boxfullofzeroes | 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.

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.

Threaded | Flat

From:

capitalcurator

When there's a puzzle he can't solve (which is more often than he'd like) and when there's no one in his shop (which is more often than not, and he likes that very much), Lemm goes to the Memorial.

It's not because he expects to find answers there, exactly. Fountains can't talk. But this one does remind him why he's here, because even if no answers have been particularly forthcoming about the memorial either, he can't look up at it and not wonder.

It's an excellent reminder that no one can just switch off their curiosity, however frustrating transcribing a badly-damaged journal may be. Which he will return to, and complete. He just needs ten minutes - and the ambient sound of the fountain, and apparently a crick in his neck from staring upwards at a statue he doesn't understand. That usually does the trick, for reasons unknown to bug nor beast.

Except Lemm has already forgotten about the journal, because there is someone here already, and they look like they might be very tall if they weren't curled right over like they're dying.

Lemm has not seen any Infected in a little while, but he is not so foolish as to let down his guard, and he almost turns right back around and leaves the strange scene to play out by itself.

Almost.

Because those horns.

Lemm freezes for a solid minute at the edge of the square, grappling with a fair few self-preservation mantras that have kept him alive and well in the City of Tears for this long, and finally he curses that damned curiosity and moves forwards. Nice and casual. No reason for either of them to alarm each other with sudden movements. He keeps a sharp eye out for signs of any orange glow, stops at what he hopes is a safe distance away, and manages to wrangle up a bit of courage.

"Paying respects?" he asks bluntly, probing for any kind of a reaction. His voice always sounds too loud out here, and he braces. He's not a great runner, but his shop isn't far and the door locks well enough.

Perhaps, he thinks doubtfully, they're related. Distantly. Somehow. That information is worth a little risk.

From:

capitalcurator

Lemm has never bothered much with perfect timekeeping; in the City of Tears it's useless to think in terms of day and night, and though he suspects in its prime there was a cicadian rhythm to things, nowadays it's just him and his relics and he quite appreciates being able to keep to his own schedule.

But he knows it's been a week, give or take, because he has not stopped thinking about meeting the Hollow Knight since it happened. He very well might have dreamed the whole thing if it wasn't for the punctured cleaning cloth, which - just to prove to himself he isn't losing his grip on reality - now takes up a permanent residence on the shelf behind the ranked badges.

Right now, he is taking a tiny brush to the details on a King's Idol, delicately cleaning out the grooves and edges until it's as pale as the day it was made. Things might as well be as normal as they always have been.

...But they are not. Something has changed since a little while before he met the Hollow Knight, and Lemm is becoming so on edge wishing he knew what that when the elevator activates his hand slips and almost takes a chip out of the idol. Lemm goes very still and fixes his eyes on the corridor through the open door.