voicetest the voiceless

[focusedvoid]

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.

Comments

[capitalcurator]

He makes a very quiet wavering sound as he registers which way they're going (up) and a hand snaps out to cling tightly at one of their claws.

He should have let them put him down, maybe. But he wants to push himself, a little. Other bugs do it all the time when they have good reason, in Journals and diaries and messages. Usually because they have some silly idea in their heads of what the future will look like if they do. Not all of them end so badly.

He manages a furtive glance up at the towers they're passing - through a cage of claws, he registers, because they are being terribly careful. He wishes it helped more. It's not fair on them that it doesn't.

As if to try and assuage some of the guilt that springs up there, Lemm manages to give their claw an even tighter squeeze. He knows they've got him, it's just - his body won't take the memo.

He's not going to be much help with navigation.

[focusedvoid]

The speed changes every so often. At their size, the Lord of Shades doesn't notice, but Lemm in his state likely will. Slight jolts forward when they think they recognize something, or realize they don't; stretches where they slow and drift minutely downward, reconsidering the whole thing. But then what was the point?

Lemm squeezes, in reassurance or fear, and they can't respond back.

They don't have their map.

No, they have it. It's just useless as it is. A few Siblings shuffle through their things to peer, just in case, but they technically lack charms, and so the Wayward Compass doesn't activate, and so they don't know where they are. The City is huge, and the endless water obscures their vision further out. (Overcautious, knowing this, they still don't dare reaching too far with other senses.)

But--the Spire. It has to be visible at some point. They just--they keep going, shifting to follow the streets better. Surely, eventually...

[capitalcurator]

His heart jumps every time. It's not fair! Of all the things it's motion and the sudden jolts (they're not, really, but in his state he'd call a nudge a shove) are really playing on his nerves...

What are they doing? He's a little disoriented and caught up in the terror of being carried around like loose change but shouldn't they be there by now?

Lemm forces himself to lift his head just slightly, just enough to squint out through a small window between their claws to catch sight of the windows sliding past. After about three, the familiar map in his head sparks up with some useful information.

"Oh," he says, still immeasurably tense, and squeezes their claw again. "Knight! Why - why are we in the southern quarter?"

His voice may be smothered by his nerves, but there's a familiar note of indignance lodged in it nevertheless. This is... not where they maintained they'd be going.

[focusedvoid]

Southern Quarter--the Spire must be more Northern, then. Likely in the center of the City entirely. Which is...north.

Where is north.

The Lord of Shades shudders to a stop awkwardly in midair, the top half of them going near-ramrod straight. Slowly.

Hello, Lemm, sorry, they...are not prideful enough to admit they aren't lost in this scenario. They use the hat rack to vaguely point. That way?

[capitalcurator]

Lemm shrinks back against their claws again in dread as he feels them brake.

But it confirms his suspicion, which is that they were not in fact sure which way they were going and he's just cast further doubt on it. Ugh.

Ugh! in fact.

Lemm presses trembling hands behind him and eases himself forward a bit. He can't get a proper view with their claws cupped so closely around him like this.

"Off with you," he directs, ticking his horn vaguely at the hand being used as a guard. "Let me see."

[focusedvoid]

Their claws spread to give a better view. They're not going to take their hand away fully, no matter how large their palm is. Lemm's shakiness throughout their attempted ride was noticeable, and the unsteadiness of that first Stag ride is sharp in their mind.

There's still plenty of room. He could walk over and lean against one claw like a railing in front of a drop, should he like.

[capitalcurator]

As the Lord of Shades' claws let in more of the dim City light, he blows out a breath in a long, measured huff. Alright.

His hand slides up their claw behind him and he pushes himself slowly upright. He tests how the platform of their hand feels under his feet - still not good, but manageable when they're keeping fairly still.

Now that he's standing though he can make out the details he needs. There's a closeness to the towers here that turns this part of the city into somewhat of a near-opaque tangle - no wonder they couldn't get their bearings. But he's been here, or nearby. At least one of the buildings nearby he's pretty sure he's been in to the ground floor.

Lemm's head turns to point directly north, with little ceremony or forethought. There's a tower in the way.

"That way," he declares, and points past it down a turn-off with one shaky hand before it snaps safely back against their claw. "And then a right."

[focusedvoid]

A short nod (that nevertheless shakes their whole form). That way. They have no reason to distrust him, only their own self--direction-wise, at least.

They return their claws to position around him. They'll wait until he settles to keep moving.

There are a pair of eyes peering at Lemm from their palm.

[capitalcurator]

Agh, and the shake has him rattled again. Whatever - they've got it, they've got him, they've got their direction - Lemm presses his back against them again and slides down without a sound, eyes already screwed shut. Standing up was maybe a bad idea?

...He's fine. If he just stays down and keeps breathing steady maybe he can adjust, even! Maybe. Not now though. They might feel a slight tremor now and then in the way he's bracing himself this time, though Lemm does his best to keep it to a minimum.

Still, at least if he keeps his wits about him maybe he'll have some more warning about which direction they're going to move next, so Lemm forces himself to look.

There is someone looking back.

Relic Seeker Lemm stares, kind of intense without meaning to be, and unable to formulate any kind of more acceptable response. He is under a lot of stress!

[focusedvoid]

It's not Greenhorn, until they're there too. It's the Suspicious Sibling, emboldened by their encounter with Grimm, phasing into existence, 'sitting' on the Lord of Shades' palm and staring placidly back, as though a normal occurrence. Greenhorn appears a moment later, shooting across the claws until they're clinging to the one Lemm is, just on the opposite side of him. Hi, hello! This is less scary to them than the Stag was, because they're part of it.

The Knight is moving at a glacial pace, trying to make sure they're going the right way and keep an eye on the little Shades about at once. They shouldn't bother Lemm right now. He's dealing with enough.

This goes entirely ignored.

[capitalcurator]

His head twitches towards Greenhorn and back to the other Sibling in minute acknowledgement. That isn't them, then.

He's dimly wondered how much the little Siblings might be aware of when they're part of the whole - either way, even if they've seen him before, this one is a stranger to Lemm and he wishes their introduction wasn't happening now.

Neither of them should see him like this.

Subtly, Lemm straightens up.

[focusedvoid]

Greenhorn is watching the scenery go by, just happy to be here. It's fine, Knight! They're just sitting here! Both of them!

Suspicious Sibling mimics Lemm a little. Since they're already resting all sprawled out, it just looks like the Lord of Shades hit a bump nobody else noticed.

The Lord of Shades shifts around the tower and...goes right? Is this when they should go right? Perhaps they should just--go...diagonally. North and east. They'll reach the Royal Quarter that way, they believe?

[capitalcurator]

Lemm is feeling terribly overwhelmed and the feeling of the Void-hand floor moving beneath him is making a mess of his thoughts, but - there are little Siblings watching him and he needs to get ahold of himself.

He steels his nerve, forces a hand up for a half-wave in greeting to them both as though nothing is wrong whatsoever, and manages to look at least somewhat stoic.

...Are they improvising on his directions? Ugh, he'll correct them when he finds his voice again.

[focusedvoid]

Suspicious Sibling--not quite suspicious now--stares. And then they realize oh! Lemm can see them. He's waving at them. They draw up one raggedy tendril to wave back.

It hits the full void form of the palm they're sitting on when they're done. They startle and look down before doing it again. Palm-smack. It doesn't make a sound, but it feels different than bumping the windy form of another Shade-Sibling or the liquid of Void in their shared dream-self.

Smack. Smack. Smack. (At least they're not staring at Lemm this way.)

The City is huge, but so is the Lord of Shades. They still travel a good distance taking the slow-steady pace. Darkness looms ahead of them--not a tower, but the wall to Kingdom's Edge.

Relieved, they alter course to follow it until the Watcher's Spire appears to their left. They know the border, they know their way, they know this.

Even with Lemm afraid in their careful hold, they remember what he's said before, and think sardonically: thank the Shadelord for the walls--

--and their form slams to a halt, as though they've hit one midair.

They're aware. They don't know the streets, but now, they know exactly where the borders of the City of Tears, every bit of length, chinks and routes in and out.

They shudder and drift lower, aiming for the Spire, and then, the Square.

It's been a long while since they last felt relief seeing their tallest Sibling's memorial.

[capitalcurator]

...The Sibling's antics are admittedly kind of distracting, in a way that further confuses the noise in his head. Of which there is a lot.

He is so addled by everything going on at once it's hard to be completely focused on the fear, even - at least until the sudden stop, which takes him by surprise enough for a full body quake to rattle through him.

(He catches the noise he might have made at the shock, even so, because the Siblings are here.)

Deep breath. It'll be done soon. He thinks they might be close?

The Lord of Shades has yet to drop him, and it makes it easier to believe they won't. It's just time. He needs time...

[focusedvoid]

They sink and coil around the Fountain, finally landing between the canals. Their body stays around their tallest Sibling's stone figure, ignoring them and the Dreamers looking up. They just need to do this for the sake of space. And to not land too heavily.

The Lord of Shades settles down until their hands are a hop's height from the ground.

(Not-So-)Suspicious Sibling looks up when they gently open their claws. They're being nice, Lemm saw them. They flop-wave.

The Knight is more concerned about Lemm directly. Greenhorn lets go and drifts around him, examining. Is he okay?

[capitalcurator]

Lemm doesn't immediately move - he gives himself a long moment to inhale, hold, exhale, and then nods acknowledgement at the other Sibling - then he slowly pushes himself to his feet again.

As he moves a noticeably-shaky hand goes in to lightly pat Greenhorn, some part of him still half-expecting his hand to go through, for once too flooded with other concerns to worry about impulse control.

Perhaps most tellingly of all Lemm crouches to gingerly foot-test his way off their hand, refamiliarising himself with the solid stone floor as if the drop is far more than it really is.

Eventually though he's on solid ground again and with a measured, rattling sigh he turns to check on the Lord of Shades, as a whole.

"...'M fine," he says, first, because there is absolutely not a chance they didn't feel all that.

[focusedvoid]

Greenhorn enthusiastically pushes their soft horns into his hand. Lemm's okay! Mostly okay? Okay enough for pats. Suspicious(-Again, for different reasons than with Grimm) Sibling disappears into the shadows of their palm, though they're still watching out.

The Lord of Shades keeps that hand's claws sticking out for something to grab, should he need it. Or want it. Other claws delicately trace across the ground.

MY
APOLOGIES.
FORGOT
GETTING
LOST
EASILY.

The hat rack is deposited by Lemm's building, and their head settles to nearly pressing against the ground. He says fine, but they can't help concern and swirling doubt.

[capitalcurator]

He folds his hands in front of him and rubs a thumb mindlessly into his palm while he watches them etch.

They get a quick, uncharacteristic head-shake and some mild noise in the negative to dismiss the apology as unneeded.

...

He rallies, a moment later, and walks that timidness back a little bit with a sharp sigh.

"Had to drag me all over Hallownest, didn't you? Surprised we didn't end up at Queen's Gardens."

It's not quite as acerbic as his usual self but it's something. He's better already for being on the floor.

[focusedvoid]

Ah. That's certainly more like Lemm. Still, they stay as they are, settling their hands on the ground on either side. Greenhorn is hovering above one, staring at a nearby hanging sign contemplatively.

BEST
PEST,
NOT
GUIDE.

There, teasing a little. Though they bump his side with the edge of their shortest claw.

ALRIGHT?

[capitalcurator]

Lemm huffs. His hands return to his sides.

"Nuisance."

He actively braces for the nudge by widening his stance just a notch. He's not steady, yet, even for something so light. A hand comes to rest on their claw either in acknowledgement or warning.

"Aye." Mostly? He sighs, glances over at Greenhorn not so subtly, then fixes the Shadelord with a candid little tense look. "I like solid ground, that's all."

[focusedvoid]

Their claw falls beneath his touch, as though his hand weighs as much as the Spire, pinning it down.

Their head tilts, peering between Greenhorn and Lemm, uncomprehending what that look meant. The former drifts up to nudge the sign into swinging, sweeping backward in alarm when the metal squeaks.

APOLOGIES
STILL.
NO
MORE
OF
THAT.

[capitalcurator]

He winces.

This was what he'd been afraid of - well, not as much as being carried, but it was something he'd been dreading.

Another quick glance at Greenhorn to check they're distracted - yes - and a once-over sweep to check for any other curious eyes, not that he expects to have any real grasp on whether the others are listening or not. And then he awkwardly, reluctantly stage-whispers:

"I'll get over it! It wasn't you."

[focusedvoid]

Besides agitated tendrils, the Lord of Shades is motionless for a time.

Lemm sounds insistent, but they aren't sure. He was uncomfortable. He was afraid. And that wasn't unreasonable, even if they hadn't accidentally prolonged the experience.

Slowly, they trace:

IS
NOT
NECESSARY.

[capitalcurator]

A little more animated now, and less spooked.

"Oh, pah. Please! I've spent too much time in a city of husks not to get over a silly thing like - like - "

- Handwave, handwave. He haughtily sticks one hand on his side and gives an annoyed hum at not being able to find the words.

"Don't swear it off, will you!"