Hollow Knight / Pure Vessel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
impure_void) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
boxfullofzeroes2020-08-24 06:43 am
impure_void) wrote in boxfullofzeroes2020-08-24 06:43 am
there's so many things that you'll never understand
MEMORIAL TO THE
HOLLOW KNIGHT
------------------------
In the Black Vault far above.
Through its sacrifice Hallownest lasts eternal.
HOLLOW KNIGHT
------------------------
In the Black Vault far above.
Through its sacrifice Hallownest lasts eternal.
There's a figure at the base of the fountain, bent double, yet still taller than most bugs that once wandered these streets.
The Hollow Knight was sealed before it was raised in the center of the City. In all their glimpses of the world through Infected eyes, they had never seen this--this figure of themselves, towering high above the Dreamers that protected them, sacrificed everything for them, only differentiated by the carving of each mask.
This should not matter.
The emotion that is their flaw screams it does. Why--?
--This figure of them should not have ever been here. The Pale King prioritized their image above the living. A memorial to a thing. A memorial to a failure, still standing tall, lie inscribed for the straggling remains to see.
They should not wonder why. They should not feel the wound in their chest throbbing with new pain. Do not think, do not feel, do not do not do not--
Gendered Child, sister, told them they may go, and they have gone.
And they are here, beneath the shadow of a false Purity, beneath pounding rain in an empty City.
Nothing about this spurs them to move. Their mask presses flat against fountain's base, hard enough to ache.
They empty their mind, and wait.
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He takes the cloth and his thumb rubs at the fabric, worries at the frayed hole.
"...I'm not fond of repeating myself," he says a little less sternly this time, "but I'll make it clear: my shop is not a place for moping, if that's what you're doing. Up!" Lemm turns, and baps their shoulder harmlessly with the cloth as he steps towards the door, stands beside it, holds it open. "Up and out. Show that to the City, not my seal collection."
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The tone, or changing thereof, is hardly noticed. Words spoken are most important. Vessels do not understand nuance, as the Pale King discovered early.
(Nor do children. But this was never allowed to cross either of their minds.)
If realizing what they are and are not (again, and again, and again, somehow freshly terrible each time) is moping, then it seems that's what they're in the process of. This action is incorrect; they have no further purpose here.
Their mind edges towards wondering where the rest of his questions are. They discard it.
Leaving is difficult, attempting to get out without knocking anything over or being too graceless, but they squirm from the shop as carefully as possible.
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...But the debate doesn't take long regardless, and Lemm follows quietly behind them like he realises he'd intended as soon as he opened his mouth.
"Back on the elevator," he instructs gruffly from behind them as he closes the door and turns the key. "Let's take a walk. No good ever came from sitting and stewing over anything." And he falls into step.
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(This may be where his questions are.)
They don't look to him until they're wherever he chose to go, shifting aside and lifting into a crouch, ample room for his lead.
assuming there are. other streets. wdym the world isnt actually 2d
When they step off the elevator, Lemm keeps a liesurely pace - not that he thinks this looming creature with their lamp-post stride needs him to slow down any further. He does not lead the way to the plaza and its fountain - seems a little gauche - and instead heads the other way and out into the rain, turns down a side street, and just walks.
"Never sit around when you're stuck on something. A bug will stagnate that way." Lemm tries to make himself sound inconvenienced. Then, directly: "You're not what I expected. Not that I expected you."
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The Relic Seeker's words are committed to memory, spoken nearly like an order, though the scope of it is beyond their understanding. It's up to the ones around them to alter their terms to change them until they are not 'stuck'. Why--a Vessel has no need to be capable of change on its own.
They tilt their head to look at him.
The water from above gathers in the mask's crack and blinded eye. They know little of what they are expected to be, anymore.
They wait for a question.
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--In strange ways he can't read.
"What I mean is I thought you'd be more..." Lemm tilts his head pensively, still not making eye contact. "...Grandiose," he decides, flourishing dully with the hand that holds his door key. "There's nothing wrong with a knight being modest, but then I don't think you're modest, either." That's-- he doesn't mean it like that, but too late, it's said. He hurries to his point as he finally glances across. "I'm not your captain of the guard, and I'm no monarch, either. If you're looking for leadership, you'll find none with me. I'm just a Relic Seeker, understand? I'm no one."
No questions yet, unfortunately.
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Grandiose. That would be a better descriptor of the Great Knights, with their power, loyalty, and glory for the good of the kingdom. They were amazing people.
They are not. They never were, even as Pure as they had seemed, as masterful as their use of Soul had been, second to only the Pale King. They are not a person, they are not a someone as the Relic Seeker is someone. He claims to be of no importance--he may not have been in Hallownest's old days, though the pursuit of knowledge was encouraged--but now, he is a rare being that still exists, thrives, in what's left. He holds desires, he has thoughts, he has voice that enforces these things.
He may not want power, he may be no other Knight or royalty, but he is greater than they by virtue of being truly alive.
They dip their head more, barely, as he did pose a question. No. They do not understand.
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Lemm is not sure what to make of that. He studies them carefully for a second, notes the little trail of water following that crack in their mask, thinks they're going to have to dry their face later, and irritably tightens his hand around the cleaning cloth.
He can't think of a sufficient way to rebuke an I don't understand, so he just gets his hackles up.
"Well, it's not fair to argue about who's more important than who until I know why your memorial is standing in the middle of the capital! Until I know that, I can't make my point. Maybe you didn't do anything at all, and some eccentric mason just thought you cut a dashing figure." He jabs his key in their direction accusingly. "But I doubt it."
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They were never a higher level of aesthetically pleasing than most things from the Palace did. The rare beings that learned of their existence seemed to have found them intimidating, not dashing.
The Hollow Knight shakes their head. The pool that's been gathering in their eye dumps out.
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"That's what I thought. So whatever you did, someone thought it was worth a statue. A knight's a knight."
He turns his attention to the scenery for a moment or two, letting the white noise of the rain and the empty old buildings remind him to stay grounded. Then, he comes out with:
"And no one ever got to be a knight by having a good time, did they?" He sighs. "Preserving and understanding history is important - though a lot of bugs don't seem to think so! But it's not important enough to dredge up nasty memories in someone who's still alive, so I'll be keeping my thoughts to myself. You know where to find me if you ever feel like having any of it written down."
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Someone. Yes. Only one being would be capable of putting something in the center of the Capital, or know enough of them to even make an accurate depiction of how they looked.
The Pale King had no reason to do that, and yet the Fountain stands.
Still stands, despite the failure of their purpose.
A knight's a knight.
They look from the Relic Seeker to the hand clamped around their Nail.
They want to tell him--tell him, though he has not asked for this answer, and Void buzzes uncomfortably--they are not all that useful. They were not a Great Knight, they are a Hollow one. The emotions that run through them aside, they saw so little of the world in its prime, and their memories of it are fragments and tainted by Dream.
But they have no voice to speak, and no ink to write with.
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He's still setting the pace, leading them on a deliberately aimless wander through the city. They pass a building with furniture piled up in the doorway, and a lift with the switch handle removed. Lemm's eyes linger briefly on these, and he thinks about how so far no bugs have come running at them with claws outstretched, no one has swept down upon them from the air. Haven't in a while. The Hollow Knight's sudden reappearance cannot be a coincidence! ...But since the Nailsmith up and vanished his only source of information had been the little ghost, and they haven't been back in a while either.
Lemm glances up at the Hollow Knight, trying again to get a read. There's no harm in that, he thinks, because he's not asking. Just observing.
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They do not look around. Showing interest was disallowed for their Pure existence, and then agonizing during the Infection. A silence walk will not change this.
...They already had on their way in, passing empty building after empty building. The shame burned then, and the point of this is...not that.
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The Hollow Knight is giving their attention to nothing at all, unless he speaks directly to them - yes, he's noticed.
This isn't doing much for you, is it.
"My name is Lemm, by the way." Might as well build one bridge before they tire of this and leave. "I'm not sure there's much of a market for knights right now, so if you're short on geo, you should know I'll pay you for any artifacts of interest you run across."
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Lemm. A name. Of course--bugs have names, not only titles.
Something uneasy rises again. Though they are missing much of their life in the White Palace, they are nearly certain that none had ever offered their name to the Hollow Knight.
And of course they had not. They needed no knowledge. His title yet seems to hold more importance, given first.
...They have no need for geo, but that is comfortably near an order--artifacts of interest is another terribly vague thing, but it's better than nothing at all.
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It would be silly to prolong this any further. He's wasted enough of their time, and anyway they've outstayed their welcome. Knighthood or not, Lemm doesn't do visitors and company.
"...I should be getting back to the shop."
Reluctant? Him? Never. He also won't say anything like take care or don't be a stranger because it's none of his concern whether they come back or not.
He does, however, slow to a halt and say, "You don't need directions, do you?"
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...The Relic Seeker--Lemm--asked few questions.
They look up at the buildings that surround them. They aren't certain where they are, nor do they much care. They had no goal, and have barely one now. They can find their way back to the shop if they find relics; it is near the Fountain, and the location of that is seared into their mind as though She put it there. They will find their way.
--This is a question that needs an answer. They shake their head.
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"Pah. Of course not. You probably know this city better than I do." He makes a mild shooing motion with his hand. "Go on, then. I'm going home."
Without much ceremony and forgetting a proper goodbye, Lemm turns to head back the way they came. The fact he took a walk with the Hollow Knight notwithstanding, everything else about this situation is just reminding him why he moved into the city in the first place. He's made a royal mess of this interaction. This would be embarrassing enough if it were anyone else, but it had to be them!
Lemm is, privately, in a fairly bad mood.