Nest in the straw

Even the watcher has a routine. During periods of what seems sleep, he eats things and leaves for a purpose. Returns with more supply or wounded from a job. He treats the area of this walk way realm he can access as his home and makes soft stops at these small hung pictures along the main corridor. He speaks names occasionally in remembering who they are. Wishing they can keep strong as he finds a way to get them back. He does spare time looking for her, he made interesting trips to places she didn't know she could access but still, he can't seem to access the crystal corridor. Like it is stopped by a barrier or invisible wall for him. He stares down the crystal corridor that is the shortest route to the enchanted books, making sort of a meditation or prayer. Maybe he fears and worries about the books too.

She makes regular stops at the enchanted books, always with the paper she found in other rooms. She softly was earning the book's trust. Appeasing the many voices between pages when it came to something she can fix. She can't read them yet. She doesn't try to. She had ample tries and some things the enchanted books request that she attempted to understand at least. She still keeps the respect of not trying to claim to own any names she reads and will do well to not make any use of these names. She outright refused to summon them. She doesn't even dare summon any books. Only she helps with a book presented to her. Be it a straight page or wipe away anything, not ink. Dry or wet pages as it needs. She has gotten really good at this. But the enchanted books are leery to trust her. They claim she is harmed by them so badly, this treatment seems just some chance to spit at them.

When the watcher is gone, she can walk around his areas or explore the places she missed. She found his equipment and his many outfits. She repaired most of them. Those he never uses and were ragged, she used to sew up her own sets. She gotten good at hiding in the crystal corridor when he arrives back. As always he sees she messed with things and sighed that she seems afraid of him. He tries again looking around for her. Trying to explore possibilities that he assumes. Even then he gets no where with her and she not leaving a way for him to track.

Came a particularly bad passing mission. He didn't have the energy to look for her. He was badly wounded, stuck into a deep sleep on the medical camp bed. She slips in sneaking gentle around. But his totally as passed out as he can be. She poked his head and he turns with the poke. She ducks in checking he doesn't flinch or something. She can't use the human assumptions of breathing patterns. No moves. She stands in looking at the sort of wound he trying to heal. A little flushed of him being shirt less. She had to pat herself to get her mind out the gutter. The guy literally kidnapped her and she is here because of him. She gently cleans properly what he missed. She sees that energy around flow and the disruption in these flows caused by the wound. She repairs those flows too. She finished with some disgusted expression about it all. Stick a hand into someone and there bring no flesh or blood. She can't help but feel she was getting messy in there. He made a stirred notion and she dove instantly for her nearest hide spot. She creeps back to a better one as he spoke a one sided conversation. Had to be a phone device or a telepathic link somewhere.

He sighed a long draw sad bit when he finished talking. He bandaged up the hole. Puts on a very neat suit. He fancied a neat fedora, looking like some mafia man. Sunglasses and such attitude. He stomps as he exits. He was gone longer then normal. So she had more time to sit with the enchanted books. Watching them at work and leaving them at their purpose. It was good enough TV for a realm with no technology for her to bother with trying. She would have loved a radio to play with frequencies or a smart device with decent apps. This watching of flying books will do.

"Why do you watch moves? What learn?" They asked her.

"I enjoy watching how you move your shelving books. It's sort of peaceful. Like watching candle light flicker or camp fire. The hypnotic rhythm... its calming and makes me not so bored. There isn't much to do here alone. Don't you get bored too?" She asked and it froze in spot. Maybe it was processing her words strangely. Whatever it maybe, she got up and takes a bow. Returned hidden in the crystal corridor. Back around as the loud drunk song echoes louder then even the books can thunder.

"Another one bites the dust! Hey! Another outcast to the flames! Dance embers. Flying..." She doesn't know this song nor does it seem they knew the lyrics either. As each said something differently at this stage.

"If you find a human or a husk here. Don't attack." The watcher stumbled a bit in being ahead of his drunk freinds. Everyone stinks.

"Not another object brought back to try to break them time seals. It never going to..." The demon hiccups, "Even gods can't change time of this universe." burps and then added, "This isn't a living world or a death realm. There isn't time here to alter."

"A true title god can. I seen it. Death made the heavens stop for the time it took for him to write the realm name in his tome. The realm gone now." The demon sprays spit at such tall tale and refocusing at the watcher being so protective of this new thing he dragged form the living without the empires approval.

"You get yourself cat?" The demon knocked arm in giggle.

"Nah, his got himself a human." The angel snickered but brushed a surface, "At least a woman. She clearly doesn't know that ash is a barrier of protection." the visitors laughing at the length of monsters that could be here now.

"How have you not had a dementor yet?" putting a spark of pale sober fear to the watcher. Weapons dropped with pointing to the lit candles everywhere. The demon laughed and plays about with one of the flame candles. Letting the hue change with his hand brushing the flame like it was solid glass for him.

The three of them are dead drunk. Crawling on through all fours to the main medical room. Pillows tossed to each and they sleep it off on the floor. She was going to brave getting out of the corridor but the metal mirror surface had the god killer back. The man was damn pissed beyond belief. Must be the mirror she broke with the book room. But the god man took one look at the three drunks along the floor and knew it wasn't them. Sits crossed arms and looks at other things. Looking at the changes. A light brow raised as the three drunks sensing this fella sit up and try to be a little more sober. The man glared particular towards the watcher.

"I don't know what you brought here. I don't know what sort of trick it or you pulled off. But the books are not nonaccessable. Except through the frozen time corridors." That made four feathers drop from the angels wings, or at least whatever other mental attack is happenings here. She can see the flows of energy and the notion of attacking. One particular energy was really building up and it was bright. She pouts in knowing it's dangerous but can help to find in amusing to her. She carefully sneaks around and with a well hidden poke, she stole that energy. The god killer goes to cast it and there happened nothing. He fizzed in deep clouds of steam and left fast through the mirror. She hides away a little better while the three men look at each other.

"That was different." The angel standing and noticed the dropped feather have altered. She stepping in one on accident which cause a contrast colour change. He lifting it and it turns back the hue of his soul. He applies the feathers back himself with a slow changing expression. Sort like his was trying to list things that cause those colours. He wags finger at some possibilities but looked around the room. The demon here has been trying to pinpoint directions too but is clearly to drunk for such sober intense thinking. Bring to the watcher that stares at the mirror.

She is finally someone been caught but only through a reflection. She stands tucked beside a tall cabinet. She gladly presentable and wears a cloth veil to hide the lack of face. She sees that he noticed her but she stays so still. Because a direct look, he can't see her at all. That she has mastered the art of hiding in shadow and can only be seen in reflection or when she wants to be seen.

"So how cursed can a human be?" The demon huffed in attempting something. It only really successful at making her softly move away. She gets far enough and zips it into one the repaired painting canvas shortcuts. The watcher stumbled in following knew which portrait and finds himself among the books. He quickly returns out from there. Started protecting the paintings passing quality. Not wanting just anyone to enter. However, the books already too care of this.

"She fixed the paintings." He posed arms while excliaming in shock.

"That's wreckless. What if the destination was to something worse or the changes?" The angel wavered drunkenly on approach if them painting. The demon reached in touching the surface for the traces of care, at looking at the detail of repairs and even in how it was paint matched. This wasn't a quick dodgy fix. This... this was sheer talent and patience. Practice with some unknown guide that knew these paintings. The sketched in areas where there isn't paint was draw as if the she been there to see it for herself. Depth of understanding the textures of the portraits depth perspective.

"Lady of talent and patience." The demon can't help to admire the work with feeling. Although maybe the drink was helping at that. The three drunks step back in letting a passive thought and soon they all rushed through into the painting again. Be it this time the books clattered a loud sound that made all three kneeling in being unprepared for it. While being at the floor, the watcher glazes across of all the shattered bits if the mirror gate all directions of the floor. Picks up a clump and lets it spray out from fingers in sand pour. He is the first to stand and properly properly bow before the books. The angel and demon stay on the floor, from a guess - they are actually asleep. The alcoholic level in them is pretty astounding as it is. Although that's human scale of how drunk is drunk. These lot aren't human, so... they must be really stinking drunk at this level.

"The little bird has gotten quite handy to have around. Keep that rude fella out of here." The books state. The watcher bows in listening to such an oddity and hung the demon over shoulder. Picked the sloppy angel somehow and back through the painting again. She pokes around from the top of a shelving unit in seeing they are gone. She returned back to whatever class this book was teaching her now. It is another name repair but the books were actually talking to her through the process.

Speaking of laws about the realms, in order to correctly identified name placing and that she should question the soul for any particular potential issues in name transfere during retransmission to new pages. The accent of a letter can mean the law boundaries for that soul will maybe wane where the already dwelling don't. It's not up to the book to bother helping the soul but it can lead to a knock on of more names spreading to the next transfer or a repeat visit if that seems a problem. Occasionally you don't need to leave when already the soul is to be transferred again. Death is swift for some. Quite the mercy.

She nods gently to the wisdom and it was about time for a break. The books let her be distracted as she peers down bellow at the monarch desk. Particular that she had glass sealed the hand she found here and was watching the flowing energy transfer from floating books or that she was looking at the many other room features she had ignored. Like the fireplace she hadn't seen before. It was behind an illusion partition screen. There is a sort of make shift bedroom in a archway that way. She frowns at not liking a potential dead body being there. Her mind isn't queit flexed with the concept of getting rid of such labels.

"You should make use of such area. You made yourself at home around here. You really shouldn't go back among the living in the altered body you are now." The books make a valid point. She literally can reach into her head when her face is off.

"You all think that it be OK for me? I don't exactly belong anywhere. I can see energies and walk through time stopped places. That doesn't seem right. You really OK with whatever I am?" She certainly wasn't actually paying attention to what she was asking. She asked in the most human way possible and meant that in a human way. Whatever the transaction that had meant for the books was likely very difficult. It shuffles a lot of pages in surfing about wondering her deal is exactly. Seeking for answers. No matter where on the pages it shuffles, the more off things were setting between itself and her. She carefully began climbing down and began fluffing about with the king's private bedroom. She disturbs very little and discovered no corpse here or sleeper husk. None of the in wall coffins had anyone in them but this area was avoided raiding like all the other parts of this realm. Nothing was disturbed. It was as if left momentarily. The bed half made in sort of them expecting to be back in it. She gladly found new cleaner bed sheets and the clean uniform clothing. It seems gender didn't matter, men's and women's. She found proper tools to use for future book repairs, so meaning the monarch of undertakers was someone that looked after the tomes like she does. She settles in and fell asleep. A proper deep sleep, a first one since being here. She been so scared of the situation and afraid of unknown possibilities for what this realm without humans would be like. She didn't really expect to be allowed in where their highest ranking slept or to be taught things by the enchanted books. She still a little uncomfortable about the watcher guy. For now... she can relax.

Once she was totally deep sleep, the books made a paper figure raise among the spare pages. A paper puppet for it to enact sensory things like sight and touch through. In being totally gentle, it stands over her. Inspecting her soul or rather she managed to hide it. Her acting body is right here but she hidden her soul. It peers so perplexed of how that is even possible. The paper puppet makes a big mistake of walking around her, accidentally falling into her shadow realm pocket storage. It's is here that entire tome of other locked universes are aligned in a vast infinite amount of horizontal space. Here it sits terrified of the energies and order of things. But it is also just sat here... soaking in more then that. The vast lack of sound does have some small shuffled. The sound of someone reading a tome, a page turned. It so soft a sound but it is loud in the silence. All these books were cold. Rather there being energy to father or take here. It was rather more a vacuum, voids of energy. Lacking of creativity soul heat energies. Spent universes... all in many forms of stages. Stopped cold.

"Curiosities are often a bad thing to indulge without facts. Leave." Her voice was vast of many soul voices and depth the same share of all these tomes around this place. The paper puppet stands up from the accidentally fall in, brushed off and looks back from how it fell here. Perplexed in not sure how to return. But it finds itself and flows as drifted pages, back through to the side of the sleeping body. It thinks things through but let leaves her be. Stalls slightly in watching her move to a more comfortable sleeping pose. Hand at face with mirror depth of thoughts softly back as pages into the book covers around the shelves.