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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Lemm opts to wait just outside the Temple, watching them from the door. He feels a little strange about that place, now. It's like a symbol of what his current work is for, or at least a solid chunk of it. History was always easier when the only person he examined it for was himself.

He'll be back, later. To fact-check and verify. When he's got enough to do that for. (Feels strange, too, imagining an end to that.)

Lemm waits until the Knight is clambering up over the edge before he even starts, mindful of how a second climber would jar the chain for them. When he takes his turn, it's slowly done and with a lot of use of the walls to make things easier. Up is, indeed, a hassle.

Eventually he claws his way over the lip and hangs there for a moment, face half-sunk behind his arms in a way that looks entirely casual and partly happens to mask the fact that he's panting. Then he hauls himself up and over, wincing as his beard snags between the chain and the well and he has to irritably snatch it back.

(He decides, then and there, he's going to keep his eyes down and not check who might be watching.)

Elderbug is there, greeting them, and then "Oh!" at the sight of Lemm. "Hello--"

Zote is there.

And with that, they don't even wait to hear what he starts saying. They grab Lemm's hand and immediately starts pulling him towards their house, past the knight of no renown before he can fully center his attention. Some time they would find the potential of them arguing amusing, or at least interesting, but this is not it.

Elderbug watches them pass in bemusement and some small understanding.

Yes, he decided he wasn't going to, but the instinct to look up when you're addressed like that wins out for a second and Elderbug gets a bewildered look before Lemm is pulled away.

It'd be rude of him not to - they're moving very fast, though - but what if this reflects badly -

Helped very much by the Knight's hurrying, Lemm is forced to cut off the panicked reaction of how do I respond, and instead just flags a hand over his shoulder in a very rushed little wave without looking back.

In hindsight: probably the best option.

"Need to get better at this," he mutters, just loud enough for the Knight to hear, as they head for their home.

He will hear a "You blaggard! Pass me by without a..." trailing off in a voice that is very much not Elderbug's, and the Knight only picks up the pace. Fortunately their house is very close by, so they're practically inside before they can catch anything else; the wind takes care of it.

Cornifer lowers a tiny notebook, looking surprised. "Hello! Both of you. Is everything alright?"

The Knight nods furiously. It's fine. It's just Zote.

On the couch behind where Cornifer is seated on one of several floor cushions, Myla is also looking vaguely in their direction. The Knight knows she sometimes waves, but her hands and upper torso are currently busy being pinned under Grimmchild's curled-up body.

Lemm, already offset by this situation, seems to be focusing very carefully on just getting from A to B. The voice that follows after them only serves to make him stare harder at the back of the Knight's horns. Who on earth would be shouting at them like that.

It is a relief when he can pull the door closed behind them, and as unsociable as he is, Cornifer is a welcome alternative.

Straightening up and self-consciously pulling his hand from the Knight's, Lemm fusses with his beard and dips his head in a curt nod to Cornifer's question - and then to Myla, who seems more present than last he saw her.

He sounds breathless, in mind if not in actual breath: "Dropping by for a visit," he says, which he's pretty sure is the natural and innocuous thing to say. As if he does it all the time.

...Ah. What do people say next, though.

Lemm glances from Cornifer to Myla to the Knight, narrows his eyes, and goes silent instead.

Cornifer watches them both, bemused, head briefly following the Knight as they trot over to Myla.

Grimmchild protests mildly as they get pushed down by increments, onto her lap instead. The Knight has no sympathy. They're allowed to be up there when she's asleep, all the way, and she isn't!

"Well, it's good to see you again!" Cornifer says after absorbing that sight. "We just finished dinner, but there's some salted radishes left over," he adds, nodding towards a container on the table. (It's a different one from last time, much sturdier.)

That's aimed at Lemm more than the Knight. He's been starting to notice certain odd things about his friend, and he's slower on the uptake on these things than Iselda. No words exchanged, they're politely deciding to ignore it for now.

This is all very nice, and ordinary. The Knight is fussing with - their... pet? Their strange companion that looks at him with unsettling eyes and haunts a Charm. He lacks a word for this. But small creature being a nuisance he thinks he's seen before, at least.

Cornifer is being friendly. Food is being shared, like Iselda did but less - ...less. This is a broad offer and not task delegation. Also very ordinary.

Two bugs, a Vessel, and a strange chirping creature being ordinary and domestic.

No, three. Three bugs. He is here also. Right. Still standing by the door.

Lemm fails to answer Cornifer's prompt for enough time that he feels awkward about answering at all: "I just ate."

...

...Oh, good grief.

"Thank you."

Edited (1. spacing / 2. "question" -> "prompt" bc he didnt actually ask one. social cue either way) 2023-03-20 20:53 (UTC)

Cornifer nods, accepting this. Some of that pause was ascribed to the rush they both came in, for whatever reason.

He stands and stretches, tucking his notebook into the pocketed belt that substitutes his sack when he's not to wander. "Well, I'll be leaving it here. It's salted enough it'll keep for a while," he says to the Knight. "If you're staying?"

They nod. One of Myla's hands rises, patting them on a horn before returning to Grimmchild. They pat her back, and tap Grimmchild between their eyes, who completely ignores this.

The question isn't directed at him, so Lemm just stands there.

(The mining-bug is being far more responsive. It feels less like delirium and more like disorientation. Suddenly the Knight's visit makes more sense; she really is doing better. Somehow.)

Lemm watches until Cornifer makes for the door. This prompts him to realise he's still standing in front of it, and he diverts away to go find a place to put his bag, as if he'd been meaning to the whole time. As if he's not someone who needs to get acclimatised to a home he's been invited to.

"Thank you," he calls over his shoulder, clipped and weird, as the door shuts.

Lemm resists the urge to lean horn-first against the wall where he's dumped his bag. Like a rusty gate he turns slowly to face the room again and wanders over to the table.

Grimmchild's charm is transferred on the couch, and they wave as Cornifer vanishes out the door.

Maybe they should've warned him about Zote. He's standing outside the map shop, after all...but they're not going to chase him for it. Everyone's dealt with Zote. Iselda can rescue him if there's trouble.

At as much of a loss but not quite as obvious, they adjust Myla's nest a little and then wander to the table, too, and look in at the radishes. Yes, looks like radishes, sliced into manageable chunks. They can't smell it, but they look clean. As they expect they would be, but old Wastes-traveller habits win out, and they poke it with a three-pronged fork resting nearby to make sure.

He should say something to Myla. No, he shouldn't, it's not his guest and he doesn't do that sort of thing. Didn't do that sort of thing? Too late, anyway, maybe the moment's gone.

Lemm settles at the table and tries to stop overthinking the social contract thing, only now he has a different problem because there is food in front of him.

It occurs to him very belatedly that he has forgotten to attend to several of the basic requirements of an ordinary bug, at first due to getting typically wrapped up in his work and then because the Knight dropped by to provide further distractions. This complicates things.

He tears his eyes away from the radishes and nonchalantly scans the room instead, skirting over the details in case anything else than the table has changed since last time.

"Should get mine up," he mutters, with a gesture at the Delicate Flower sconce. "I've a terrible habit of wanting to have things and then doing nothing with them."

There are several extra cushions littering the floor. The tarp outside the window is still there, but now there's a rough curtain (that the Knight did not install) hanging over it to hide it. There's a shelving unit against the wall that mostly has cutlery and pots and the like and isn't likely to collapse under their weight. There are many, many more blankets around the couch, on top and spilling off. The table, too, is surrounded by proper stools, one of which the Knight is standing on.

They sift through the radishes a bit more until they're judged reasonable, and then they flop down to sit.

You might hang it somewhere without a lumafly. It would still look nice nonfunctional. It isn't as though theirs is doing amazingly well, hanging awkwardly on the ceiling rather than on a wall as designed.

Lemm takes it all in, feeling oddly wistful. It looks a little bit more like a home, now. He finds himself hoping the trend continues, for their sake. (There is a lot in here that can only be for other people. This is quietly noted, and approved of - perhaps hypocritically...)

Look nice. What a strange thing to think about suddenly, because yes, the sconce objectively looks nice, but - also his shop already does look nice, it's why he chose the place, it has period features! But barring the relics on display, which is different, it occurs to him now that not much is anything he put there for the sake of looking nice.

"...I might," he says, after this thought. "You're doing a fine job of making this place look lived in, if that's anything." There. A compliment. People compliment each other's houses.

And it's kind of true. Honestly, he doesn't take much issue with their flower-sconce being hung up like that. It reminds him vaguely of some kind of eclectic mobile. Suits their weirdness just fine for the time being.

Their head turns, taking a moment to peer around the room.

Myla also takes the moment to wave at the both of them. She keeps glancing between Grimmchild and Lemm.

This is the Knight's own house, but they haven't...stopped to examine it in a while. I didn't think I'd stay in here much, but now that I have reason, I suppose you're right.
I like the cushions. I might get more from the residential district if any kept.

Lemm is kind of surprised to be waved at. Maybe he shouldn't be. She's conscious (...somewhat?) and that's a fairly ordinary reaction to have to seeing people.

He hesitantly waves back, or rather raises a hand at her in a more reserved way and offers another little nod.

"...Hi," he offers as a verbal component, not quite convinced she's seeing him properly. He's very quiet about it, and feels like that was simultaneously too much and somehow not enough of an effort.

His attention snaps gratefully back to the Knight's words when they finish writing, the distraction wholly welcome.

"Aye. I'll keep an eye out for any that didn't take in the damp. I've been through the same thing." They know. They've seen where he sleeps. Isn't that a thought. "S'there anything else you'd want to put in here? Might be able to streamline the search a bit."

Myla continues to watch him, thinking. Thinking is slow. Like swimming through molten gold. She's doing that somewhere, watching a few bronze masks back, but she can.

This is the first place I've really had for myself. They've never mentioned this, have they? I haven't thought about it. I didn't know I'd like the cushions. I should experiment.

The first-? Right, they wandered, somehow this thought hadn't occurred to him quite so starkly as it does now.

"Sometimes that's a milestone," he says, deliberately vague. "Either way it's bound to be something to adjust to, but that's the way of it: you've your own space and you can do what you please until it's to your liking."

Saying this out loud, he considers that maybe he forgot that somewhere along the way. That's not exactly how his living space has been for quite some time. Hm.

A nod of acknowledgement, and they glance the room again, not absorbing it as much as...just looking. Their house, their space. Their...complete lack of ideas.

Do you have any suggestions? The Knight assumes Lemm would know better than they, and that his amount of clutter is how he happens to like it. Other than relics. I promise not to steal any for here.

The Knight assumes incorrectly.

"Wouldn't have suspected you until you said it, you little would-be thief," he gruffly points out. And waves a hand quickly. Kidding, kidding. He knows they wouldn't.

Um. Suggestions. Does he have any.

Lemm's mind supplies him with a whopping great expanse of blank, and he just sits there in an uncomfortably intense stare at the table. ...Until the Relic Seeker part kicks in, and he thinks about other people: homes and lounges he's seen in the capital...

"Could put up some more pictures," he starts, sounding uncertain. "Flowers maybe. More storage." What did Ze'mer have? Her house was lived-in. "Somewhere to write, or fix your map. You do a lot of writing. Should have a place for that."

Another bout of hesitation. He snaps his fingers a couple of times to urge himself to think of the words.

"The - those - stuffed toys," he comes up with eventually, and immediately cringes. "You pointed out the - the toy Nail, at the mansion. No, sorry. Poor suggestion."

Ugh. He sits back, embarrassed, and rubs at his forehead in a way that conveniently blocks out his face.

Edited (pedant) 2023-03-21 11:35 (UTC)

They make a mocking grabbing motion with their paws. They are a thief at times! Often of things nobody is left to care about.

Lemm stares into the table, and they stare at Lemm, listening hard. He sounds uncertain, but it's still more than they've got. More pictures--they don't have any, but could get some from Sheo and the Nailsmith (whose name they should learn), perhaps. Flowers, yes. Storage that isn't them, incredibly helpful, yes. They don't need a writing anything--

...but this isn't about exactly what they need. They can have things they don't need, only want. They can try that.

The cushio--

"A st-story shelf," Myla suddenly suggests. "For your papers, if you b-b-bind them! You write a lot."

They glance at the single shelf they've got, full of pots and bowls. They don't know what a 'story shelf' entails, and she generally can't focus on what they write, but they could use more of those in general. They dip their head to her.

He perks up at Myla's contribution. She's been very quiet until now, but this does tell him she's more present than he suspected.

Lemm turns to look at her. He figures he can probably guess what a story shelf is, though there may be some nuance he's missing. Maybe he'll keep an eye out for that term when he gets home, just to be safe.

...Almost a little amused by the thought that occurs next, he flashes the Knight a frank look.

"Sounds like she's got the right of it. Should be asking her, not someone who lives where he works."

Is it rude to talk about her in front of her, if it's technically meant as a compliment? Just in case, he nods at her:

"Not a bad idea. The Knight and I are both fumbling for suggestions, if I'm honest."

They dip their head to her again and finally remember to elaborate: A good idea. I will later. She has trouble reading my writing here.

"Sure! But I think they're d-doing p-pretty well now too!"

Myla runs a hand between Grimmchild's wings, staring at Lemm a little more.

"You...you're a R-Relic Seeker?" she asks tentatively.

Lemm nods at that. It has occurred to him now that their vocal silence may have been a problem when trying to communicate with someone who seemed mostly delirious.

...Oh. She remembers, does she. That was unintended. Lemm finds himself a little apprehensive, even though realistically there's nothing for her to remember about him but his title. At least now he's glad he hadn't lied.

"Aye." Is he going to have to explain the profession? "Still have your songs in a drawer in my shop." They count, rather like Ze'mer's poetry. This he kindly leaves out. "Interesting cadence."

"So that r-really happened! I thought you...you weren't in G-Godhome, when I looked."

Myla's very relieved that has an explanation now. The Siblings still unsettle her, but she's aware of them and played splashing games with some, after she realized she can't drown and can swim to the edge. The Godseekers are...very weird, and she knows them better now. She hasn't been allowed in the Pantheons to fight--not that she wants to, at all--and there's been nothing to spectate, so she hasn't seen any other sort of being but those.

The rest of it connects a little later, and she perks up. "Oh, thanks! I'm g-glad you saved them."

To the side, the Knight nods their own approval.

Edited 2023-03-21 15:09 (UTC)

"No, a mundane bug like me's got no business being somewhere like that. You'll find I'm firmly in Dirtmouth." Nor does she, but that goes without saying, and anyway they're working on it. "I don't live here though. Came up from the capital."

Absently, Lemm's hand strays to toy with the fork. He wonders what that's like, being partly here and partly there. Confusing it sounds like. Anyway, best she doesn't start getting ideas.

"Don't read too much into it," he deflects, sounding a tad meek. "Anyway I'm up to speed, in case you're wondering - the Knight filled me in. Might be a bit before it all gets straightened out, but it will." He affords a glance to the Knight, too - this is as much for them as it is for her.

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