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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Knight stops writing to stare directly into Lemm's face.

Both of them are obviously questioning the wisdom of those words. They'll refrain from implying it further, then, not least because Greenhorn might genuinely expect free access.

I'll try not to. I don't know if I would've thought of that. True enough. Could you elaborate more on what happened?

They rock back again, tipping further this time. Their shared grip keeps them from dropping all the way into lying down.

Lord of Shades presence might help? Physical distance may have done something.
I'll be visiting Seer to see if she knows anything after this.

He waits to give the first thing some thought, even as he reads the latter and nods.

The self-imposed limits he's put on regarding where he might go and who he might talk to have held him back from meeting her yet - almost as much as his disdain for new faces. "I still don't have a grasp on what you told me, but if anything's... floating about in your dreams after the Lord of Shades... happened," he is struggling with these concepts also, but never mind, moving on "then yes, I guess that's exactly where I'd start. Might want to work up to it a bit," he adds, with a meaningful look.

Nothing else he can offer there. Ugh, his collection for a problem he can actually work on! Well, the first question will do for now. Lemm takes a breath and does his best to recount.

"I walked with the Hollow Knight from the Royal Quarter to my shop, and we passed the Memorial on the way. And they just..." He flickers his free hand in the air vaguely. "Started scrambling away from it on their knees. Did all this staring, all fidgety and strange. Looked like -"

Well, they didn't look like them, quite so much, but it had clicked into the same place as seeing the Knight upset. A different flavour of upset, maybe. Neither of which Lemm has a taste for.

He stalls.

"Looked bad," he finishes, simply. "You want the rest?"

Give it practice? That or be tactful. They somewhat doubt that's his meaning--although they're reminded they have to expect her guests. Their discomfort isn't enough to entertain leaving Myla trapped, but they know they're going to be dealing with...oddness.

Not for the first time in Hallownest, the Knight wishes they could sigh. It seems to give some relief. (For Iselda in particular.)

Back to their sibling. They listen raptly, fixing details carefully into their mind. It's rough to imagine--it must have been worse to experience firsthand.

I They hesitate. If you think it could be useful. One incident isn't enough to properly predict others, but it's better than nothing at all.

"More or less." Sorry, his own tact is still lacking. He can't really elaborate enough to say don't frighten yourself worse with it to say exactly what he means, and partly he doesn't dare assume they'd take that well to begin with. "Go slow, at least."

Hopefully that will do. Lemm shrugs loosely, and gives their hand a faint squeeze to give them some signal he's about to let go. They had almost been using him as an anchor a moment ago; wouldn't do to let them topple backwards. Not during a serious conversation like this, anyway.

"Don't know if it would or wouldn't. All this is beyond me. But you should know the details before they earn the label of 'things I've kept to myself'." He looks mildly uncomfortable. "I'll be brief. They went all rigid when I raised my voice, same sort of thing I suspect. And they clashed with Hornet," he finally tells them, and folds his hands together to stop himself fidgeting. A little of the guilty admission tone creeps back in: "She'd have clashed with me otherwise."

'Clashed with.' She would have skewered him. Lemm decisively leaves this out.

It's fair enough advice. Slightly rankling, but the intention and truth behind it is enough to keep annoyance from showing. This is a...delicate situation. Carefulness is paramount.

They let him pull back. Unconsciously, they wrap slightly further around the cushion.

Raised voice could be anything. The Radiance had loud thoughts with the Dream Nail, when they managed to use it. They'd put their bet on that.

The Knight bristles, head snapping up. Why?What happened? Again, they survey Lemm for possible injury, even though there wasn't any when they checked before.

Lemm has his own thoughts on why they'd reacted, though perhaps neither of them have come to conclusions that are mutually exclusive. It's just that despite him saying so, because it's the easiest way to get the sense across... he hadn't gotten all that much louder.

Lemm, in turn, bristles. He sits up straighter.

"Nothing! I didn't do anything." Not completely true. The guilt worming its way back through him says so, anyway. "I suspect she wasn't pleased to see the Hollow Knight with - in my shop, that's as far as I can figure it. They agreed to come out of the rain. I didn't do anything," he repeats, less insistent and more... mildly pleading.

They immediately try to relax. It wasn't about him, it was about her, and what she did, and--what happened?

But he doesn't know. Lemm wouldn't hide if he'd provoked Hornet somehow.

That their sibling had gotten in-between, that's--that's the big mystery. The Knight doesn't know why they'd fight her in Lemm's stead, or defense, or what. I's upsetting and alarming. And not his fault.

~~She didn't~~ and you were unhurt? They were unhurt?

He seems to relax a bit when there's no sign of a pushback. Logically he knows, he knows; the Knight was not accusing him. Despite this he couldn't help rising to his own inexplicable sense of wrongdoing. Some things are engrained.

Lemm gives a plain nod. "All three unharmed," he responds, just to be factual. "Though I can't say I liked seeing the Hollow Knight rush about like that, after... what you told me of them. I'm guessing Hornet would have someone check them over, after."

He tilts his head, still troubled.

"I had no warning, and not a clue how to conduct myself. If we happen to meet again I'd be inclined to be better equipped." Hint, hint. "Though I won't expect Hornet to change her mind, after the impression I gave."

Lemm is not a trained warrior, and their sibling has had enough of injury. Hornet, they hold less concern about. She was a bigger threat in this situation, and she'd survive a knock or two.

After they think this, they suspect they should feel guilt. Perhaps they'll be guilty about the lack of that guilt later.

I apologize, they write to Lemm, still. You wouldn't hide if it were your fault. You already told me you didn't know what happened. I am worried and unsure how to respond to it.

The Knight isn't used to worrying about anyone, much less several at once. Not when it involves the closest friend they've had in--a long, long time. Certainly not when the siblings they only fairly recently learned they have are acting unpredictably.

I'll ask both of them about it all. Very soon. I would prefer to be equipped too.

Relic Seeker Lemm is not used to worrying either, and is almost as out of his depth regarding how to navigate this situation. Not quite, maybe, but still far less than most. But: he is getting a damn sight better at realising when he's being unreasonable.

The finger-drumming on the counter starts up again for a short stint, and then stops again just as quickly when he comes to some private conclusion. Lemm shakes his head.

"No," he sighs. "No apology necessary, Knight, I'm still tripping over myself it seems." The show of trust, however, is appreciated.

Which brings him to this.

"Tell me whatever you find out. I've a feeling I should take an interest."

This, too, isn't quite right. Rather it isn't specific enough. Lemm stares down at the counter for a bit, suddenly intent.

"They're your family, do you see? I ought to pay attention to them as well, at least from a distance. For the..." His gaze flicks sidelong to the stack of notes. "...Life you're building." That he is part of. That he would preferably not make a mess of on their behalf.

"The more information a scholar has the better they can do with it."

Their head twists abruptly towards the papers, and irrational displeasure makes itself known behind their mask.

But no, this was the point, this was important. Having their siblings' stories documented in all its ugly truths. It's simply that the ugly truth is still ongoing. Keeping their sibling--the Hollow Knight, title fitting in this case alone--from being known will do everything they've done and suffered through disservice.

It's only worry getting in the way. Truly in the way. They need to know their tallest sibling better on their own.

And Lemm deserves that to know, if they're going to be wandering Hallownest more. If the...life they're building continues to include him.

The Knight nods quietly, rose-gold quill held in motionless claws.

They are... quiet, in the way he has come to think of that term when around a Vessel.

Perhaps he has miscommunicated.

Or they have changed their mind, and. (This thought is cut off too late, and a deep-cutting unpleasantness twists through his chest. Lemm resists the urge to return his hand to it.)

No. They nod, then. They were just thinking, their mind wanders, he reminds himself of this resolutely. If he doesn't have faith in their answers, past and present, he might as well give up now and throw all his hard work into the Waterways.

But that hesitancy... It's going to sit ill with him for a while if he doesn't clarify.

"...You've no obligation, of course. It was just a request. I'm not very good at making it sound like one, but that's all it was."

Their head dips more firmly this time.

~~I want~~ ~~It isn't~~

They scratch the words out in frustration and run the soft end of the quill over I am worried and unsure how to respond to it again. A few bristles catch and leave tiny lines of inky smears running across the thicker glyphs.

I will. I want to. when I think about it. When I don't my emotions trend toward defensive.
~~They~~ We
I believe we should stop discussing this for now.

Edited 2023-02-15 09:46 (UTC)

That works.

Lemm can relate, anyway, and when they finish writing he holds up a hand in understanding, or at least in agreement that they should stop.

"Ah - no, I meant that plainly. I won't hang on your word."

Their hesitation hadn't bothered him because he wanted an answer - though he did, too. It bothered him because he could tell they felt pressured. Lemm is trying to disengage. Clumsily.

"How..." He pauses, unsure, and scratches at his face sheepishly. "How d'you fare with tea? Occurred to me lately it's still a hot cup, whether it gets drunk or not."

...Hos...pitality?

The subject change is taken gratefully.

And with an air of obvious bafflement, the way they eye him.

I can't drink it normally. I can take the liquid in, but I can't taste it. They pat the cushion covering the general area of where a bug would have a stomach. Which is the point of tea? Or so they thought. Lemm seems to be implicitly offering it.

...They have told him they don't eat before now, haven't they?

Edited 2023-02-15 16:07 (UTC)

Lemm sits back and folds his arms, haughty.

"The point of tea's whatever you get out of it," he declares, as if this is something everyone agrees on, which... seems debatable. "Didn't say you had to drink it. It's taste or it's smell or it's having warm hands. Or it's the making of it," he adds as an afterthought, then dismisses this with a hand-flick. "Never mind. If you don't see the point I'll not offer again, I'm still working out what kind of host I am."

He might be backpedalling a bit. The trouble is he never knows what to offer, but every social convention seems to suggest that he should.

"Not very good at small talk," he declares, after a moment. "But I've made no progress to report in my work, so here we are, with me trying to find accommodations to make and coming up short. If you'd like to go back to pretending you don't talk that'd do me some favours in the social department - I'm much better at calling you names and waffling on about relics." All of this is said with a surprising lack of awkwardness, and maybe a small measure of humour. It's just the facts, and Lemm doesn't mind being straightforward.

Hmm.

I can make some with or for you, if you like. I don't need any, but I've been told I'm not unskilled as a cook. I don't think it was for politeness' sake.

The Knight knows the making food and such can hold meaning, but they don't often receive that...hospitality. Definitely not after their odd consumption habits are known.

The Knight decides to go with that and, rather than write, drums the cushion with both paws. They're not using it as intended, but it's still a hostly accommodation, isn't it?

That's not what he meant.

That is his knee-jerk reaction, but despite himself his head turns just a notch in the direction of the back room. The notion of making tea, of the going through the motions of it, with the Knight, just for the sake of it... He can picture it for some reason. Except in his mind's eye there is far less mess, and he knows it.

A pause while Lemm eyes the cushion. He'd almost commented that they'd found some use of that, but it seemed ill-advised to point out they seemed to have settled on hugging the thing. Apparently they aren't fussy that he'd notice.

"It's too cluttered back there," he decides eventually. "We'd lose you in the mess. I could..." Tidy? Lemm shakes his head and gives up with a sigh. "Nowhere to put anything. Wasn't a terrible idea though." What happened to plain old not wanting them in his space?

Wait. He's missed a trick, there.

"You cook?"

They shrug. They hardly care, but neither will they push. It's his home, and if he says there isn't enough room, the Knight'll believe it.

I'm capable. It's been a long while since the last time, but I can be trusted not to poison unintentionally.

They pause.

Usually. I'm not that familiar with the area, and don't know if Hallownest's meat and plant are toxic from Infection.
I could probably figure out tea you already have supply of.

More things to learn about the Knight. Lemm leans back in as he reads, a lot less aloof than he was before.

"I've no doubts you'd be sharp enough to learn, that's not what I meant. But if you don't eat it strikes me as odd you'd..."

Ah.

"For other bugs," he concludes with only a marginal amount of figuring out. He dips his head in acknowledgement. "Not the type myself. Also happens I can't vouch for my own ability that way, but I don't burn the kitchen down at any rate." Lemm tries to think of the last time he bothered using the stove for its main purpose and draws a private blank. Hm.

"Can't say I've felt affected by eating anything, but my options have been limited. Wouldn't like to guess for the carnivores either." He tilts his head thoughtfully. "I'd trust something you made, I think. Intentional poison notwithstanding." The way they phrased it tickled him.

A nod. The times they had to travel with others were spent learning many odd tasks. There's also something to be said about starting a meal before anyone else normally would to hurry things along.

Thank you. The Knight ducks their head a little. They know where their skills lie in Nail-wielding and the like; that he'd believe their word on something they can't experience is...another starling bit of trust.

Although I don't expect I'll be doing much any time soon. Writing this, they're already making a list in the back of their mind of plants they might consider reasonable. Most of Greenpath is out, with how rooted they are in acid, and how carnivorous some of that is--oh, but they could go ask Sheo and the Nailsmith, they'd doubtless have a solid idea of their surroundings.

Lemm nods. "It's ingredients that're the hard part. Underground communities always suffer for variance. I doubt Hallownest could support a population like that again without reinstating imports." Lemm catches himself wanting to veer off into a historical debate and coughs lightly. "...Haven't been cooking much," he admits just to get off that particular track.

Absently, because he is thinking about food and because he was eating them earlier, he slides the candy jar towards himself and gets as far as plucking one out before remembering himself. The Knight is eyed with some measure of inner debate before Lemm decides he's going to attract questions putting it back and just pops it quickly into his mouth.

"Preserved stuff is easier to find in a place like this. Dried or pickled or what have you. Convenient for a bug who doesn't want to stay away from his work for long, as well." Is that telling? Lemm hopes not, but he's not stupid... "I can point you to a few places I haven't searched, if it interests you. I know you have other friends who eat."

If you like. They can find more for him if he needs it. And they might find something to use, if they find an urge to cook; Lemm would be the only to appreciate it.

They pause, staring at nothing.

That isn't true. Myla likely would. Most of Dirtmouth could. Some of Deepnest might. The Knight...hasn't thought to offer until now.

I plan on checking the Hive to see if I can pilfer some eventually. Honey lasts and the majority of bugs seem to like it. Without moving their head, they glance at the emptier jar.

Then their stare slides over to the stack of papers. The historically-significant papers, though what they saw looked like general conversation.

They're historically significant and not only from their travelling across Hallownest, which they knew and yet strikes them again.

I would prefer if it kept away from my current pr situations, but I don't mind if you want to talk/ask about more history otherwise.

Something he can be helpful about, at last! While they keep writing the rest, Lemm thinks for a while.

"Most of the north end I've not gotten around to." He is still obviously talking around the sweet in his mouth, though he's trying to be discreet about it. "And the Royal Quarter. The street level gates I could usually find my way around, but these towers are a navigational nightmare as soon as a few doors are locked. And I've a feeling I should keep my territory away from the main street now I know there're inhabitants, but you can do as you please."

Okay, reading the rest now. Lemm looks somewhat shy of what they've said, and takes a little while to respond.

"I'd be one of them," he admits, tapping seem to like it with a hesitant claw. Then, with a soft crunch as he bites down: "Obviously."

And he stalls, then.

"I... know you don't mind. You're funny like that. Just picking my moments. I've a tendency to go on until I'm stopped, and I don't want to fill all our time with history talk." Lemm looks terribly awkward about this. "I've been enjoying... not that. As well." Handwave! "Though if you prefer-?"

They could break down those doors now, as they've realized before but haven't yet done.

--They could climb the towers and break the windows, if they tried. This idea is deeply entertaining, no matter how quickly they realize they shouldn't. Too much water might get in and ruin more of what's left. Doors only.

And here comes annoyance. Millibelle's still around here? They assume she's who he means, outside of Emilitia. The Knight's genuinely surprised she hasn't been frightened off yet.

To that, they nod. You gave me the idea, they inform him, mildly amused.

Although, nearly as awkward, they stare at the page in front of them for a little while before admitting I enjoy most of our conversation, but I'm not sure what else to say now. My mind is full of they make a half-arc gesture at nothing with their free paw difficulties.

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