the knight (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
focusedvoid) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
boxfullofzeroes2022-10-31 05:57 am
focusedvoid) wrote in boxfullofzeroes2022-10-31 05:57 am
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.
no subject
The curiosity... that's the first thing. Lemm is driven by it, and he could do nothing else but recognise it in this shade as they peer about his work. He doesn't look down, but his pen dips to quietly underline the half-page of notation he'd been writing to mark the way for a new section.
He knows what void looks like, now, though he hasn't a clue of its origins. This is shaped distinctly. Lemm glances back at the Knight with the barest movement of his head, compares the visual. Yes, distinct enough. The pen moves again as he looks back to the sibling. (They'd been... curious about his horns. About all of him. That's the strangest part so far. He's no one in particular - meaning they're curious about people. This too gets a note.)
When the shade settles onto the till and the examination seems to be over, Lemm's head turns back to the Knight and fixes them with a pensive stare. After a moment he reaches for the pile of notes under the Arcane Egg and cautiously slides the top one out, lays it flat, and highlights that uncertain plural with more confidence.
Then he breaks. No one's that petty.
"Map's over there," he stiltedly addresses the Knight. "You'll find it intact. The case will help keep it that way." He twirls his quill, searching for something else to say and coming up painfully short.
no subject
They hardly need that case, but recognize the peace offering as what it is. A nod of acknowledgment before they come and take it. In return, somewhat, they produce the journals he'd thrown.
Before they can actually put them on the counter, Sibling pops back up and gets in their face excitedly. No, they can do it! They want to do it! Because they can!
Alright, alright. The Knight gives them one journal, that they manage to barely hold with their tendrils clustered together--they have strength, but their capability to grip when they never have before is doubted. Not enough to bother them, still, Sibling drops it next to Lemm's hand before proudly settling back down.
The Knight deposits the rest with less fanfare and thunking.
no subject
Still. All of this will be pertinent information when he puts detail into his theories. (And it's fascinating to watch. For a minute wasn't even sure the sibling was solid, but their collective certainly proved they are, didn't they. Should have figured.)
His hand drops the pen and scoots to one side, palm-up, to catch the journal before it hits the desk. It's clearly not about preventing damage, because he doesn't fuss at the noise the hefty things make when the Knight dumps the rest. More like... making himself a part of the sibling's little exchange.
He clears his throat quietly, sets down the journal and laces his fingers together. He's never thanked anyone and doesn't intend to start, but he'll chat a bit about his findings like he always does.
"They started with nobodies from the outskirts first. Pressure mounted over time, though, you can see where the reports started getting insistent. More experiments, bigger spells. Towards the end they weren't picky. The King disapproved, but apparently had better things to do than curb their appetite for Soul."
He struggles with the next bit. It's not a historical anecdote, and almost doesn't come out at all, but it needs saying, someone needs to say it even if it has to be him: "Mind what you teach."
no subject
The sudden giving of information is unexpected, though its contents are less surprising. They'd wandered through the evidence multiple times, after all, and there were enough hints to see the outlines of what and how.
It's the last part that raises the Knight's hackles somewhat, not showing outwardly but for stilling further. Is he yet trying to admonish them, or is he trying to warn them in the most uncomfortable way possible? What does he know? What does he believe he knows?
502 bad gateway had my guts there for a sec
The silence goes on a few seconds too long, though, so he's forced to still his pen and tilt his head to one side and say something else, just to avoid getting his shop obliterated in a second by shadow wrath.
"I'm a Relic Seeker, not a creche keeper. I don't have anything else to say."
He keeps fixed on the Knight, clearly avoiding looking aside at the sibling on his till.
f e a r
He's now come face-to-face with some of their deepest horrors, with flinching but not flight nor attempts to be rid of them permanently, so much as making an open-term partnership when he's clearly the asocial type.
All they really notice is how they're more bothered than they should be.
They chalk it up to the recent turbulent time in Shade Lord form. They care little for what they teach in this kingdom. One specific lashing out at a fear that finally can't fight back is hardly a terrible lesson.
It isn't.
...Besides. It isn't as though there will be many more examples to do so again.
They'll return later, Sibling. The Knight beckons for their return.
They do, reluctantly, after taking a full lap around Lemm's head. Again, because they can. They split into orbs of Void and return through the Knight's eyes as they put the map in its new case away.
They bow. (Not quite as deeply as the last time.)
no subject
He's a living, breathing bug, is the thing. He's seen children, even if he was never the type to interact. He's awkward, removed, no interest, no investment, but he knows what children look like.
No need to bow back, he reminds himself. No need to bow to anyone. He's never wanted anything but artifacts and prestige. Best it stays that way.
The moment the Relic Seeker's shop is empty, Lemm's head crashes into his hands and he stays there, processing.