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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"If we do, it'll add a strange flair to any meeting we have with them." Lemm is a bit more amused by that than he has a right to be. He pulls the door closed behind them, though he's not sure whose dignity he's pretending to protect here. "Maybe you've heard this one: if you find someone intimidating, picture them in a compromising situation."

He pushes open another door. This room is in total darkness, and the dust is swept up a little with the opening of the door, but he reaches for his lamp and crosses to the window to pull open another set of curtains. Even a little ambience from outside is enough to tell them what they're looking at.

"Aye, she was a lucky bug," he sighs.

It's a wet room, with a large built-in step-down basin in the middle surrounded by burnt-out candles. The water damage has not been kind to anything in this room and most everything is streaked with black mould, but once it would have been considered a pretty extravagant display of wealth. There's mosaic in here. And to have it upstairs? Unthinkable.

Advice for Lemm, perhaps. Herrah and Monomon don't intimidate them much, only frustrate and confuse them at worst. Or not, as he might get too flustered to have a proper discussion.

They hold up their own lumafly lamp, somewhat impressed. They don't know all the ins and outs of the implications, but that this is a room and not a direct hot spring obviously speaks of significant wealth.

The mold is observed. The mural is also observed, as little of it as is possible.

Hmm.

I could strike some of this with a spell. Maybe I can clear it off a little. They'd thought about not risking it, but they do think they have enough control to keep it to the mess and not punch through a wall in damage. It should be fine as long as Lemm keeps well back.

Lemm stoops and squeaks a thumb over the edge of the tub, rubbing off the residual stuff between finger and thumb. Regretfully he stands and observes their writing.

Wait, but didn't they say not in enclosed spaces.

"...Are you sure?"

He is already backtracking to the doorway, just in case they're more enthusiastic than predicted.

They shrug, but wave him to go further. The damage is often relegated what they directly hit and a little past, with living things taking the worst of it. Mold is technically a living thing.

They turn away from the mural to a random corner with significantly less detail and blast a Shade Soul in its direction.

It was intended to be a Shade Soul, at least. The actual spell bursts with far wider range than prior, quadruple narrow eyes on the front, throwing out wild tendrils to catch and drag in every direction as the Knight jolts back in surprise.

A path is torn through the mess. Motes of mold drift through the air. Some of the loosest tile beneath's cracked off. Still less damage than it looks like it should have done.

He takes their cautionary gesture seriously and backs all the way out into the hall behind them. He hasn't survived this long just to become collateral damage to carelessness.

Good thing too, it seems - he feels it in the floor, flinching back and instinctively throwing arms up in front of his face just in case as the view into the room explodes into black for a moment. He swears he saw thrashing limbs for a moment...

Lemm warily creeps close enough behind them to peer over their horns at the result, his hands settling on their shoulders as if to steady them or reassure them he's still intact. Or maybe just because - wow?

"You're never doing that in my shop." This hardly means a thing - he sounds impressed.

Nod, nod. The whole effect hasn't changed too severely, growing in range more than anything, but those extra tendrils might knock or snag quite a few loose relics.

They lightly shrug a little, only to nudge their tiny shoulders into his hands more comfortably as they write. Is it reasonable for clearing the mural?

"...That depends. I wouldn't want to be caught on the other end of that."

He isn't thinking much about what he's doing, which is probably why his hands stay where they are - Lemm just kind of takes the Knight with him when he steps forward, steering them in front of him as he draws closer to the mosaic.

One hand does leave contact briefly as he runs a hand over the mural, picking at the edges of bits of mosaic just to see if anything is likely to chip off. The mural is water-themed, that much is obvious - but the details are lost under a layer of muck where condensation has given way to streaks of black stuff and then dried. Still, it's sturdy enough. Lemm glances over to the area of the room that the Knight has already blasted. It's... cleaner, definitely...

He eyes the cracked tiling. Calculated risk time.

"Can you do it smaller, d'you think?"

As they step forward with Lemm, this is given serious consideration.

Spellwork is Soul that they've changed into Void, as far as they can tell. They now have much control over Void as a whole.

...However, it's fast. Not as fast as a Nail-lash when they're particularly aggrieved, and they've plenty of control over that, but they've been using their blade for lifetimes longer. Simply downsizing such a speedy spell they're also accustomed to simply allowing it to stretch as it will might not be as easy as that, or as packing their self into their shell.

I'm not sure. I can practice over the rest of the room first? or^/and I could try to scrape it away. Though that would take rather longer.

"Anyone could try to scrape it away," he points out. "I'm not afraid of us getting our claws dirty, Knight, but it'd take far more of our time to do it the simple way."

He peers up at the mosaic and considers how much he'd mind if it broke. It's not like he'd be able to take this back to the shop, so its value to him as a reference or as a show piece is moot. And the Mansion is so out of the way - and it's going to ruin without someone living in it, anyway... Does it matter so much if it breaks now, or rots off the wall later?

He hums faintly. In truth he'd already decided, but he's more sure than he was.

"I'm not pushing you, Knight - I just want to see what you can do, if I'm honest with you." He pats their shoulders with finality. "S'not so odd to find spellwork a bit of a novelty, is it? I'm sure you're capable."

They reach up to tap the hilt of their Nail, unable to take it out without potentially nicking Lemm. See, they've got more than only their claws.

The rest of it, though, gets an upswell of pride, alongside an uncharacteristic thrill of bashfulness they immediately try shaking off like an obnoxious cobweb. Lemm just wants to see them try, more than wanting to guarantee a thing like this last a little longer. The Knight cares less about it than that.

It seems mold is one of the only foes I'll have the chance to show it against now.
So long as you stand somewhere behind me, you should be fine.

Yes, he's already behind them.

...Oh. Lemm registers suddenly that he's laid hands on them and lifts them away, folding his arms instead and stepping back to give them space. He doesn't remember doing that. No one told him off.

"I'll be safe enough back here, won't I? Let's see you have at it."

He wishes he had some advice, but Lemm has never really asked too many questions about spells. What he has clarified is that the Knight has trouble with keeping a clear head. So:

"You'll be fine," he offers, casual as anything.

...Lemm's not infallible even in knowledge he's an expert in, and this isn't that. But they've frightened him with similar abilities more than a single time, and they've protected him with them as well.

They'll be fine. They'll make sure of it.

Stepping back for better aim, the Knight--no, that's Focus, attempting to pull too much in. They spend a short time outwardly doing nothing, internally doing the equivalent of staring at their Soul. They'd never considered the actual conversion aspect. They had spells, and then their spells were stronger. Unless Ze'mer has a Shaman hidden in her basement--

--well, she does. In the tunnels beneath. They've already found a Charm by that one.

They'll be fine, they remind themselves.

The stronger Shade Soul bursts forth and--stutters in front of them as they try to pull it back into a weaker state. It moves through the air at a fair slower clip than usual, the new tendrils it has streaking behind itself similar to the previous version rather than reaching out.

It tears a significant streak through the mess even so.

A handful of tiles crack and scatter to the floor.

Lemm braces himself just in case. He really doesn't know what will happen here, and doesn't know if he should expect platitudes to have an effect one way or the other.

What happens is damage, and he can't say he's that surprised. In the aftermath there is a swathe of clean tile (flowers, sitting on a lake of some kind?) with a little crack of missing pieces down the middle, and Lemm finds himself instantly spurred to do damage control.

Not on the mosaic, though. He will attend to that in a moment.

"That looked more orderly than the last one, eh?"

They answer with a nod. Technically true, not a terrible first attempt at altering spellwork directly.

A tendril from wing sneaks out to pick up a few tiny tiles for their examination. Some are remarkably whole. Several...are not.

Still a spell more for combat than cleaning, I'm afraid.

He really wasn't exaggerating - it had been kind of a rush to watch them cast, regardless of the outcome.

"Pah! For now. You've only to practice and I'll have you doing all my work for me." A joke. He likes the work of cleaning up relics. Still though.

Satisfied that they're not expecting him to be upset with their result, Lemm gives himself a full view of the mosaic from where he is and then joins them closer to it again. He takes one of the tiles from their tendril to save having to bend down and peers at it.

The image as a whole seems to be of a particularly serene pond or lake, blooms similar to Delicate Flowers floating on its surface. It's mostly in shades of grey like the rest of the mansion, but in places there are subtle hints of pale blue where the water reflects, and soft green around its edges.

It is a shame about the broken bits, but... not enough to bring up.

"I wonder if this was somewhere she knew well? It's certainly no Blue Lake."

Edited 2022-12-17 10:12 (UTC)

They flick the paper at him in mock offense.

Truthfully, they wouldn't care terribly much if Lemm requested that. Acts some might find insulting or degrading are just another action they can choose for politeness' or their own entertainment's sake. For a while, at least.

They still don't plan trying this particular method much further.

I can't decide if amount of Delicate Flowers might be genuine, or from Ze'mer's taste to put them in places she finds particularly pleasing.

After a moment of reflection, the Knight sets the tiles down in a careful pile by one of the burnt-out candles. An offer of some respect to none after the damage caused.

"Maybe so, but I wouldn't have a clue. Hardly within my purview to go guessing what plants belong where - all I know's they don't belong here." He finishes examining (or rather admiring) the cleaned part of the image and steps back. "Beautiful work, though!"

Ah, Hallownest. It's not often a place has the resources to let its inhabitants lounge about making art all day. Survival took a back seat for a while - at least for its citizens, even if things were going terribly wrong behind the scenes. He's really quite the lucky Relic Seeker to witness the artistic results. ~~Smut galleries notwithstanding.~~

He is wrapped up in that thought when he glances over at the Knight, and it takes him a moment to register what they're actually doing. 'Considerate little stray' indeed. Maybe the accidental damage bothers them more than he thought.

"It might be fixable with some mortar, I imagine," he muses. "Not that I have any, nor the intent to come back any time soon." Not the point! The point is it's fixable. That's all.

They dip their head. Fixable, possibly. If they'd remember to try is another story. And even more, if it's worth it. Lemm seems only partly interested.

If only I could carry it back to your sh-- pause, midsentence, as they realize they potentially do as they're thinking. The Lord of Shades could probably rip through the Mansion enough to take part of a wall. --your shop without destroying all the rest.

Lemm is amused by the thought. Yes, if only life were as simple as brute forcing everything.

"Ah, no - we won't be punching any holes in the wall of a Great Knight's abode today!" A light laugh, and he waves the thought off. "Besides that, it sets a precedent that I might be able to get this kind of thing home. I've got to draw the line somewhere, or I'll end up with all of Hallownest in my shop."

Lemm considers the other possibility, one that's been on his mind for a little while.

"D'you think that mystery fixer takes maintenance requests?"

No, there's not enough space. You need to move into a bigger one. Make the entire square your shop. The fountain would work as a counter, everything else already wet enough.

Oh, but that brings the Knight up short.

I have no idea. Nothing can stop a try. Though I don't believe they'd want to come here at a left note or somesuch. Not unless they're obsessed or and foolish. It would shriek 'trap'.

"Ha! Very funny - but you may have the right idea. If I laid claim to the entire city maybe I'd get to set a few rules." He sighs in exaggerated mock wistfulness. "Those two are evicted, for a start. And I'll have a rule about trotting around damp in private property, and even your Brand won't have a leg to stand on." Not how it works, he's certain, but he'll overlook that for this.

"...No, you're probably right about that. Then again, who goes around fixing things in a kingdom-wide plague?" A shrug. "They used to have noticeboards for these things. You could always start small, and ask for something closer to home."

From Relic Seeker to Mayor Lemm, I see.

They nod decisively, though they haven't any idea what to choose yet. The things destroyed are usually what they themselves have done, and are already repaired quickly...

Anything else in need of fixing specifically are objects they're blind to after seeing so much ruined. Perhaps they can simply request to meet them first.

"There's a niche for me, indeed!" he scoffs. What an absolutely laughable idea. Thank goodness they're both joking. "No, I'm quite happy with my shop, thank you. I'd never survive all the politicking, and neither would anyone else."

That does remind him, though...

"How's that been going for you? Last I heard you hated it, but I can't imagine what it entails in a place like this."

Mosaic immediately forgotten, they take a few irritated steps back into the doorway.

Queen Herrah needed the King of Hallownest to assist in altering old treaties with the Mantises the last time. I was glad to make things a little more tolerable. It was nonetheless incredibly dull and frustrating. I was more or less a prop.

I'm working to avoid more of that.

Lemm gives the room a final sweep. There's nothing here to interest him but the decor, though, and he really can't take it with him. He follows them to the door with one last appreciative look at the damaged mosaic.

The political intrigue... Suffice it to say Lemm is not a fan.

"Grave stuff! Maybe it shouldn't come as a surprise to me that any old treaties still hold at all..." It does, though. It's been a long time! The Mantis Tribe must be stalwart indeed. "I certainly don't envy you. Surely you can just tell them to sort it out?"

Diplomacy: not his strong suit. Do not make this bug mayor of anything.

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wow i didn't get ANY alert for this one cool cool cool

'_' alert email lost in the space time continuum

e~e not even just email, here too. guess dw got clogged up for a bit :I<

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