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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It is immediately reassuring that the Knight is still willing to come along. His earlier question with the vengefly thing may or may not have been probing in the opposite direction, despite what it sounded like.

Lemm walks slow, because he is in absolutely no rush to move things along. He's very quiet, and occasionally he looks like he's thinking of saying something and then changes his mind at the last second.

What eventually comes out is:

"Others like you, don't they? Not everyone. Most, though."

They're slow to respond. They consider a noncommittal gesture. They're...suspecting the layers to this. It's harder to dig at than an Arcane Egg, but they're not doing that anyway. Lemm is the one speaking.

I don't believe so. Some do like me. Some completely despise me. Most overlook me in various ways.

Edited 2022-11-24 17:45 (UTC)

"Pah! You gave me a list of names of everyone up there," he points directly to the ceiling, "and the only one you saw fit to be negative about was that Zote. That tells me they like you there well enough. Even the Stag likes you, considerate little stray that you are."

His fingers are worrying at the edge of his rolled-up map, brushing at the spare pins.

"Well I'm not considerate, and I don't stand for being overlooked - and it doesn't matter. One interaction is enough for a relic, you see, and that suits me and everyone else just fine. The problem here is I'd have to go back and look that Stag in the face and ask him for another ride. That's hard," he insists. "That's unpleasant, as you put it."

Several in Dirtmouth do hold positive thoughts toward me. They do not comprise the whole of the world. They hope this doesn't come off as too admonishing.

The Knight stares up him for a long, long moment. They still don't completely understand why it's so unpleasant, but they're not about to deny that he feels that way.

I would think throwing journals at an upset beast would be more difficult than that, and you still did so. Afterwards you didn't permanently lock it from your shop, or try to drive it off or kill it. That would have been the easier decision.
The Stag is far more benign a being. I believe you're capable of enduring that unpleasantness.
And I can distract him with my considerately stray ways if you would rather not ask.

...Shame, he thinks.

He bats up lightly at the edge of their paper with his fingers, kind of scolding. "Ah-ah. The Lord of Shades is no Beast, that title's already spoken for and I won't have you muddling the records." It's been on his mind, as much as he's tried to put it out. "But I was afraid, Knight. That's probably something we should talk about, isn't it?" He is genuinely asking. There isn't really a precedent in his life for upsetting a Shade Lord...

Anyway, he needs to explain himself or the Knight will think he's going to be like this all the time, when actually he's only going to be like this around other people.

Ugh. No. That can't be right, either, can it.

The thing about coming to know the Knight is that they also come inconveniently packaged with other relationships. If he is rude to the Stag then it reflects poorly on the Knight. And: it won't be the only person, or even the only time he can never use a service again. They are in Hallownest, which means they are both very quickly going to run out of people Lemm hasn't been rude to. He can no longer one-and-done every bug he meets.

"I'll just... ask for the Storerooms, and be quiet," he decides, wearily, against a lifetime of better judgement. "I won't humiliate myself by letting you ask for me." ...Considerate though it is. His chest feels tight.

They wiggle the paper away from his reach. He knows what they mean.

You were afraid, and that was fair. I'm frightening. You acted through that fear multiple times. Perhaps sometimes it could have gone better from both sides, but it's still ended agreeably for us the end., hasn't it?

The Knight changes their statement into a question at the last second, somewhat asking too. If he thinks they should, maybe that's correct.

Reasonable terms for the Stag. They tip their head. It's essentially what they already do, after all.

Edited 2022-11-24 20:53 (UTC)

Those more tactful than Lemm might say something like you're not frightening! but the fact is he's got the social finesse of a rock and that would also be a heinous lie.

"I thought you might crush me at one point," he agrees. At least it's clear! "But you're not wrong..."

He stops at the edge and prepares to take a hop down to the main cargo platform. The distance between them, however short-lived, would be so helpful... But, no. Lemm hangs back a moment.

"You've been very forgiving, and it has been agreeable. But you shouldn't be overlooked. Do you understand?"

And yet he keeps coming back. Or--letting them come back. That's a brave thing, is what they're trying to go for.

The Knight hangs back, trying to articulate their own thoughts. This is a new sort of difficult, suddenly.

Maybe. I don't know. I feel less overlooked than I often do. You haven't run away forever, and you wait for my words. That's significant. They're almost completely still as they offer the paper this time.

Lemm studies the writing, his expression blank as ever.

"...I see," he says. He is still staring at the paper, at the word significant in particular. His hand shifts slightly where it's resting on his bag like he's going to do something with it, then settles. Tucking away the things they leave on his counter is a different thing than taking their words right out of their grip.

"I can weather a Stag ride or two, then, if it..."

He trails off, thinks a bit longer. Then he bows his head, a little stiff, but just like the nod they exchanged in the shop.

And he stoops to put his hand on the edge and drops to the next platform. He'll be using the lift ropes to help his way down to the bottom.

The going is much slower than the Knight is used to, but Lemm's clearly done this sort of thing before. He is careful, mechanical, and makes it easy on himself. He will not be reading anything on the way down, though, which is so incredibly convenient.

...That's good, hopefully. The Stagways are the safer way. And they don't think the Stag is going to hold a grudge, truly.

They're putting together, as they bounce from platform to platform, that this might be why Lemm seems to. Others holding grudges quickly, turning into a twisting cycle of dislike. Dirtmouth has been fine to them, but--even outside of fotunately-kind people, most of Dirtmouth owes them in one way or another, and Elderbug was a miserable kind of lonely in particular. He wouldn't have been an excellent first--only--face to encounter when already being snappish.

It's been...a long time since they cared when someone anywhere from disliked to absolutely hated them for a single mistake or, often, less. They're not skilled at reading age between species, but it doesn't matter. Lemm hasn't had literal lifetimes to forge his way through it like them.

--And ages are enough that their Sibling has waited, thank you. When they make it to the bottom of the shaft, the Knight nearly trips over backwards as Greenhorn unceremoniously shoves their way into existence. Hello, hi Lemm, they have been patient and all done with that.

Lemm dangles from the last platform in the column, one hand on the metal edge, and lets himself slide down the rest of the metal rope and lets go, dropping neatly to the bottom. He ruffles his beard back into place, and turns, and there are two of them.

Ah.

It is telling that all of the shakiness, the unsettled gut churning that was happening before is immediately grabbed and stepped on.

"You," he addresses them.

Lemm leans his head slightly to look just over Greenhorn's shoulder, to the Knight. They look surprised. Lemm is not sure what to do with that. He tilts back into place and regards the shade with an even stare.

He straightens his bag and quietly rests his hand over the side to make sure the flap is in no danger of opening. There's a lumafly bulb in there.

"Shared the nickname, did you? You must have."

The Knight rubs at their eye. They could have asked.

They already did ask! Lemm said yes twice!

Greenhorn swoops between their horns and shoots off to hover in front of Lemm, looking him over again. The bag is given extra attention because he moved his hand over it, and it's different from what he usually looks like. He didn't have this before, did he...? The Knight tells them no, which is relieving they hadn't forgot.

He asked a question. They nod like the Knight does, head a little more bobbly. They like it, and they shared it because they liked it.

Lemm's nervousness outweighs his positivity for now, but this little... floating, darting, interested thing, it's - it's enough to flatten his nerves nearly dead. Never mind their strange emergence, now that the Knight is not a pool of ink in the Storerooms. (Yes, it's strange. There is little Lemm is spooked by, though. His fears are much less interesting.)

They're nodding. Clumsily. As he understands it they wanted to listen. Lemm helplessly flounders ahead, hand stiffly pressed against the flap of his bag as they look it over. Nothing interesting in there, definitely.

"Didn't think it'd stick. Means you're new, and you ask a lot of questions." He hopes very much neither Greenhorn nor the Knight takes offense at the term, but it's too late to take it back now. (And anyway, it's not wrong.) "I suppose you've some of them now, then."

Again he tilts. Gives the Knight a look.

Is this okay. They seem like they came out of nowhere. Is this still permitted. Is he encouraging something he shouldn't.

Yes, they have questions!

...

They float down a little before turning to the Knight.

Lemm will have a super interesting view of two near-motionless siblings just staring at each other for a little while.

Weren't they going to be pointing at things? But there's writing now! Alright, alright, they'll write out questions.

...They don't know what their questions should be. Help?

The Knight pulls out their paper, already mildly regretting this. I think Greenhorn should be pointing at things they want to know about. They want to know about your bag right now. I will not be writing questions they can point at to ask. That last sentence is mentally pushed against Greenhorn, as well as the next two: If there's anything you want to avoid discussing, it shouldn't be a problem. Just start talking about something else you find interesting.

Right, he was upset about the Stag sign last time. Greehorn nods hurriedly. They won't ask about the Stagways or Stag or anything, promise!

Tactfully, the Knight doesn't write that down. They're sure already knows and is grateful.

He stands there uncomfortably as the two have their private conversation. At least something passes between them. He wouldn't deign to guess.

The paper is studied. The bag is almost shifted behind him, but... there are other things than light in there.

So he nods. Lemm does want to do this, after all.

"Fine. Here, then, little shadow." He gestures vaguely to indicate a kind of loose proximity. They don't seem aware of personal space - that'll have to be the first thing. "Keep your... self to yourself, and I'll show you."

He digs around in his bag, and after a moment Lemm produces a small array of tools: a broad paintbrush, coiled measuring tape, a small hammer - this one is put back after a belated thought and replaced with the tiny magnifying lens. Lemm holds them tightly, but in a way Greenhorn - and the Knight - can see.

"Now I don't want you touching anything if I'm not watching. Rare enough to find what you need and every Relic Seeker's got a different set." And he won't be bringing out the forceps or the pliers or the knife or anything, and sorry Greenhorn the bag is staying closed. "But mostly all I keep in here are tools for the job. It's not that interesting if you're not in the business of hunting relics. S'just hard to carry everything when you're not..." a glance at the Knight, curious "...able to tuck everything away somewhere." His attention returns to Greenhorn, monitoring closely.

Greenhorn drifts back a little, for now. They're not going to stick their tendrils in it, even though it shouldn't do anything. He wouldn't keep something that makes you sick on himself. Right?

The Knight keeps their confusion about the hammer fully internal, ambling over to the side of the ledge to peer down in the meantime. Just like they thought, there's nothing dangerous directly below, only one of Cornifer's many papers still littering the area.

The little sibling examines each tool in turn, thoroughly distracted from the rest of the bag.

After considerable thought the Knight doesn't pry into, they gesture to the measuring tape and lens. (They know what a brush is already, Sheo and Nailsmith have a lot of those, but there's not any paint here.)

Lemm is still a little rattled from earlier (and from - this), so his responses are a little more tentative, and are punctuated with regular glances to the Knight to reassure himself things are going fine, actually.

But they seem to be. Slowly, Lemm's usual tone returns.

"Ah, this - "

He can't measure a Shade, no matter how still they try to stay. Too fuzzy around the edges, wouldn't serve his point. Lemm draws nearer to the Knight, holds out his hand, and unpins a finger to let the end of the tape cascade to the ground like a ribbon. He steps on the end and pulls it taut.

"Shows you how big something is." Do they know numbers? ~~It's not a high one, anyway~~ "Admittedly not something I often need, but sometimes you can tell an era or style of journaling or architecture by the size." A slight pause, and Lemm glances down at what he's measuring. He adjusts his hand slightly so that the tape's close to the tip of the Knight's horn. "Post-Scydosellan," he decides offhandedly.

The tape is wound back up, and the lens is held out between his fingers; he tilts it so that the Shade can see the glass goes all the way through, and moves the brush behind it so that the fibers are visible if they look through it. "This is for small details. The magnification's strong. Don't hurt your eyes."

They obligingly stand straight for the demonstration.

...Post-what? The Knight's unsure what that means, but Lemm moves on and Greenhorn with him before they can ask.

Greenhorn leans in, absolutely fascinated. There are some memories of Sibling looking through the Watcher's magnification thing (telescope, they're informed) but that didn't show them as much as this.

He's watching, and he said not to touch when he's not. So that means they can stick a tendril around the other side of the lens and see what it looks like.

Lemm holds it steady; their assumption is correct enough, though the lens is obviously valuable to him by how closely he's watching. That, or his focus is for some other reason.

He's used the lens a thousand times and the novelty has worn off, but suddenly it's fascinating to this sibling - it's obvious that something mundane to him is totally novel to them. He's never seen this kind of curiosity up close before.

"What you see refracts in the glass - bends, to make a bigger image," he explains, finding himself strangely patient. "I wasn't convinced it would work with Void, but it helps with an Arcane Egg if you don't mind a headache."

He'd be hard-pushed to find a new one if anything happened to it. This is probably unwise. But Lemm finds himself wanting to encourage that curiosity, and he shifts his grip until the lens lies in his palm, offered out for them to examine, or take.

They can see how the shape bends! It doesn't show more detail than any of their shadowy self, but that still engrosses them into wiggling and curling the limb a lot.

The Knight is watching near as careful as Lemm when the glass is offered. They can hold it, but not take it, they warn. They don't know if they will, but knowing their own impulses, they figure it's better to be safe.

Greenhorn neither confirms or denies having this idea. They just pick it up in two tendrils' grasp and aim it towards the first fascinating thing around them--which is, naturally, Lemm. Lemm and his funny beard.

Edited 2022-11-25 10:08 (UTC)

"Don't drop it." He manages to keep most of the edge out of his voice.

Upon finding himself scrutinised, Lemm folds his arms and tilts his head sardonically.

"I'm not much to look at, little sneak, try something else." He's not surprised. First thing he'd have done, probably, a long time ago. "Don't get so distracted you don't look where you're going, though."

Lemm tucks the other items back in his bag and, keeping half an eye on them, goes to take his own glance down over the edge. Hopefully if they keep moving the little one will find something more interesting to look at on the way than him. Like a rock for example.

Bit of an awkward way down for someone with no Mantis Claw. Lemm calmly pulls out a grappling hook, whacks it unceremoniously behind a stalagmite, and gestures for the Knight and their sibling to go on ahead.

They can keep it? For now. For now, right.

First, they examine their sibling, who is, in fact, as much a 'grubby little wanderer' as Lemm previously claimed. Lots of little speckles of dust and dirt and other things on their mask. Their wings! Their wings are even worse! When it's not all Shade-y, it's grimy and has stuff soaked into the scales they can suddenly actually see.

Wasteland stuff, the Knight informs them dryly. It's a fine color and they don't care to try fixing it. They hold out a little of it to look at closer.

Greenhorn tries to look at the grapple next, but the Knight nudges them and points down. That can be dangerous to Lemm for them to mess with.

The Knight hops down and Greenhorn drifts after them, distracted by the lift's hanging weights, and then even more quickly, Cornifer's note.

The Knight stays on the upper platform, glancing at their map and waiting for Lemm's descent. It's not the nearby western passage but a tunnel a little further down.

Lemm's descent is... slow! He really isn't the adventuring type, despite how offended he'd be if they implied it. Navigating the ruins is just a means to an end, and made much easier because he came prepared.

Sliding down a rope and occasionally abseiling a bit would be much more difficult if there were things trying to bite him while he descended. Not the case now.

When he reaches the bottom, Lemm gives a soft huff at the exertion and dusts himself down.

"I admit, I'm starting to be glad of the test run. I'm a bit rusty after so long in the shop. You, though - I can see how you filled out that map, now."

The Knight is partly distracted by their sibling bobbing around on the other side of the room, transferring the words for the Knight to translate, and then wanting to heed them. No, they already have a map of here and everywhere else. Maybe they can visit Cornifer another time for a different reason.

To Lemm, they tip their head in slight agreement, avoiding going too far to seem smug. Even if they are. Just a little. They are aware of what they're capable of, and they're not remotely expecting him to match. Even the most athletic and predatory bugs get tired before they do, a trick that's helped them more than a few times before.

Next, they gesture for him to wait a moment and dart ahead to scout. This is where the Crossroads start growing wilder, and they're proven right to do so.

They return quickly to report: Spikes ahead. Down and west to avoid the first of it. There's far more after.

Lemm is a little put out that he's being tasked with waiting, but not by much. Greenhorn is a good distraction. He'll busy himself explaining whatever they gesture to by giving a brief (for him) account of Hallownest navigation or something.

When the Knight returns, he gives a shallow nod.

"Keep your - Greenhorn close, then. I doubt I could stop them wandering." He turns to address the sibling anyway, with a stern voice normally reserved for someone he thinks might stray their hands near his collection. "Aye. You. No peering at any sharp stuff with that lens, hm?"

With that he anchors the hook and makes his careful descent.

At the bottom Lemm's attention turns briefly to the spikes, and he gives a grudging little tut. Many of the Kingdom's gates may be open and the infection gone, but there's still plenty down here to give anyone pause, and he knows it. Lemm is determined to make this trip uneventful. He will be exceedingly cautious as they proceed.

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