Within Veiled Boundaries: Shroud Over Their Eyes.

She watched as these not normal undertakers. As of whats she has learned, undertakers look like pale humans and move quiet smooth. These lot look more puppet without strings and have stuck joints that can do some round motions like a rotational wrist or twist of the spine. They pace about as time returns and pauses again. Causing snap moments of the living reaction to the accident. Playing with the flames of the cars starting to choke. She watch them doing bad and good things. Help save some of these lives. Some prevent help. She backs away more out of sight and begins walking. She preferred that she find a store or just somewhere with safer activity that could have better chances. Out of range, the time being stopped and started.

"Wow there, where are you from?" She stopped and folded hands in front of her. She slightly backed away in having a look at them. She looked back as whatever those bad sets were doing had finished. Those lot have of them are walking in spread to search. She considered that this could be to do with what the demon was sad about. Why it didn't have her in the car crash with the human host they had. She had to make a choice, and she would rather not trust these weridos. At least this guy who approached her after death, for now seems an OK bet. She makes one last check of the one that has approached from further away. The uniform looks neater, well kept, and they aren't moving in jerked motion. Smooth moving joints and eased movements. She steps around to use them like a sheild, hiding while holding their side. She can touch them unlike before. There is touch. There is smell. There is solidified mass past the clothing. She held close.

"Undertaker!" One these things soon approached right behind her, "Have you seen something around here that doesn't belong?" The undertaker stays all blank, likely in making their own choice of the situation. Another undertaker step that is an ally of the one she held to steps in. Hiding behind her, she posed close to make out that the two weren't partners to whisper something. She hears them making questions about the not undertaker that approached, being quiet rude in what is wrong about this not undertaker. The being hears them and snarls lightly of this. The two final stops talking questions and looking towards the unwelcome visitor.

"So far, there is you. What are you?" The being tuts in annoyance for the question.

"Not that a Trickster has business with our mission. But you don't seem to have anything to do with the bank here." Pointed where these real undertakers came from.

"That makes sense. No. I was looking for a name discrepancy from the car wreck behind me." The new undertaker takes out a tome and checks too. They indeed find major name alterations. They share looking together, closing the gap more with her between them. Muttering about untimely deaths being the main topic. With enough convinced motion of the undertakers acting normal, the fake turns back to the car wreck. Looking back as they do, watching as the undertakers stay glued about the tome name fluency. A finally shake off of a second pair of undertakers came this way in, glaring away of the fake. The fake moved faster at getting out of there.

"We just executed an unrelated demon hovering around the bank site. Traced back from this direction." The new pair glare, "What was the fakes deal?"

"Stay close." A big cloak over the undertaker she held to. She walks with following the steps exactly. There were several times they stopped, and she had to use the after image of the undertaker to hide better. Until the cloak was properly torn away in a full unspoken worded argument. The fake undertakers snaring and interrupted the official undertakers from some sort of bank heist robbery. The bank robbery is making historical and international news and became a close eye event that the undertakers needed to act on. Meanwhile, this untimely event, cause by the 'Tricksters', was making small local news and will be in the shadow of this bank robbery. Name discrepancies are heating tension in both official and fake undertakers. Which let to this cloak tear off moment, fleecing all the nearest undertakers for any suspicious tells they had hand in anything at all. What she can't work out is why these official undertakers were helping her, then having her told by her chasers. That was unless this was some way to pay a debt before or to have a favour owned. They do like having owning debts, like all spirits are obsessed with strings attachments.

"Double conversation is normally used to keep track of keen details. Very well matched pairs are good at this. Clearly, you were being a distraction to their mission. Whatever you Tricksters were up to was a disruption to the bank heist. You are making the tracking of murder victims harder to see with your little car pile. Whatever you are trying to cover up is well covered. We don't have the ability to interrupt the mess you made of the names. Which also means you can't use us to blame or clean up after you." The leader in charge of the bank heist event sneers in whip hand motions invading personal space and waving about snarls attacks to cover over the inability to change voice tones. The leader of the fake ones, known clear as Tricksters, hissed with cutting things short. Move away now they are done with thier fit.

"Make sure they all cross. Anyone who does might be hiding the soul of the living girl." Heard snarled, everyone had heard that. But these fakes can't see death. His a particularly patient god. Hand over a tome page, brushing surfaces. Watching closely of the things, he seems very actively watching one the Tricksters. The closer time catches this person, the closer death steps to tower over this soul. The instant came, a member among the Tricksters turned into a tower of salt and Ash. Death a quick hand to snatch the soul in time. He makes his conversation and then places it in his rob sleeve. He makes a soft nod to an undertaker and fades through the gateway of his making. The undertakers turning to each other in gossip, the cloak back over the shoulder of the one she hid in the shadow of. This pitiful arguing cuts as now all were taking gates.

Her ally and their partner are the quickest and first ones to cross. Many pull through a gate, stood in huddle in waiting for a clear crossing.

"I am not going to argue that you made a mistake. It's how much the pro outweigh the con." The leader is the last through. This area was painted black and white striped walls. It's divided of sort of security desk with block turn style gates. She got out of the shadow and stood underneath the cloak. She always held on hand on their uniform.

"It's not safe yet." She shuffled better at hiding over being keen to look around more. There is only silence following and a massive clatter of what must be the security gates. There is a flooding of strange spirits crossing past. They sound strange and walk strange pattern. Some slow near her, and one had completely stopped.

"Feel." Raspy and wheezes. It stomps a few bits closer. It ignores the posed threats undertakers made to defend.

"Dementor! Move on!" Deep gut growl and the wheezy sound moved away. It hovered that distance.

"Madam." It smacks lips to manage this. It shuffles a little forward and backwards more, "Madame." A whistled throat. Steps another. It echoes this sentence. A gang of four, sounding less in pain each try.

"Ease down. Speak clear." Her mask spoke her mind, lips of clay matching the clatter of dishes tapping together. The four make a relieved sigh and shuffled side to side. Clearly, they must have been in a new pose. Her face came away from her body, slipping around out the cloak, and lifted in, hovering over all. Acting big and tall, eyes pericing down the small figures who kneel, "As you are. Continue as you are." She clattered barely, "Find what I seek, trade as always. This never changes."

"Madame." They bow heads low and then lift slowly. They drag slow onwards. They all clatter and murmmer loud even as they make exit. She makes sure they are gone and softened. Lowering to more adult height, tilting at the details she can't see in a child height. She finished obversing, and she moved the cloak away. Hands taking the mask, putting her face back on.

"I still don't really understand what their deal is." She stated her thoughts, looking at where they exited, "But they are the nicer encounters I had. Definitely not even on my scale for creepy or dangerous."

"This kid is going to fit in fast." The partner shurgs.

"I am somewhat sceptical that things are going to be smooth for her." Putting a hand at Lea's shoulder and then lowered to her eye level, "I am going to just get straight to the main thing. Why were they after you and that demon we slain?"

"You wouldn't trust me." She huffed, "It wouldn't matter if you knew or not."

"But you seem trusted by the god of decaying souls. He will not have left a mark if he didn't trust you." Poked her arms in meaning those carved parts.

"I respect a guy that likes his day job." She looks at the marks better. Now she had the time to think about herself. She couldn't understand her body, she doesn't understand how her fingers or arm wasn't falling off. Strange shapes... weird gaps. She has a strange finger that bends into claws. She got a little lost with herself at just her hands. She was losing track of what she was thinking about. She heard a sound in a strange direction that was loud for her. She looked for where there was.

"Are you a Trickster?" She looks up at the undertaker in how that disruptive of her seeking.

"They don't want me. No one wants me." That was her reply about it, and she looked in trying to seek what that was, "Someone dropped a Tome." She very worried in seeking that discomfort, "They are being attacked." Gladly, someone knows how to act on this sort of information, as soon it happened. It was dealt with. It saved folks, "I am glad they are OK. I find other people's pain difficult. Especially around the books." She crosses her arms and holds a displeased expression, "I give no one permission to touch my books. I don't care how important or impatient you are. My books are fragile and sensitive than other tomes. Unless you're dumb enough for the forbidden segments. That's your fault for much stupid consideration."

"So you are a Fallown too?" She uncross her arms.

"They don't want me either." She fiddles with her own hair and feet shuffled. She stops shuffling when a hand is on her head, petting her for the child she appears to be. She was smaller than she was a human. Or that she wasn't confident enough to hold herself right. shoulder rolled forward, arms crumpled with twitchy fingers playing with hair strains.

"You can stay around here until someone comes to fetch you. If you really want to, you can go back to the living world from the gates here. That crystal wall is a window. But you can't come over until you're ready to learn to be like us. To promise with your King to serve well."

"Who's the king?" She wondered and sounded like a shy child. The undertaker finds it adorable.

"King Shock." Lea soft nod. She peers blankly, looking at a distance. She knocked her own fingers at thinking. That nickname held a ring about it that she couldn't forget about.

"Not a queen then." She muttered, unsure."Maybe I am not in the right place." The few nods that she was smart to reconginized she unwanted here too. She shook at this and looked at them, "Can I go learn to read at school now?" They all turn to each other. A few waved hands of considerations and finally a shoulder lift. A loud whistle was blown, and many began to queue up to enter. They began to move away, and she leaned back at the wall. Only for quick turn, that cloak drowns her in it. A little fuss of how the hood goes up. Then, a proper turn away, they make it through the security gate and out of sight. She sits down here, the cloak more a tent to her. She drifted thoughts and soon sleeps. But even as she sleeps, she stays right here, thinking of many things. Letting the many of her voices echo and shout. She held a lot of conflicts of her own in why or what. She gets gloomy in trying to understand the library in her pocket. Fights her shadow of clothy skin, lifting two files from the top of her preferred desk. Three working desks; one with learning material, one of trade ledger with a mixing lab, and her preferred day to day writing desk. This day to day desk has a file of official certificates, a bunch of nicknames she uses often, and a plastic pack of welcome information to a boarding school here in Florida. She ate at the restaurant nearby with family in this life. So, the general direction was something she could locate to ask. She brushed every certificate, and memory seeps and latched in her mind. She felt the emotional toll and the blood that drips in her hands. She especially gained an instinctive sensation about a premit that had to do with a creature she had to gain court premises for. With it, a chain of broken links formed and lifted from the page and through the ground, in a hole within the ground of her storage. She slowly turns to investigate it. She reached the edge and then... hands. So many hands. They take her. That took her sleeping in a cloak. They pull her through the hole. While she was stunned awake. The many hands posed her limbs and changed her clothes. It painted both her faces and tight pulled straps. Forced into strange adult heel shoes and put into an odd pose. Like she be sitting, leaning her right hand under chin and that her left hand will hold a strange cigarette. She wearing full god materials made armour and with two swords at each side of her hip. Her hair was lastly styled in a beautiful chopstick pin up, and the hands lovingly thanked her in their way. She softly lifted from upwards. She stays this way well past the moment of the hole underneath her was gone.

"Damn, you undertaker. Take the hint already!" Across from here slammed a fist on a arm the swivel chair and deep red eyed of white pupils narrows upon her. It soon widen as the whole eye is white. She studies his fancy suit with extras of gold trimming in the collar detail. A hand stitched crest on the right side would be over a demons heart. He seems frozen in the seat. Scared of her.

"Just what are you screaming about?" Indeed an undertaker opens the office door behind came through. She used her shadow in closing it behind them. She blinked feeling the air pressure difference and the left hand slowly put this mysterious cigarette into a fancy silver case in her hidden pockets. Wearing layers that held so much in her pockets. It's a very well thought out and nicely made outfit. Literally sewn onto her. Laced adjusted to her height changing ability. She softly returned pose but with her left hand flat at her thigh. Crossed legs.

"Another hunter to stake claim?" The undertaker crossed arms, "The hiring interviews are over."

"Shut up." The demon across hissed and tries to have a decent contorl of himself. Snapped out of the frozen fear. His eyes were black with white line pupil's. He makes a moment of meditation, closed hands and leaned to his desk. Cleared his throat.

"You being scared of me is a strange turn of events. One moment I am having a bad day and I guess I technically died. Spoke to the god of decaying and then escorted by confused undertakers. Now I been pulled through a hole in the floor, and sat in this chair. It's a really werid day." She softly mutters in not being sure how long her new voice is and what languages she might be speaking. She closed all her eyes and thinks for a bit. Her hands folded to her lap. She softly gazed back up to the demon in trying to be calm.

"Madame Trick Trickster, going by the living calendar. You're not even 10 yet." The demon flicked in checking the year to be sure, "Here you are... sitting at my office like you always do. Sort of just appearing out of thin air." The undertaker walked around to the demons side. Whatever held was dropped on the floor. She tilts in handing her shadow pick these things up, tendrils of shadow softly placing things at the desk edge. For that matter her mind wonders as these same tendrils straighten framed pictures and measure the alignment of trophies and displays. She couldn't help herself in even how the secretary desk just outside this door was being aligned - pens being organised in colour and size. Paper labels and sticking note reminders. A lunch bag of a lovely simple lunch gifted to the lady staring scared of her desk.

"Trick." The demon snaps in clenched hands, "Why are you here?"

"I guess I have business here. Maybe hunting more things." She shrugs unsure, "I didn't know I was going to brought here. I guess I need to be wary of such events happening again." The demon can't hear her speak but takes her shrug fine. She posed in wonder why they can't hear her, "Do you not hear me whispering like this? Maybe I have to try another voice." She softly began to slightly sing a little, each word a lift higher from the next. She got quick loud in this tone and still nothing. So she tries a new song and adjusted her tone the next way. She makes about three lyrics when they seem in pain of her using that. She tries the next tone in a next song. They stop covering their ears in strange expression of hearing her singing.

"So you hear this tone." She reached a neat middle level, "I must have been using my sleeping voice and that voice." She softly bowed head, "I am sorry for showing up out of the blue. I wasn't prepared myself really. I lost my way. I have no home. I was going through my old stuff in my storage when I crossed papers for your school. I was brought here in the after thought." She lifted in how the demon is pleasantly surprised, "I need time to adjust my new changes and to learn what I forgot."

"Forgot? You lost your memory or something?" The undertaker retorts and she surprised that a normal undertaker acts this way. But then again, she no longer human so inhuman actions have changed in her way of seeing them. The added hand waves and body language makes more sense as tone now, not that she like them.

"You can stay here. You can do some odd jobs for me in exchange of rent and other expenses." The demon looking up towards his cleaned office, "You can do your strange cleaning in places within my territory." She softly waved her left hand instead of nodding like always, " You can protect this area from uninvited guests."

She softly stood and gets a feel for the shoes. She strolls smooth right to the door. She touched the door handle, comparing her strange hands the handle size. She doesn't seem comfortable in this shape but she sticks with it. She turned the handle with understanding her grasp and strength. She barely had it open, slipping through the gap like smoke. She gently closed the door behind and makes soundless steps across the floor. She hovered of the secretary being distracted by her changes. How she looked in uniform for the school. She looked at herself as her clothes changed to match the secretary. Now as she steps away, heels echo the heel with a noticed clack on the marbel flooring. She makes pauses to classrooms and changed some parts of her looks.

A brown lady's jacket, match skirt, under vest of wine red and tortoise framed glasses. It was more her in her long brown bun up hair, the chopstick hung charms and decorations around her head. She still wearing the armour sewn on her underneath this and the fancy sewn coat was on top of it all hiding the weapon belt and flattened her figure. She very pretty as a teenage or tween size but older in her choose of style that doesn't suit the young face.

"I can't beleive we did it!" students leave the bathroom and that there was some sort of bad emotion from within where they left. They giggle in how they relished the torment and freeze up in being towered over by her. They stepped backwards as a group to move away and she glared exactly knowing what they done. Matching them, right up in their face. She said nothing, pointing to a classroom. The one smart ass when to run fast but they ran face frist into a mass over her shadow, how it mirror her but in black silhouette. They are on the floor, picked up to stand up properly. Glares watching them leave slowly to the classrooms as they seem suggestion posed. Teachers take over the punishment of those students, being late or turning up at all. She eased to the bathroom and picked up the injured student. Carries them with ease through the hall, straight for the medical office. There isn't a nurse here or school first aider. She makes do in following the instructions of a medical book, it has pictures of what to do. She finds herself very confident and able to follow the books instructions. A swelling eye has a cloth covered ice pack over and cuts on arms are cleaned and plastered in band aides. They speak fevered in being passed out. Once she was done putting away things and thrown out the used things. The student was wide awake, groaned sitting up and aching. She made a last glance check as they looked at her leaving. Frowned in facing some music about this later. Left to sulk as the nurse shoulder bumps. Posed hand toward the student, the nurse moved in the room quickly. Walking away, everything in her shadows reach is made neat and she walks powling for those that don't belong.