record what was lost has been taken from us and now we are thrown away. That history in memory is not being purposely left down here. Down here to be forgotten."

"When there is a will, there is a way. No matter how hard we try to be forgotten, someone will come digging our grave trying to unlock what we did in life." Profoundly said in response but the undertaker didn't hear her. She sighed and lowered to eye level, shook them, and forced them to stand up. Wiping away the gloomy negative energies they were creating as a wall. She wags a finger and points in sass about the way they dress and even in acknowledged that she stole their shoes from the room frame. This certainly deadened something about the undertaker like their inner would screams at mental cursing for doing this action all naive and wrong. She can at least tell this made the cross-dresser angry. Angry was better than wallowing in sadness for the bow.

"I told you to dream walker to leave!" The two were split apart and one hand is all this undertaker has. Pointing a weapon her way. Although she first acknowledged response about this guy was to clap and dance a little in being so happy to find someone closer to what she searched for. The weapon makes a swing and she caught it between her hands and lowered it into a kneel. Still holding this weapon.

"They are mute and weird but I don't think that sort of gesture is someone trying to be a monarch." Another approach and gets her up from kneeling, another handless. The cross-dresser agreed at this point.

"Some sort of scavenger, they admit to being wearing shoes from my collection. They have no idea how hard and expensive their shoes are." Luna closed up in being all shy in feeling sorry about the shoes but she needs them. She wasn't about to take them off and hand them over. Rather she looks at each here in repeating her question about looking for the monarch. Someone finally among them gets it.

"Oh, my gods. You are so human. That's not trying to say they are one. They are looking for ours." She sighed in relief that they got it right and poses eagerly in reply.

"They been asking where the monarch is?" The cross-dresser pose in finding this weird, "Our king is down here among us?" The tilt of the uncertainty and the group shrug. Luna pouts at so quick to as fact. She frowns at them each in the hope of some more words. A soft try of repeating herself off looking for the monarch. They stare emotionally vacant and so distant in their eyes. She is beyond annoyed, stomps between these three, and then sharply makes her search without them. She made it plenty loud that she walks away and grabbed the attention of any potential helpers. She checks this immediate area as this has been the most active place for handless folks walking around.

"It's not like they have time to waste anyway." Among the three watching her stomp about, "If Curiosity is still active and pulled her because she is anomalies being from the living timescape. She no different to us being imprisoned here." The three cross arms.

"If she has the key, she wouldn't be able to enter. The place is controlling the time stop crystal. He will have to unlock the crystal to throw her in here." The mid tilt, "But he would have to found someone that can walk stopped time to reach this gate. It's not like the silver empire would just let him clear the crystal to throw her here alone."

"Exactly why is she looking for the monarch?" They all turn to see she pried more folks out of chains and asked them all for directions for the monarch. So many confused folks and all handless. She is purposeful in asking the ones without hands.

"She is breaking the crystal." Pointing to the chains around here and the abnormalities of how she breaks them, "She is able to break time."

"What exactly are we meant to do? We can't stop her and her intent seems to be for the monarchy's audience."

"Furthermore, what exactly happens to this hole of forgotten when someone starts breaking it?" They all jump in going to her and all stop her from lifting more chains. Make her stand away from the chains. She at least complies with the demands without a fight. Looking for answers in their eyes and expressions. She can see fear when she starts to turn back to the chain and the begging for her to stop.

"Stop it! You will break things." She poses confused about what exactly they meant by her breaking things. She lifted a guilt chain asking if that's what they meant and they all backed away seeing something become real before their eyes. She tilts more confused and throws it away. She crossed her arms all angry with not finding this monarch. No one here will help her. Staring listless and stuck in place the moment she isn't touching them. All but these three. Clearly they are souls without clay bodies. Broken beyond repair and wandering around frozen crystal seeking to free those less tragic than themselves and protecting their fellow undertakers from dream creatures that can evade in broken time.

"We can't leave here and we don't know if the monarch will still be where he was last seen. But we will take you to where he was held before we were."

She straightens for that at least and together these original three take her to a location that had a crystal wall edge about it. A little beyond is a private room that was fenced and for sure a mirror here. So the empire could keep the undertaker monarchy in capture. The three undertakers pushed her this direction and quickly they disappeared. They seem to get out of sight very quickly. She softly makes her way to the crystal air pocket and gently makes it through to hide behind a closet. By the sound of the content within was more a tool shed.

"So tell me what exactly allows the monarch to control the tome of souls?" She seems to walk into a bad time. She can feel the long durations of energy that causes pain around here. She doesn't want to think about what the sound of creaking clay pottery would equate to for a human, "Why do you of all beings not know such a basic answer?" clay chips crushed under someone's foot as they had a new tool and approached.

"Just how much more clay will we peel until we reach the core?" Second voice hits something and there is a hissed of reaction following this.

"You don't need me to speak physically. This is all to trying get my soul to speak. But you are ignorant and wasting energy on me." They laughed at the weaker voice and something new is being walked over. Whomever makes it to the closet and began rummaging. She couldn't help this opportunity not to go a waste with pushing the tool shelving onto this guy. She hops on top of it for additional weight as Whomever is trapped screams in an agonized scream. She made herself lower in being ready to dodge or have a steadying step off the wood surface. She picks up a fallen spear and softly travels in tracing the dust of clay from the trail. She looks back to the screaming guy in the tool shed a last time, no one else is in this part of the room. She softly trails onwards.