voicetest the voiceless

[focusedvoid]

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.

Comments

[capitalcurator]

As soon as they're gone Lemm halts his map work and tidies up their notes. Well, after some leafing through and lingering over certain parts of their account - the darker parts need reviewing, and he's starting to resent the idea of going back over them while the Knight is in the room.

He lingers over the conversational parts too, though this he catches himself at and quickly shakes his head, taps the pages into a neat pile and sets everything to one side.

The map comes together slowly, but it's not particularly difficult to make the copy he wants. Mostly it's just something to do with his hands. This suits Lemm just fine. He is discovering that he has a lot to think about.

The Abyss, for example. After he runs his pen down the long, vertical lines of the pit, he double-checks the scale against the Knight's copy. And then he slides his ruler up, and measures the Watcher's Spire. It's taller, but not by much. He rises from his seat.

With a long, calculating look out of the window with the Knight's map in his hands and the ruler held to the page, Lemm makes a vitally important estimation.

...His work continues.

[focusedvoid]

Lemm will be a while, they suspect. Or maybe they just don't want to push their company again so soon. He's quick with a quill.

In any case. The Knight stays in the water for long enough to realize their Soul reserves are now unsettlingly gigantic. Considering everything else, it's not an intense shock. Still. They eventually head over to the bench to rest--then, back down to Marissa.

She's far more of a surprise. Most spirits they've encountered tend to forget most events around them, being only lingering memory and dream. Marissa seems more aware of their presence now, and muses over enough detail to nearly recall the Infection that drew her crowds away.

She shies from it before she can and goes so far as to change her song, to an equally beautiful, yet stronger, hymn.

The Knight listens. Of course they listen.

And now, all their Siblings can as well.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm writes fewer labels and draws fewer pictures. Some things aren't relevant to him; others he can't make out and doesn't see fit to bother including. Some places he's already been, though most of his sightseeing took place from behind cover as he waited for the locals to wander out of his way.

He ends up with more than a couple of smudges (it's haste, his fault for not finding the Fungal Wastes particularly riveting). But time flies when you're thinking about a project, and it isn't long before Lemm checks for empty space and finds none remaining.

The Knight has apparently been everywhere in Hallownest, and it isn't a jump to realise this likely happened at the height of the Infection. He's not envious of the effort that must have taken.

The map complete, Lemm sets it on a shelf to finish drying, arranges notes and relics around his desk, and makes additions to the timeline. Then he sets down a fresh, blank stack of paper and begins to write. There is no shorthand, though there's lots of crossings-out and arrows and edits.

It is the verbose, clinical, and terribly over-explained first draft of a historic record with the assumption the reader may know absolutely nothing to begin with. It starts with a lengthy introduction to Hallownest as it stands, and then meanders backwards and forwards. It's going to be long.

...Despite his emotional involvement in the retelling, it has been a lengthy amount of time since Lemm actually took a break from all this. He gets about eight pages in before he starts yawning.

[focusedvoid]

Marissa switches songs twice. The one she finishes on before returning to the norm is, they're informed, from the same opera.

Fascination and disquiet trail the Knight when they take their leave. They'll need to visit the Resting Grounds to see if the effect is widespread. (The spirit of Poggy Thorax is an unfortunate victim of their Dream Nail, swung with haste.)

They wander back to Lemm's shop, nearly passing it in a haze after their odd rest. Requiring their map is what stops them before they can.

[capitalcurator]

RELIC SEEKER LEMM HAS DIED Just kidding, he's passed out over his work with his face buried in his arms, snoring softly. His quill is still in his hand.

The counter is piled with information at least. The Knight's notes have been un-tidied and spread out haphazardly between and under and on top of other papers filled with his ongoing record; some of the more relevant parts have been copied out as direct quotes. Some is kept from slipping off the counter by relics like the Arcane Egg doubling as paperweights. A small pile slid onto the floor sometime after Lemm fell asleep.

Looks like a particularly literate bomb went off in here. The Knight's map is back in its case and leaning beside the desk.

[focusedvoid]

...It appears they weren't the only one to get some rest. Fortunately, their hearing is keen enough they heard the snoring before seeing his slumped-over form.

The Knight politely chooses to pick up the fallen papers, putting them in a pile on top of the till. They won't wake him. Bugs need more sleep than Vessels, and they can't recall ever seeing him do anything near it even with Hallownest shifting from its stasis.

They gather their map and slip away.

They'll be back before long.