Sewing the gap

Getting through the American Airport was tight. In addition of having the inconvenience to bother declaring her brothers ashes to be fit for flight. Meaning upsetting and stressing the boarding check in staff for showing documents of his death certificate and proving he is indeed in the urn at security crossing. Oh boy, he like making hassle with security. Even after death it seems. But being allowed to show him what living in England is like and forfill that chance to share a slice of life she has. It's the promise she was always going to keep, alive or dead he is.

His spirit followed her up to a point than just sort of disappeared after boarding the airplane. His ghost didn't board with her. It worked out fine. She like the on board entertainment and good sleep without a ghost attached to her. It's the only time she fully connected to the land of the living and no spirit breaks such illusions. On landing and looked out of the window to the snow. Sleeveless 40 degrees C into -3 snowfall. She smirks at such amazing natural weather.

There is one inconvenience she had not to escaped. It was instant with collected bag luggage and leaving second security into the main British Airport. A lot of walking and the sheer hope that she can be convinced to not see the big sign of her last name written on it.

But her brother is stood there with the guy and pointed at her passing by. Leading to a very strong hand on her shoulder. The cult mark tattooed on the hand among other interesting fashionable features. The necklaces that ring and the chain links.

"Sorry love. But I am with the church you grandparents and mother follow. We had word you flew over to America and hoped you have a moment to spare." She sighed defeated once again. They just love making every one of lifetimes as a human with inconvenience and enemy making. The dream cult are the folks responsible for why her mother and father never had time for living a normal life. She can understand her dead seeing gifts aren't for everyone but she doesn't need a cult stigma to go with.

"Josh, right?" She shakes with her left hand, "You're not hard to miss."

"Yes miss." He shakes warmly and then gifted her a fluffy warm women's coat. He helps push her trolley with suitcase, "I am sorry that it is out of the blue. You never replied to our message or mail. But it is important that we forfill your grandmother's request."

"My dead brother is at least clued in?" She posed to making sure his included. The man tips nod in looking directly to her ghost brother, "His urn is in my bag,so please be careful."

"Oh, that make sense. He is here because you brought him." She takes her bag now as that odd nervous this man had made didn't sound friendly. She isn't entirely entertained with likening a lift from the stranger. So she made a quick turn to the nearest store in the airport and purchased something not normally for her. Like a single pack of regular cigarettes and lighter. Some tummy medicines. She made the purchase cashier uncomfortable and purposely made herself remember able. Making small talk a big story. She makes all the plenty red flag sort of gestures.

As she got out, security for the airport came over to talk to the big man with her suitcase. She is also taken separately away. A long interview later and safety to say she wasn't expecting someone to come pick her up. She doesn't know the man and doesn't smoke. She gets really honest that she only been gone short for the funeral and was expecting to be back home. That she has to go to work the day after tomorrow. Her credentials of building and power tools licenses. They had her in a taxi with everything in no time. Big guy Josh left behind in the airport security cells.

"Something tells me that you done this before." Her brother ghost remarks and she makes no matter of showing she heard him.

"Seriously, Josh wasn't a bad guy." Inconvenience number two. Ghost from the Seer side of the family, "You have a thing against your voodoo priestess mother?"

"Driver, drop me off at the Crows nest." She leans to the driver. The look in those eyes. He is possessed by someone. She clicked her tongue, "Or just wherever suitable."

"Oh Miss Fallown, the lady of the house is been waiting for you." She sighed more annoyed. It's not the fault of these normal people. She will just have to hear out the voodoo priestess if she is allowed to be left alone. She would only be endangering herself if she trying to escape the car right now. Further was it was no doubt they make stop at a service station to car swap her. No diverging the plans set.

"You don't fighting yet?" Her door opened as exactly as expected. Out the taxi and into a private fancy car. Josh packing her bag.

"To be fair, in your shoes. A lady like you did the smart thing. I am actually glad you did report me." Josh bows to her, "But I am just part of the folks that look up to your family. Whom been saved by them."

"Nothing is ever free in life." She huffed, "It's nothing personal Josh. I am sorry for any trouble it was. I simply been ignoring both my family's for a while. Now they are working together to seek me out. I have no choose." She pats the big shoulder, "You just dont try to grapple me, OK? I will break arms and tear flesh of those that try to fight me with force. Your a nice guy." He looks at her in wonder if she was joking but she had that cold back burn. She meant it. She was just being nice to warn him.

"Do you have any weapons, Miss?"

"It doesn't matter." She gave business cold smirk. He nods gently and close the boot now. Opens her door. She of course turned the other way into the motor service. He stares watching her. Stays the whole time waiting for her. Gladly she gets that there isn't running away. She just was more comfortable at changing her outfit, freshen up from the airport and a safe meal she knows where it from.

Josh posed bow as she sits down in the fancy limo car. Her undertakers unique armour outfit fitted with the rich lady style. She sits with a seat belt and with making a show of lighting a fake cigarette. She pinned every detail needed of each being here. The fake cigarette wasn't going to cut it. She removed a cigarette that her shadow side smoke all the time instead. The method of lighting this was what spooked them, having purple flame dance in her palm.

"So who wants a slice of pie frist?" She asked breaking the ice, "That's if you can handle the millions of hungry souls that live there."

"Huntress of dreams edge." Something a god would call her. Spoken by a demon that borrowing a body of a Seer. The Seer is in mask form, staring from the after image of their body. The only few that are this way are one the leaders of Fallown side and a elder of the Seer. Seated apart but on the same row. Her mother and father in body borrowing sits along a side. Her brother sits where her praise is, which is beside her. He coughed occasionally from the cigarette smoke. The cigarette is made from dreamland material. They don't affect the living but can be normal cigarettes to the dead spirits. It's one of the few ever times a spirit coughs. Just as demons cough in presence of salt and holy water. Angels sneeze when abusing language is spoken.

"We underestimated how developed you are without us." Speaks the Fallown Madame.

"Time revert back since you were in air. So we are in time disconnection." The Seer huffed.

"Jet lag is inconvenient for you too." The madam over spoke the Seer, "Just what vast abilities have you unlocked. Because small little flame tricks is nothing." Right up the cloud it seems.

"In order to bother trying to trade or hire me for some job. There is rules. I refuse to sign away names. I refuse to give up anything. I grant you no access to my pages until further notice. If someone in my care eats you, I make no special deals to save you. I can't speak for anyone I use to know. But I could maybe make some peace among the other proxy. All that needs to matter is that I seek broken pages. Broken names, realms, objects and souls. It's all I care for. I know my worth and I know the afterlife better than most gods." She draw from the cigarette in long pause to watch facial reactions. None of them are convinced she understands or seems worth the time. If anything, the arrogant actions seals that assumption that she was useless to them. She flicked the ash under her, they are convinced this is a normal cigarette. She rolled eyes of how easy it is to read the mood, "I have nothing to give. Nothing you want. I say you just here to test me. So screw you lot. You are wasting our time."

"If that was true, tell me why you been requested by the god of death."

"Another mess on an important index page or cog ranker. It's none of anyone's business. Explaining further just makes you more confused." She puts out this one and lights another. She holds her arms in her habit. Leaned back and waited for the journey drive to end.

"I need a recommendation." Her father pipes up in changing topic, "I have eight different demon Lords all wanting to hire for this gig. They all want to move off a humanoid hunter in the under passages of damned tunnels." She perked listening.

"Is this humanoid got 12 or 80 eyes? He carries a bunch of tools. Walks around rattling like a loose chain?" She asked back.

"Yeah... that thing."

"Your lucky. You smell of me. He wouldn't hurt you on purpose. You just tell Ragnar to keep shuffling along to another spot. His stuck here because of me." She sighed, "Poor little God eater. He was so happy outside this universe."

"That's thing is a god eater?" Her brother asked.

"They are shape-shifting, so yeah. Ragnar a nervous wreck. He been through a lot. I save his soul a while ago. I think he has a fear of worms. Makes sense when I pulled his corpse out of one. They remembered each lifetime as yesterday." She nods gently, "Don't accept any them demon grease fingers. They all just want the shadow passage for smuggling crap into and out of hell. Flame embers and devil wine is making a trend back... again."

"So causal." Her father remarked, "This Ragnar. Is it his name?" She snorted at that question.

"No! It's his cute pet name I call him. I think he calls me girly. I forgot with which calls me by what nickname." She flicked ash careless and it lands visible of the car floor. How it changed into black sand upon climatic altered form. She doesn't find it off for a little army of paper figure to come collect the black sand, put from under her dream skirt. Furthermore of her putting it put on her own hand and dropping it on purpose to one them paper figures. They saulted to her and back under her skirt.

"Although if the demon that runs a human school comes asking for something. I recommend the guy. He cares about his territory like any other demon. The catch is that his land is eclipsed over living realm soul. So he has to care for humans as equally to his own demon dwellers. It's all about his land, no matter what sort of deal his trying to cut with you. He looks for those with human experience to help with human sensitivities. You two make a good pair for demon living-world realm classes. The class that teaches demons to use microwaves and ovens... and culture and stuff." She flops her left hand, "It's boring. It be like teaching a teacher in mathematics to do mathematics in a new format."

She is indeed nervous but at her own thought, she nervous because it mattered. She may not like her family and didn't choose them. She can still wish to have them as family and have family time. All this business with the afterlife was more a inconvenience in trying to build relationships. The voodoo stuff is their agenda but not hers.