At some point after he left the elevator, most of that fear and bewilderment turned into an impotent kind of anger, and this is propelling him to walk fast, glower a lot, and generally lose his patience with obstacles.
Who are they, anyway, to come waltzing in and to drop like a dead vengefly without any warning? Who are they to taunt him with a cryptic statue and then show up in person and upset his routine? (...Who is he to upset someone who earned their own statue?)
Lemm stops on a long bridge (his running theory is that there were few wings in this district) and draws to one side, his hands resting on the crumbling architecture as he stares sullenly down at the dead city. His eyes fall directly on Fountain Square, and he sighs irritably. Of course he would end up here.
The Hollow Knight has tried to be helpful, has taken to all of his suggestions, dove into a dangerous place to retrieve relics and seemed less than eager when he offered payment. The knight should have read him like a Hallownest sign and known exactly what kind of bug he was from the start. He's not subtle. But they did not. They did not and they did as they were told and he-- he thinks - he is pretty sure they are still diligently following some kind of knight's code. Something that makes them do as they are told. Something that drives them to be helpful.
Stay there, he recites in his head. Stay here. Don't touch. Humour me. His fingers worry at a chip in the rail, made by a javelin maybe. Imperatives. It's all imperatives. Suddenly a lot of things make sense.
When the elevator finally activates again, a bedraggled Lemm steps off it and trudges casually into the shop. He evaluates the still-damp tea stain, the huddled knight under the too-small blanket, the disappearance of the curtain and teacup.
"Hm," he says, marking some of his theories as confirmed, and goes ahead with what he planned to say. "So. I might need to apologise, as it turns out. Are you listening?"
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Who are they, anyway, to come waltzing in and to drop like a dead vengefly without any warning? Who are they to taunt him with a cryptic statue and then show up in person and upset his routine? (...Who is he to upset someone who earned their own statue?)
Lemm stops on a long bridge (his running theory is that there were few wings in this district) and draws to one side, his hands resting on the crumbling architecture as he stares sullenly down at the dead city. His eyes fall directly on Fountain Square, and he sighs irritably. Of course he would end up here.
The Hollow Knight has tried to be helpful, has taken to all of his suggestions, dove into a dangerous place to retrieve relics and seemed less than eager when he offered payment. The knight should have read him like a Hallownest sign and known exactly what kind of bug he was from the start. He's not subtle. But they did not. They did not and they did as they were told and he-- he thinks - he is pretty sure they are still diligently following some kind of knight's code. Something that makes them do as they are told. Something that drives them to be helpful.
Stay there, he recites in his head. Stay here. Don't touch. Humour me. His fingers worry at a chip in the rail, made by a javelin maybe. Imperatives. It's all imperatives. Suddenly a lot of things make sense.
When the elevator finally activates again, a bedraggled Lemm steps off it and trudges casually into the shop. He evaluates the still-damp tea stain, the huddled knight under the too-small blanket, the disappearance of the curtain and teacup.
"Hm," he says, marking some of his theories as confirmed, and goes ahead with what he planned to say. "So. I might need to apologise, as it turns out. Are you listening?"