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
I need to rest somewhere safe if injured. It doesn't take much time. Food isn't required and I've gotten enough full sleep for a very long time.
Lemm is scrutinized.
Yourself? The Knight pointedly turns from him to eye the back room. They noticed he hadn't settled at all when they did.
no subject
He stares at the paper for a second.
"Yes. I'm a bug, I do both - oh." Ugh. Lemm snaps his fingers to draw their attention back to him, annoyed. "Stop looking over there. And don't think to go wandering back there without my permission, either. It was a one-off."
By his tone, their earlier assumption was entirely correct. Lemm is not keen on the fact that someone else has been in his bedroom, or seen the extent of his clutter for that matter.
"I'll sleep before we leave. Before I leave," he corrects, suddenly a lot flightier than he was.
no subject
I promise not to break in there. Not even in search of spare Geo or keys. A mild joke, mostly to the Knight. Those are what they'd had to hunt for most, though mask shards or soul vessel fragments higher. (Mentioning that could inspire more discussion unrelated to the 'practice run'.)
Time is difficult to judge in Hallownest. Anywhere underground, truly. Soon?
no subject
A nod. "Soon. I'll meet you at the City Storerooms..."
Um.
"...In a few hours." Nope. "Five. Five hours. Give or take." He's even worse at judging time than most. If there's any way of telling it down here Lemm is the last bug to bother. No schedule to begin with and no one to rely on it anyway. He might currently be realising this as he speaks.
no subject
They are also realizing this, pausing to stare somewhere at the middle point between Lemm's face and the paper on the counter. The frantic sloshing of thought feels audible.
I don'tThere isn'tYes. We'll figure it out. Being a little late or early shouldn't matter. They'll just...go there. Make their way quite slowly. See if they missed any journals on the way.
no subject
"Yes," he says, altogether way too quickly for it to be casual. "Exactly. Doesn't matter either way. We'll see each other when we see each other." It's not just him - thank goodness. There are other places out there with better timekeeping than a dead kingdom, doubtless - but Lemm has always had this problem. He will make his best estimate and hopefully that will be fine.
"Now shoo. I've got packing to do. Scurry off and see to your own business or something."
no subject
...And keep standing.
The Knight picks at the edges of the cloak and holds it up around them. Does he want this back, or.
no subject
He has no need for it. There's no biting wind down here, just the shift of stale air around the caverns. It was an impulsive acquisition to begin with.
"Don't trip," he says simply. It is quite a bit oversized for someone so small.
Lemm pretends to be distracted by reading a journal.
no subject
...Perhaps they will get someone from Deepnest to alter it. Or they can make an attempt with tools that should be there.
For now, they take it off and fold, fold, fold the cloak until it's small enough to pack under their wings, where it disappears. They'll wear it later, in the colder places. (As if they feel cold the cloak would be able to protect them from.)
The Knight hops down and nods once more.