boxfullofzeroes | voicetest the voiceless

voicetest the voiceless

They're not dead.

Less dead than they'd felt, at least. Their shell doesn't normally take so long to reform.

Then again. Their shell doesn't usually break of their own violation as they ascended in a boiling rage, ate at least one realm, a god, and all the Godseekers.

(That last point is debatable, actually. There's some odd sense, deep under their...shell? Void? Wherever they once stored things like Isma's Tear, much deeper now...that the sea-mind is still there, sluggish and held in a stasis. They're already adjusting enough, and they don't seem to be dying or trying to kill them, so that problem is neatly sorted as 'for later'.)

They push their body to stand. Their horn clangs uncomfortably loudly against the grate they've apparently woken up beneath. They're somewhere in the Royal Waterways. A quick check of the map--or, not so quick, as it takes time to locate where it had been--shows they've risen about halfway through, closer to the City of Tears than the White Palace. They'll go to the Stag Station in the City Storerooms next.

So they think. Complications arise on the way.

The Infection is gone, leaving dead Flukes, Pilflips, and Hwurmps in piles enough it takes time to force their way past. Their body seems too small. No, their body is fine--there's something wrong with perception itself. That will take time to adjust to.

Then, they discover the Monarch Wings now stretch and warp when used, twisting around the nearest pipes after landing before the Knight forcibly calls them back. Shade Wings, they decide to call these.

Once they're high enough to hear the rain above, they realize a noise they'd ascribed to water running in the distance is, in fact, something swirling behind their mask. Many somethings. All the fragments of Siblings with enough self left, staring out from their eyes. It's disconcerting.

By the time they actually get out of the Waterways, they're using their Shade Wings to grip ledges and drag themselves up, with those holding onto things better than their own arms are with the Mantis Claw.

The Knight faceplants awkwardly onto the floor of the building Lemm's shop is in. If the City is the same as below, there's little left to try killing them in the area.

They'll just take a moment here, thanks.

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He waits. Not for too long, though, his patience is notoriously limited.

"...Your skill is with a nail, not a chisel," he points out, hoping that might jog them into handing it over. He may be blunt, but he doesn't snatch things. "Ah. Maybe you're curious about how it's done, eh? As much as I enjoy the work, I can only imagine it to be unspeakably dull to watch. These things take time. Of which most bugs don't have infinite reserves."

Lemm taps his fingers on the counter.

"Myself included. What are you doing?"

They wouldn't mind watching a tedious process. They can be restless, but it can be curbed if they believe there's something worthwhile to find or learn at the end of it.

But they might not need to.

They don't look up. Tracing. Reaching, feeling the darkness inside stir beneath. In layers, as Lemm said. They're hardly an expert on this, so they keep from tearing in from the core outward.

Splitting gently around the shape, it unfurls the top layer of itself like petals.

He's almost about to get out his tools, in case the prospect of watching might actually hurry this exchange along. He doesn't like others hanging around in his shop, but arrangements can be made for an Arcane Egg.

His hands freeze halfway to the drawer.

Lemm considers that he might be seeing things, or perhaps he's actually fast asleep over his translation work, and he'll wake up to the sound of the wandering plague shuffling outside.

He knows this isn't the case, though, sure as he knows this:

"You have been keeping secrets! What - easy, now, careful with that, you..." His hands lift awkwardly over the counter like he means to take the egg from them, but he doesn't dare close the gap, ineffectually hover-handsing and trying not to sputter like a dying candle. "You little sneak, you... You're one of them. All this time, you - how are you doing that?"

The Knight trots closer to offer the Egg directly into his hover-hands. It's open, yes, but what it's meant to say hasn't been directly translated into something they understand.

He keeps asking questions he knows they won't answer. The closest thing they could solidly offer in their current state is activate the Shade Wings further, which would probably knock things over.

Rather than that, they loosely gesture to the window outside. The mess should still be visible from his angle.

"Ah, the... Yes. The deal is still on. I'll... have to recalculate..." Curse him, but he's so worked up he barely manages to steady his hands enough to accept the egg without fumbling the thing.

In complete, reverent silence he draws it closer to himself, peering down at the clean, open ridges. Holding it in his own hands seems to have rendered Lemm speechless, now, and he very carefully transfers it to one hand, reaching for his magnifying lens with the other.

For a time he seems lost in that lens, examining the egg with such tight focus the rest of the room might as well not exist.

Hopefully they're feeling patient.

The Knight considers leaving. They've got other objectives they could be working on.

...They'd prefer to know if anything interesting is found from their newly-learned ability. There's much of this place before Hallownest and the Radiance they'd only fount the tiniest fragments of, which involves part of what they're made from. Even the title that rings more clearly than others, Lord of Shades, comes from that corner of the Abyss left in offering to whatever had gone by that long before.

Besides. Lemm hasn't paid them yet.

The makeshift bench is a perfect place to return and relax on in the meantime.

It is a while before he gives any sign of acknowledgement that the Knight is still here.

But his mind has clearly been racing in that time, because this is what he breaks the silence with:

"Thirteen hundred. And a proposal."

He sets the egg down with such care that it barely makes a sound against the counter, and takes a deep breath, letting it out in a slow, self-calming sigh.

"There must be a reason you keep returning to my shop, and risking my pride to say so, I doubt it was my reputation." He drums his fingertips on the counter, still thinking hard about what to say, how to say it. What not to say, yet. "You've put me in a difficult position. I don't work well with others. But now I know you've your own ties to all this, I'd be mad not to ask. Can I convince you to help me with my work more directly? Unlocking Arcane Eggs would be part of it."

They 'wake' to aim a heavy stare in his direction. Thirteen hundred is a ripoff when they've doubled the information he's got from it.

That the Geo might not matter in the long run keeps them from showing signs of more open irritation, along with it partly being apology from the alarming sight they'd made earlier.

And he hasn't tried to kill them at any point. While being less common for shopkeepers in the first place, it counts for a significant amount. Neither has his previous grumbling ever been insulting enough to cause a genuine internal sting.

The Knight pops up at the unexpected question; their interest is piqued.

He holds their stare. Yes, he now understands they can turn into a huge shadow creature and blow out windows. He's decided at this juncture that they probably will not.

"What? I told you, I prefer to work alone. I'm having to adjust my expectations." He pats the register, as if this has anything to do with mathematics instead of just being a moody Relic Seeker being stingy. "Besides that you're getting a job offer as part of the deal."

Lemm gestures behind him at a shelf with another Arcane Egg on it - this one looking a little bit cracked. He'd tried a little too hard with that one, and it looks like he regrets it now.

"As well as getting into these cleanly, I'll have questions. Hopefully some you can answer, likely many you can't. I know better than to expect you to start chit-chatting, though."

He pauses to fidget with the eyeglass.

"...I'm forced to admit without knowing more about you I can't say for definite what I'll be asking. I'd be a fool to believe today's tricks are the last you've been keeping from me. Very hard to put a contract like that in writing, so we won't have one - but you will be paid for your time, regardless of how it's spent."

The cracked Arcane Egg receives the stare next as the Knight turns the idea over in their thoughts.

A job prying into their business...isn't out of the question. It might possibly go better if they have a moment to organize what they've learned in this ruined kingdom they hatched and rose beneath.

A job that might keep them in place for long likely would be out of the question. The urgency is far less now that the Radiance is dead and they who terrible cry that called them is no longer trapped in its suffering; this hardly means they want to let the changes to Hallownest and its few surviving people go by with their sequestering themselves in one tiny part of it.

Their map is taken out and pointedly held up for Lemm to see. There's a great number of pins, many marked, some known only to them. (...Some no longer known to them. They'll need to check when next nearby.)

He leans in to study the map with some interest. A lot of it is quite imparsable without context, which many bugs surely lack in spades. Lemm has more of it than most - but whatever he does or doesn't notice he keeps to himself.

"You've been around." A pause. Then... relief? He waves a hand at them to dismiss the map. "Ah, I get it. Lots to do and see, eh? I won't hold us to a schedule. For the sake of my purse, limit your time here as much as you like."

His discomfort has always been less important than being a Relic Seeker, and the potential for discovery here is pressing in on all sides. Lemm really would have had to kick himself if he didn't try at all. But he can't claim he's eager for anyone to spend lengthy amounts of time in his shop.

With that important factor cleared up, the map indeed disappears back from whence it came.

Fully agreeable terms. The Knight nods decisively.

Sometimes one shakes on an agreement, or at least acts pleased about it. Other Relic Seekers might. Other bugs might. Lemm doesn't even nod back.

"That's that, then. Here's my first question." He gestures to the Arcane Egg still lying open on the counter, and flashes them a suspicious look. "Did you find all of these things in one place?"

And the map comes right back out.

They're too small for this. The Knight hops straight up to land on the edge of the counter, avoiding knocking anything over as best they can, and lie it flat between them.

Two taps on the Abyss.

He pins his fingers against one edge of the map to help keep it in place. (He'd like to scold them for jumping on his furniture, but what's the alternative? They're right.)

"Pah. So you have a hoard of these, and you're bringing them to me in a trickle on purpose. A cunning market manipulator you are." ...He's not serious. Is he?

Maybe not, because he moves on too quickly for it to be some real accusation he wants to resolve. If they're watching, the Knight might see him pore over the map a little more closely than they perhaps expected. He lingers. Slides his fingers from the edge to the Abyss, and taps a different part of it.

"This." Straight edges, patterning. He's pointing at the lighthouse, of all things. "How did you get - never mind. This is a building?" He'll stick to yes-or-nos for now.

The accused is unruffled. They had hoarded a stack of Hallownest Seals after they realized they were stumbling over so many for emergencies.

They don't mind Lemm's interest, either. They've documented the more of Hallownest than anyone prior to its fall. They're vaguely proud of that.

...Is a lighthouse a building? There is a room on the top of it. And it's called a 'house' to some degree. It hadn't like a building when they were scrambling up the side.

It's certainly something unnatural, so they nod after a bit of a pause.

He follows that answer (good enough!) with a pensive stare back down at the map.
He'd known there was something beneath Hallownest, but he'd never found any clear path deeper. To see how far this traveller's map extends - and then to know there's something constructed down there...

"If you're telling the truth, the only Arcane Eggs I've ever seen were found below a certain depth." Lemm scores his fingertips up and to the right, and taps the Palace. "No higher than this. The king's lot built their foundations right on top."

Lemm studies the map a moment more, then takes his fingers off it and rubs them idly against his thumb. "Very clever of you to find a way down." He doesn't suppose it's a light hike. "Do you really do all this for the Geo?" he asks suddenly.

They were lucky to find another inside the sea of their dead siblings. If there are more--

...well, they might be able to find them now. They never would have had a chance, before, to dig their way down. But if they call it...

Their Siblings are unbothered with the idea. The Knight's Shade Wings wrap in tendril around themselves as they stare blankly down, softly asking why. If they had been so terribly panicked by the bodies in the building above, they should be more concerned about their returning there.

Countless flickers of dark-old-new-horror rocks back to them with shaky gentleness. The Abyss had been all they knew for so long, the sight of their own broken corpses was commonplace. It was what it was. Above? In the new place their strongest living Sibling had? They shared their memory and knew that was wrong. And they had been without living bodies for so long, watching from inside one when pressing against those empty shells of other bugs...that was different, bad, memory-rousing horror.

The Abyss was miserable, but it was not so scary. Strongest Sibling would get them out if Strongest Sibling wanted.

That hits them somewhere raw. That part of them that hadn't forgotten the sight of someone like them but faster, someone like them with horns leaving afterimages against blinding bright, disappearing into the light.

Quietly, they sit down.

They have no need for lies at the best of times. Now, emotion swells to the surface to banish even considering it.

Geo was important, but no, it wasn't all of it. The Knight shakes their head to share as much.

What a strange inner life you must have, to spend so long answering a simple question. But even with this new agreement between them he said they could 'limit their time how they liked', and he supposes that goes both ways.

Lemm busies himself examining the Arcane Egg again while he waits. With the information presented so cleanly, translation is much easier, and there's nothing missing where a chisel slipped or a caliper pried too hard. Parchment is laid on the counter, and for a while the only sound is the rain outside and the scratching of his pen.

He catches their small motion without glancing up. "Good," he says, and goes back to writing. "Geo's what drives a scavenger, and scavengers don't learn anything." He finishes scribbling and gives a resigned sigh as he commits to sharing what he's got.

"Reverence to the dark. This I already knew. Though in this case it's presented oddly, paired with some indication of a self wherever it's mentioned. I'd have missed it in the others - too fragmented." A pause. "'Dark' isn't right, either. If I wasn't careful I'd translate it to absence-of-the-self, but that's where the grammar breaks down." He twirls the quill thoughtfully. "I'm a very careful translator. But absence-with-a-self is impossible, so we're back to square one..."

He looks up, finally, at the wanderer brooding in his shop. He looks very thoughtfully at the way the light seems to vanish into those dark tendrils like there's nothing there at all.

Ironic that part of the answer is right in front of him, caught up in throes of emotion.

They'd like to deny those emotions are their own. The solid sense of trust--that isn't. Their capability is something they believe in, coming from exhausting experiences and self-taught cold practicality. The trust holds an undercurrent of childish confidence, that someone else can 'make it better'...that the Knight specifically can make it better. When none of them had held such a chance to hold hope before they'd broken. When the Knight directly sent so many prodding siblings back into the dark when they came too near before the Voidheart.

Discoveries bring satisfaction. Giving assistance, too, can bring satisfaction. It's part of why they brought those relics back.

This current discovery and consequence of their assistance to their Siblings is rather overwhelming.

Habit turns their head to stare toward Lemm and his mutterings, giving false attention with eyes that, as ever, hold deep nothing underneath.

He falls quiet for a bit, staring back with not quite as much vacancy, but still about as much as the average bug can muster.

"Hm," he says.

He is not back to square one. The inkling of something is there, though what it says about every other fragment of information he's got has yet to become clear.

The trouble with discoveries like this is they're very hard to believe and commit to. Plus, making any sort of wild claim in a scholarly pursuit like Relic Seeking needs evidence and reason and peer review and well-dressed fact and context, context, context.

What he has is not context. What he has is a lot of work to do and a strange little masked shadow sitting in his shop doing... what are they doing?

"You're very still," he points out, not as unkindly as he could. What are you thinking-? no, What ARE you-? no, no, no. Get out of my shop already. Absolutely not, no, he shrinks from that one with a barely-noticeable shake of the head. "...Paying attention?"

They twitch a tiny bit in acknowledgement. If they let themselves relax--try to relax--they're pretty sure the Shade Wings will spill all over the counter.

Partly paying attention. Almost.

...They're sort of trying.

They can't answer yes or no truthfully. Headshake, eventually. Knock a tap against their mask. (It sounds rather like there's liquid in there. That's another new discovery.) Technically, they're thinking. About the beings living in their head and shadow.

Lemm's not privy to these things yet, and reading the Knight well is already a level of expertise he doesn't have. But they've never been this quiet... relatively speaking.

"Aye, aye. Shouldn't have suggested working together. Now you're spending time in here. I don't run a spa."

But he's not completely dense. Something's off. What would someone else say? Or do? Nothing that Lemm's prepared to, certainly.

Sigh.

"I usually go for a walk," he mutters uncertainly, "when I'm stuck on something." He'll just... see how they react to that, first.

Kicking them out, hmm. That's fair. That's more than fair. They...perhaps shouldn't be staying so close when they're feeling this much.

They agree with a head-bob and tap the map once, vaguely towards the Soul Sanctum, and jump off the counter to walk a little quickly toward the exit.

They'll be back soon; they leave the map.

Wait, but he-

No, that's right. That's what he intended. Lemm taps fingers on the counter and watches them leave.

Slides the map towards himself, just to check what they pointed at and to give himself something to do that isn't think of other things he could have said.

"Absence-with-a-self," he muses out loud, and stares at the Abyss portion of the map for a while. "But who said it's impossible? ...Pah. I'm getting nowhere."

He rolls up the map and tucks it into a sturdy, well-travelled bag, takes his umbrella, and goes out, too. Not because the little warrior did! Because he... is stuck. And because his earlier walk was interrupted and...

His feet will take him to Fountain Square, and usually he'd stop there. Today he... may not, depending.

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