A knee bends. Lemm's few gathered tablets are hugged close to himself with tense arms as he stares down and slips quite by accident into the role of terrified observer.
He knows by now that this - this dark, boiling wrath - is the small, cloaked stranger who stops by to sell him relics, though it's hard to believe now he's seeing it in person and not from a distant window. That's a body they're tossing, with their impossible arms and claws and sharp edges...
It was that little cloaked stranger who splintered the whole Sanctum. That is easier to believe now he's walked through its rubble, and it threads the needle nicely for Lemm as he finally commits to fully believing what he already knew. It's not impossible for them to be this, just as absence-with-self isn't really impossible. As someone-as-nothing, as void-self, as the-presence-of-none or whatever other translations he's tried to make fit.
Lemm spills stone writings into the pit as he grabs the edge of the broken floor, leaning over as the splash of puddle-water gleams in midair. He musters every little iota of courage he has (not much, for the record) and, flustered, more than a little afraid for what it means to say something, making a breakthrough on the spot:
oh key kitty what do you have. IS THAT PLASTIC. DROP IT
He knows by now that this - this dark, boiling wrath - is the small, cloaked stranger who stops by to sell him relics, though it's hard to believe now he's seeing it in person and not from a distant window. That's a body they're tossing, with their impossible arms and claws and sharp edges...
It was that little cloaked stranger who splintered the whole Sanctum. That is easier to believe now he's walked through its rubble, and it threads the needle nicely for Lemm as he finally commits to fully believing what he already knew. It's not impossible for them to be this, just as absence-with-self isn't really impossible. As someone-as-nothing, as void-self, as the-presence-of-none or whatever other translations he's tried to make fit.
Lemm spills stone writings into the pit as he grabs the edge of the broken floor, leaning over as the splash of puddle-water gleams in midair. He musters every little iota of courage he has (not much, for the record) and, flustered, more than a little afraid for what it means to say something, making a breakthrough on the spot:
"Aye!"