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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Sick? They know that's a bad thing, a very very bad thing. They don't understand how it might make them sick, but they pull their tendrils back anyway, and float a little to Lemm's other side for good measure.

A bit delayed, they mimic his finger-wiggling as best they can. See, they get it, no touching things that make them sick.

He watches with a kind of odd reserve, like he caught himself in the act of being terribly ordinary about something and the brakes kicked in a little too late. He's not sure how to conduct himself any more.

The tendril-waggle at least seems to unfreeze him.

Lemm sighs. "Alright, you understand well enough. Come, then, I guess I should encourage curiosity for curiosity's sake." He gives a vague gesture around. "This place received goods coming into the city. Presumably things going out, too, though I've yet to find much evidence of the latter. Most imports would have been basic supplies - food, writing materials, building materials... And tributes to the King, maybe, though most of that sort of thing was looted long before I got here. If you can find anything in this mess that takes your interest, I'll explain what I can."

Another whistle-hiss at King, accentuated with a headshake. No King anything. They don't care about that at all.

The rest is good! They'd like to know everything! The gesture they do probably doesn't indicate that so much, since it comes out as a full-body wiggle at most. But the first thing they see that they do, definitely, really want to know about is...

...the lights! The lumafly lights, still fluttering and glowing in the rain. Three-horned Sibling flies up about halfway up the pole and points, not quite brave enough to get closer.

He catches it enough to gather they're not keen on the word King, though he can't grasp any of the gravity of it. He's not particularly fond of the King either, mostly just because the guy seemed absolutely hell-bent on making a Relic Seeker's job difficult.

He idly watches them float about as he mulls that over... Ah.

"Lumaflies," he calls up, following most of the way and giving the pole a gentle rap with the back of his fingers. "Little glow-bugs they are. We still use them nowadays to light up dark places. I'm not sure what they live on, but they're very long-lived regardless and they don't complain much."

Why don't you know about these, though?

"I think there's someone going around here replacing the ones that break or die out, but I've never seen them at it. Do you want a closer look?"

Oh! A Lumafly, like the one Strongest Sibling carried to see for a while. Three-horned Sibling notices how the shape is the same, too. Why leave some up there, and not carry one all the time?

They partly want to get closer, even touch it...but at the same time...it's pretty bright. It makes them nervous. Strongest Sibling can hold one in their paws, and they're not nearly as strong. They sink back down, shaking their head.

Next, the point at the hefty shells on wheels. They're extra shiny in the rain. What are those?

Meanwhile, the Knight's decided to challenge the first Pantheon again. A strange thing to do, intentionally hindering themselves even further than before they ascended. A Binding, for...something like fun.

They get far before Oro and Mato defeat them. The stakes being far lower, they'd been distracted trying the Dream Nail and genuinely paying attention, unlike when they only did it in scrambles for Soul.

They've been avoiding each other. They miss each other. They wish to fight with each other, and using the Dream Nail when they were awake seemed to point away from any of these occurrences.

...Mato was presumptuous, but kind. Oro had loneliness and his own sort of kindness hidden behind his gruff demeanor. The Knight considers being a busybody, now that the two of them seem less likely to die of disease.

Their sea of tendrils ripples while they slowly rise from Dream.

"Fair enough. I've known bugs who're squeamish about anything so small."

Lemm is kind of engrossed. It's easy to forget, over and over, that this isn't a normal situation with a normal little kid, and he has to keep reminding himself. And too easy by far to forget he's only getting along with them because they don't seem to know any better.

He follows around after the little shade dispensing wisdom and manages not to think about it all hard enough to stop.

"Ah. Now," he begins, and pats the side of the cart so that it makes a hollow sound, "it takes a fitter fellow than a historian to do the work, but you'd stand... here, and lift." He mimes, vaguely. He's not about to bother trying. "Carts like this are a large part of why bugs have advanced the way we have. Never break your shell over something you can use a tool for."

But why don't you know this already?

He's too busy thinking about that to notice the shift in atmosphere, at least not yet.

Three-horned Sibling mimics his pat, delighted at the noise it makes. They do it a few more times, going so far as to duck down headbutt it, making the loudest noise they can! It also makes them shake a bit, but it's well worth it.

Okay...next...next, another container like the one he opened before, but a little bigger. Will that have more sick-making stuff, or something more interesting?

The Knight goes from 'asleep' to much more awake after they try to lift their head up, only to smash their crown of hornlike tendrils against the ceiling. Their resulting scrambling is painfully ungraceful. They un-form, reform, and the whole sea of them retracts to the Lord of Shades' body only for it to slide down and fall directly onto their entire face.

Fuck.

Three-horned Sibling glances up in faint confusion before turning back to Lemm. It's fine, and he's more important right now.

Edited 2022-11-10 21:39 (UTC)

He moves slightly as if to try and stop them when he sees them pulling back for the headbutt, but... well, he's still a little wary, despite everything. He settles for putting his hands on his hips judgementally and going: "Don't give yourself a headache. You aren't a horn wrestler."

He's quick to cater to their whims when they approach a container, though. Again, it's too easy. "Don't get excited. There'll likely be nothing in here but long-gone provisions." He digs his fingers into the groove near the top of the container - and then he hears the distant thud, because they really aren't far away and the city has never been quieter.

Lemm freezes, head immediately tilted up at the high balcony of the Stag Station, and he stays that way as the rush of shadows pours itself back up and out of sight.

Slowly, he dares to look back down at the little shade. They're unbothered, it seems.

But Lemm is. Lemm is suddenly brought back to his senses and he knows that there is a volatile wanderer upstairs and that he is just a bug, and that this is not some neighbourhood kid with no teachers to look to, it's - he doesn't know, but it's the wanderer's. And in any case he's never been good with people, and never even thought about whether he'd be any good with... What business does he have here, really?

His fingers uncurl from the lid. He pats it with finality.

"Enough. With me, little greenhorn."

Relic Seeker Lemm heads for the route up.

The Knight further gathers their body back into their usual tiny form. They do notice--or rather, they're quickly informed by nervous others--that there's a Sibling missing somewhere below, which doesn't quite hurry them. Lemm should be safe enough.

...There's an actual gigantic imprint in the grime on the floor of their distinctive face-shape, eight eyes and all.

Fuck, again.

They're disappointed, but that's forgotten quickly enough with his beckoning as distraction. Three-horned Sibling comes along merrily, thinking over what Lemm just called them. Greenhorn? Like...Greenpath? Green horns would be nicer than white or black. Greenhorn! Three-horned-Greenhorn, following on the same side of Lemm's head as his horns, almost--but not quite!--close enough to touch.

In the middle of the path, the pair will find the Knight standing there, rubbing at their face despite nothing being physically on it. Ugh. They dispise politicking and they dislike sleeping when they aren't prepared for it.

After Lemm's in view for a moment, they glance up and give a half-hearted nod before going back to it.

The grime isn't even the problem. Sleep always left them with a strange sense of accumulated filth around their eyes, and ascending hasn't made a difference.

Lemm is just reassured that they're following him at all. He's more than a bit scared of what the consequences might be if this doesn't sit well with the host. Best to return the little one to their... ah, family, or whatever this dynamic is, before he looks like he's trouble.

He's acutely aware of the presence near his horns. He's going to look strange. He always looks strange. Nothing he can do about that.

Lemm arrives in the Stag Station with his momentary companion, and he is about to say something but the Knight nods, so he just nods in return and hopes the reunition goes smoothly enough that he can duck out before anyone's the wiser that he was really there at all.

No such luck. Sibling briefly wobbles through the air closer to let them know how Lemm showed them things, and named them Greenhorn! And then they wobble right back to Lemm when the Knight doesn't immediately call them.

The Knight gives Lemm a measured look once their eyes seem less disgusting. (Now that they're more aware of what they are...perhaps some Void spills out and crusts over? It's a theory.) Greenhorn. Not the most flattering title.

...Better than ghost of a place one has no memory of, and they've come to accept it all the same.

Now back in front of Lemm, inadvertently blocking his sight from the little wanderer, Greenhorn points up to the Stag Station sign, expectant. They sort of know what that is, but he knows more!

So. He has confirmed that the big one, the one he knew first, is still alive and apparently doing fine. The spillage in the stagways and storerooms was just normal and natural. Alright.

Lemm waits desperately as the wanderer stares at him. Dismiss him, let him go home. Please. He's not suited to this environment, he needs to be alone and forget he ever interacted. Let him go.

The little shade gets his attention, and he starts like he's awakened from a daze.

"...City Storerooms, Stag Station," he reads plainly, looking up but aware the Knight is watching him and hating every second of it. "Stags were a primary mode of transport. Fast legs," he's being watched by someone he isn't directly talking to and he hates that, "and they apparently took well to the routine of carrying bugs about. I'll be going," he declares suddenly, and turns.

Just as Lemm turns, the Knight is beginning to pull out their map, which takes a little more work now that it has a case to fiddle with. They pause mid-movement to look at him in faint puzzlement their mask can't properly express.

Greenhorn is staring, a little lost as he cuts himself off. That's about the general Stags, but they thought he'd say a little more about this one.

...Maybe they scared him again? Greenhorn sinks down until they nearly brush the floor. It wasn't them who did it, but maybe he thinks they did something to wake Strongest Sibling--Knight, that's their name--back up...

The truth is Lemm just scared, maybe by no one in particular. Not even just because of the Knight witnessing that he's here, but also compounded with other, older, far-more-buried complications regarding a long-time antisocial and his ability to be part of anything.

Relic Seeker Lemm makes it to the door, and he stops, and he remembers at least some of the manners that people use, and he dips his head in an over-the-shoulder nod to excuse himself. "This one's a scholar," he says... and immediately regrets it. Bad bad stupid thing to say.

Out, out, out. He storms down steps and along corridors and hurries home. Maybe he will leave if bugs start moving into Hallownest. Maybe it'd be best.

Greenhorn settles back into the Void, confused and discontent. They must have scared him. But he said they were a scholar? A good thing, the Knight assures, though slightly uncertain.

The Old Stag comes when they ring the bell. He's somewhat wary, but dutiful as ever, though he requests they not do what they did with the 'black stickiness' near the Stagways again. They agree, and head on.

Dirtmouth, first, where they equip Grimmchild. Their nerve fails them before they reach the tents, as it had several near-attempts before. They backtrack, buy a new set of pins from Iselda (a shiny dark green), and decide they'd prefer exploring Crystal Peak.

A great number of dead miners litter the tunnels and shafts. Far more creatures that used crystal spikes of defense died where they continue to cling, simpler obstacles than when they lived, but still in the way. The ones with light beams scorching the walls have stopped doing that in death.

Some of the miners' pick-claws are left on the floors of empty rooms. That could be positive, if some left instead of dying in place.

...There is still no sign of Myla. They don't like that.

The Knight plans to see Mato. Instead, they find themselves in the company of Sheo and the Nailsmith, where they take some time to be calm. They decline their offer to join in their drawing, though they may at another time, with how several Siblings watch with interest.

The Archives are locked. The Shade Lord could force their way inside. They decide they'll return later.

They loop back to the City. They had an agreement with Lemm. Surely, it's been long enough since they startled him? If not, they'll learn as soon as they darken the door to his shop.

Lemm's been busy. It's not just the City he's been familiarising himself with, this time - he's quite content with his understanding of the layout as it stands.

There really are so many places he can go now that the infection is gone. The whole world has opened up. Lemm isn't keen on the wider implications for the future, but he'd be mad not to admit it's a relief to be able to pick his route at liesure and not spend half of the day hiding.

He goes on his first proper expedition since the infection got bad. It's an easy one on purpose, just up and around and through the old Crossroads to the edge of Greenpath. His route does not slow when it takes him below the well, and if it does there's no one around to see.

By the time he returns to his shop to take down the note he habitually left on the door, he's feeling much less on edge. Hallownest is still blissfully quiet, and he's a few new puzzle pieces for his efforts.

The Knight will find him studying charcoal rubbings and comparing dialects. Nothing seems amiss, though he avoids mentioning their deal right away.

"On the counter if you're selling."

It appears Lemm isn't immediately upset, in either anger or panic. Or his anger masking panic. A far better reception than they realized they were bracing for until it didn't happen.

They've had plenty more time to muse on how unsettling they must seem during their wanderings. They hadn't quite considered how Hallownest has made them...complacent, perhaps. Others here have made assumptions about them, but of their capability being a genuine threat were few and far between. Lemm hasn't seemed too affected in the long run. This doesn't mean not at all.

They're also at a loss of what to do about it as of now. (They're grateful they put Grimmchild back when they made questioning noises in Dirtmouth. Spitting fire and dancing shadow is not a match to appear the opposite of dangerous.)

Rather than stopping at the counter, the Knight quietly walks past it. They'll simply...stare out at the rain until he's finished, or speaks up.

There is something off, because he does not shoo them on their way as soon as it's clear they don't have anything to sell. It's not long before he pipes up regardless, though. As much as he claims otherwise, Lemm really is a chatter. It's just that usually bugs talk back and he doesn't like that so much.

"The old kingdom's finally dead for good, it seems," he remarks over the top of a piece of parchment. "No doubt some must be rejoicing somewhere, even if it's from beyond the grave. This place had more than a few sour relations, and it's been clinging on with an iron grip for a long time."

A short pause.

"I don't expect anything from you, lit- wanderer. But I'd like to know what you are before I get myself in any more trouble."

Hallownest is dead, yes, though corners of it still live. If those parts even count as such. Hornet still calls herself its princess-protector beside the Queen of Deepnest; the White Lady doesn't seem to have left her Gardens, though the Knight hasn't checked to know, really.

They can't help but pity her a little alongside their disgust at her locking herself away, awaiting one like them. They should take a moment to look. Later.

Lemm expects nothing? That feels a little odd. They had a deal. When they turn, they nod, though they also point to the nearest Arcane Egg. (Or wherever it is, if it's out of their line of sight. They can still sense its general place.)

Edited 2022-11-11 12:56 (UTC)

The one with its first layer revealed is still sitting in plain view - he's returned to it more than once, and it seems to have taken semi-permanent residence on the counter for now. Lemm seems to be keeping it in his sight for some reason rather than packing it away neatly.

"...If you insist." As if it took any convincing! He gestures to the egg as well. "Have at it. You'll be paid all the same no matter who you are. I'm telling you now I won't be strongarmed." Empty boasting. They could take the whole register and leave through the window and Lemm knows he'd be able to do nothing about it.

Lemm puts down the page he'd been studying and folds his hands together on the counter, just casually preparing to watch closely if they do in fact intend on taking another whack at it. He'll ask his questions in a minute when he's built the courage for it.

That going first is just fine. The Knight hops up onto the counter rather than carry the Egg off, staring it down.

It's already open on the top layer...the shape it appeared to have bloomed around goes deeper, but...differently?

Crouching, they trace their blunt little clawtips over that again, feeling into the dark. The layer difference is thicker here, though it seems thinner even further in. Their reach gently splits along the shape, and then a little further--the Knight twitches when the thing seems to pop open rather than bloom. The next layer ends up sticking out more like the rings of a cooked onion someone pushed the center halfway from than a flower. It appears this is still correct when they flip it over, with the original strange shape on the outside sticking out on the protruding part.

The entire thing's silhouette...doesn't quite make sense. There shouldn't be enough room for that to have pushed out, even with layers hidden. Just as there shouldn't be enough space behind the Knight's mask to fit all the Void inside.

He watches so attentively in the mild hopes that whatever they're doing is something he can replicate, but Lemm isn't massively surprised to find he can't figure it out this time either. A bit disappointed maybe but not surprised. He's probably the first to see this done in several hundred years.

Lemm waits until there's room to do so without getting in their way, and then reaches out to trace careful fingertips over some of the more fractal-looking parts. He's delicate as ever, frowning at the thing as the logic of it runs out. Lemm reaches for a quill-

No, he'll start in a minute. He tears his eyes off the egg and skips the quill, opens the till instead and counts out another hundred Geo. He loosely rests his hand on top of it, first.

"Tell-"

So far their answers have been fairly limited in scope, and this is a rather broad thing to ask. But maybe he'll get something out of it, even if it's a slap on the wrist and the knowledge not to ask again. Lemm tilts his horn in the direction of the still-open till, implicit that this is another part of the deal. He did say he'd have questions.

"Tell me about you."

Edited 2022-11-11 14:33 (UTC)

Right there on the counter, the Knight sits down.

They have no real need to refuse. Nor, to their own surprise, a pressing desire to try avoiding it, though Lemm couldn't stop them from walking out and going back to only relic-selling, if that.

It is broad. Extremely. Not an entirely new question. New in Hallownest--new since they've learned enough to potentially answer with more than gesture to their blade and the next path they're heading on. 'Little wanderer' was an apt title.

There's...so much. They--they actually want it known. Whatever 'it' is. To tell about the Knight, the Ghost of Hallownest, kingdom they barely knew that haunted them with their never dying, never knowing, chased by a scream they barely hesitated in following before even thinking to question why. The Vessel that almost made it. The Shade Lord, made of the Void united, and the many hatchlings that were left to die within it that couldn't fully let go even when the darkness called.

They make several aborted movements. To almost take out the map. Stopping. Consulting with Siblings, who have little to offer but Greenhorn's flicker of enthusiasm. Taking the map out, setting it down. Not actually pulling it open. Looking at the quill Lemm nearly picked up.

Looking at it for a very long time.

Edited 2022-11-11 14:56 (UTC)

Lemm is struggling with the long silence. He looks away for a while, takes his hand away from the Geo to scratch anxiously at his beard and then pushes up from his seat and thinks, I'll just go. I'll make them leave, then I'll go for a walk. No I won't. Coward. Sit back down.

"It's..." he tries, painfully aware of himself and that he is now standing up as if he has something important to say, which he does not. "I don't need all the answers. Just enough to know who I'm making deals with. That's all I want." No it's not, really.

He does not sit back down now that he's already standing, but he does pick up the Arcane Egg (carefully) and wander over to the window with it.

No, it's not all you want. Shouldn't have said anything. You've curbed them before they even started, if they'll start at all. Take it back.

"Hm. Forget that. What I mean is I'll take whatever you're willing to tell. If you're not willing, I won't be paying you extra, but I won't be pressing either..." Shut up! Stop it.

Lemm takes a deep, uneasy breath and stares out of the window and makes a herculean effort to stop running his mouth.

Blustering about payment, hesitation...they can only guess if discomfort or fear fuels the latter. They do know he'll want to ask again later.

They've committed.

They're willing.

The Knight picks up the quill. Some things...can't be told through gestures and pointed stares. Not without bringing him directly to certain sources--no, not even then. The Abyss or the White Palace and its Path of Pain or the Black Egg all together wouldn't explain enough. That wouldn't explain them.

They have plenty of spare paper. Some bought from Iselda directly, some picked up from Cornifer's discarded attempts.

The Void experiments the Pale King--no. They don't want to start with him and his crimes.

They...don't know where to start.

...Perhaps that's where they should.

I've only recently discovered most of what I am, and how it is involved with this place. I do have information but don't know everything. I do not know where to start. If you have anything more specific you would like to begin with, I would appreciate that.

They slap their paw against the paper for attention and rotate it in Lemm's direction.

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