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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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.

It's hard to stay still when they're annoyed. They pace the wrong way for a few steps before they return to Lemm's side, continuing.

The Tribe made a deal with the ~~Pal~~ old King to defend against Deepnest's encroachment, which is unnecessary for the survivors with mind left. Leaving them to it would have meant further pointless death.

The Knight isn't eager to carry the more obnoxious or needless responsibilities of King, but they can't deny a private thrill at calling the Pale King the old King.

I don't believe there are others to worry about. but perhaps the Hive, which may have collapsed with their Queen long dead. Their relations with Deepnest seemed fair. That shouldn't require my interference in any case.

He can see they're agitated. Lemm keeps a closer watch on his words just to be safe. They said they hated this stuff, but it's different seeing the evidence of just how much.

Likely there's more about the workings of the City's relations with others in the Watcher's Spire, if anywhere - but he could never get in. Maybe now that it isn't crawling with infected bugs...? Lemm strokes at his beard thoughtfully.

"If you happen to need any records checking... Bah, I can't promise anything and you don't need me getting involved. But don't be shy of delegating." A huff. "I don't have the head for that kind of thing either, but if I can support you at all - ah, this isn't because you're King of anything, by the way. I already believe you a much better fit than the last one, but that has nothing to do with me."

That final clarification was wise, with how much bitterness they hold about the position.

It's just a favor being offered. A favor from a friend, even as he's cautious against too much involvement. Kind of him despite their not wanting to risk it. Politics are difficult, and hold danger less obvious than crumbling ruins or a possessed population.

Thank you.

Unsure what more to add--there's much they could, and most but some pleasure at better fit than the last would only further sour the mood--they simply offer that with a deep bow.

Edited 2022-12-20 04:18 (UTC)

"No need for that..."

Lemm awkwardly tries to take some of the ceremony out of it by gingerly pushing their paper away. He's glad they took him seriously, but it doesn't mean he's used to the acknowledgement.

"If all else fails you can tell everyone you're retiring." A scoff. "Just make sure you declare it." Do not vanish without a trace like some people he could mention.

It shouldn't get that far. They wouldn't allow it. Being a Lord of Shades should supersede the title of King, even if Knight can't. Gods are more difficult to boss about than even royalty. The Void is even more.

They glance at their paw. In the relative light of the hallway, the Brand is still near-impossible to make out. I don't know what might happen to this if I did. Soul spell nonsense.

"The Soul Sanctum might have something on spell branding, even I'd think the... old King's a bit outside of their scope. No harm in looking."

Soul spell nonsense as they put it has always been a bit... dense. Never seemed to make much sense or come together into something he fully understood. He'd try anyway.

"Would you miss it?"

A sensible suggestion.

Their paw flexes.

They don't care for it, still. They've gained enough from the Sanctum already, practical in harvesting the Soul drained from the bugs stolen from their lives. They don't need anything more from that place.

...They don't want to need anything more from that place. If it becomes a problem, then the Knight can swallow their pride.

No. It's a tool as a key is, and one I believe it's done most of what's necessary. I only have concern over where it might go, and who would recognize it. Most don't, but some have. Emilitia noticed a difference.

I don't know if it would go, to Hornet, to my sibling, even to Emilitia or another Hallownest citizen, or back to the Wyrm's collapsed corpse. I wouldn't care if I dropped it, and isn't too terrible to hold now. I've overcome worse complications.

Edited 2022-12-20 10:26 (UTC)

By the way they've phrased it - drop, hold, complications - they don't want it at all. He has suspected as much for a while.

Now is probably not the time to address that, if he wants to keep things light. But he can probably offer something nonetheless. A little light sarcasm to smooth things back out, first.

"Oh, well, if Emilitia noticed it! Yes, give it to her, and let's see what wins out: her ego, or her Pale King favouritism. If we're terribly lucky she'll just sit there praising herself for all time." You know, so... more of the same. (He has met her once. And once was enough.)

He's not saying a lot here, but it serves as good enough noise distraction that he's brave enough to reach out and gently pat their branded paw - a bit like one might encourage a friend to lower their Nail. They don't have to worry about this for now. Sorry he brought it up.

"No, it's safest with you, I suppose."

That's a horrible, amusing idea. Praise herself, and then likely get herself skewered by Hornet or Herrah should they ever meet, and then where would things be? (Probably not significantly worse.)

They curl their paw to catch his fingers for a moment. The Brand is a slightly more solid scar against their softer shell.

He stills. It's not a flinch, nothing so dramatic this time, it's just...

Maybe it will always take him a little by surprise. Despite this he doesn't deliberate much over taking their paw properly and giving it a reciprocal little squeeze. His thumb smooths lightly over the Brand, acknowledging it without any fanfare about what it is, and then he lets go.

They have some nerve, turning Relic Seeker Lemm soft like this.

"You really don't mind all that, do you?"

The King's Brand? They're not certain if that's what he means, or the holding of hands, and they're...wary of asking elaboration, if it could be the second. They're fond of being able to, and there's some dread that giving more attention could ruin it.

The King's Brand they're handling despite frustration. The hand-holding, minding comes nowhere near the truth.

In either case, answering through a dip of the head is honesty enough.

"...Good. Well, nor do I." Lemm gives a quiet half-laugh (nervous, but cheerful), fidgets with his bag, and does not elaborate. If his awkwardness doesn't clue them in to what he was really asking, they'll have to settle for it. A nod is good enough for him regardless.

He feels it's a companionable quiet as they work their way through the rest of the Grey Mansion, although Lemm occasionally pipes up with some remembered detail about Hallownest culture or an extrapolation of how Ze'mer might have spent her time. There are signs here and there that her earlier life was not spent in quite the same solitude as after her mantis lover was gone - sitting areas for more than just one, decoration that must have been gifted, more paintings of the Knights and the wider court.

Whether it's just for historical interest or not is not quite clear, but Lemm seems keen that her life be remembered.

So nerves are shared, if not for precisely the same reason. Lemm's the one who brought it up, after all. Or, for this, he's simply braver than they.

Whatever the reason, they follow him closely, occasionally reaching to tap the edge of his shell and gesture to things they believe might lead to interesting results, or related to the other Great Knights.

At one point they wander through a kitchen and find a pair of treats--a bluggsac (somewhat less orange now) with a rancid egg beneath the open sink, and a jar of genuine honey candy, helpfully labelled as such in oversized text. They offer Lemm the latter.

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