Lemm shifts his foot to avoid as priceless things roll off the counter, thud to the floor on old carpeting and carapacian tiles. His hand is as still as he can make it, but not quite still, as he's stressed and overthinking every little micro-movement and so he makes more of them than he would if he were relaxed and resting on a table.
His hand is on the cloaked shoulder of the Hollow Knight, which is cold, and damp, and unsettlingly still.
Lemm considers for the first time that the mighty memorialised impossible knight may in fact have hypothermia or something.
"I'm not a hotel," Lemm complains, mostly to himself. They are a cold and damp and delirious stranger. This complaint has nothing to do with him leaning down and trying to put their faces on level with each other, seeking some kind of reaction or recognition. "Hey. How many?" He holds up three fingers, in what he hopes is their view. Some buried thought is that he would be well within his rights to toss them out onto the street.
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syntheid
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Date: 2020-08-31 08:07 pm (UTC)His hand is on the cloaked shoulder of the Hollow Knight, which is cold, and damp, and unsettlingly still.
Lemm considers for the first time that the mighty memorialised impossible knight may in fact have hypothermia or something.
"I'm not a hotel," Lemm complains, mostly to himself. They are a cold and damp and delirious stranger. This complaint has nothing to do with him leaning down and trying to put their faces on level with each other, seeking some kind of reaction or recognition. "Hey. How many?" He holds up three fingers, in what he hopes is their view. Some buried thought is that he would be well within his rights to toss them out onto the street.