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

[focusedvoid]

The Knight further gathers their body back into their usual tiny form. They do notice--or rather, they're quickly informed by nervous others--that there's a Sibling missing somewhere below, which doesn't quite hurry them. Lemm should be safe enough.

...There's an actual gigantic imprint in the grime on the floor of their distinctive face-shape, eight eyes and all.

Fuck, again.


They're disappointed, but that's forgotten quickly enough with his beckoning as distraction. Three-horned Sibling comes along merrily, thinking over what Lemm just called them. Greenhorn? Like...Greenpath? Green horns would be nicer than white or black. Greenhorn! Three-horned-Greenhorn, following on the same side of Lemm's head as his horns, almost--but not quite!--close enough to touch.


In the middle of the path, the pair will find the Knight standing there, rubbing at their face despite nothing being physically on it. Ugh. They dispise politicking and they dislike sleeping when they aren't prepared for it.

After Lemm's in view for a moment, they glance up and give a half-hearted nod before going back to it.

The grime isn't even the problem. Sleep always left them with a strange sense of accumulated filth around their eyes, and ascending hasn't made a difference.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm is just reassured that they're following him at all. He's more than a bit scared of what the consequences might be if this doesn't sit well with the host. Best to return the little one to their... ah, family, or whatever this dynamic is, before he looks like he's trouble.

He's acutely aware of the presence near his horns. He's going to look strange. He always looks strange. Nothing he can do about that.

Lemm arrives in the Stag Station with his momentary companion, and he is about to say something but the Knight nods, so he just nods in return and hopes the reunition goes smoothly enough that he can duck out before anyone's the wiser that he was really there at all.

[focusedvoid]

No such luck. Sibling briefly wobbles through the air closer to let them know how Lemm showed them things, and named them Greenhorn! And then they wobble right back to Lemm when the Knight doesn't immediately call them.

The Knight gives Lemm a measured look once their eyes seem less disgusting. (Now that they're more aware of what they are...perhaps some Void spills out and crusts over? It's a theory.) Greenhorn. Not the most flattering title.

...Better than ghost of a place one has no memory of, and they've come to accept it all the same.

Now back in front of Lemm, inadvertently blocking his sight from the little wanderer, Greenhorn points up to the Stag Station sign, expectant. They sort of know what that is, but he knows more!

[capitalcurator]

So. He has confirmed that the big one, the one he knew first, is still alive and apparently doing fine. The spillage in the stagways and storerooms was just normal and natural. Alright.

Lemm waits desperately as the wanderer stares at him. Dismiss him, let him go home. Please. He's not suited to this environment, he needs to be alone and forget he ever interacted. Let him go.

The little shade gets his attention, and he starts like he's awakened from a daze.

"...City Storerooms, Stag Station," he reads plainly, looking up but aware the Knight is watching him and hating every second of it. "Stags were a primary mode of transport. Fast legs," he's being watched by someone he isn't directly talking to and he hates that, "and they apparently took well to the routine of carrying bugs about. I'll be going," he declares suddenly, and turns.

[focusedvoid]

Just as Lemm turns, the Knight is beginning to pull out their map, which takes a little more work now that it has a case to fiddle with. They pause mid-movement to look at him in faint puzzlement their mask can't properly express.

Greenhorn is staring, a little lost as he cuts himself off. That's about the general Stags, but they thought he'd say a little more about this one.

...Maybe they scared him again? Greenhorn sinks down until they nearly brush the floor. It wasn't them who did it, but maybe he thinks they did something to wake Strongest Sibling--Knight, that's their name--back up...

[capitalcurator]

The truth is Lemm just scared, maybe by no one in particular. Not even just because of the Knight witnessing that he's here, but also compounded with other, older, far-more-buried complications regarding a long-time antisocial and his ability to be part of anything.

Relic Seeker Lemm makes it to the door, and he stops, and he remembers at least some of the manners that people use, and he dips his head in an over-the-shoulder nod to excuse himself. "This one's a scholar," he says... and immediately regrets it. Bad bad stupid thing to say.

Out, out, out. He storms down steps and along corridors and hurries home. Maybe he will leave if bugs start moving into Hallownest. Maybe it'd be best.

[focusedvoid]

Greenhorn settles back into the Void, confused and discontent. They must have scared him. But he said they were a scholar? A good thing, the Knight assures, though slightly uncertain.

The Old Stag comes when they ring the bell. He's somewhat wary, but dutiful as ever, though he requests they not do what they did with the 'black stickiness' near the Stagways again. They agree, and head on.

Dirtmouth, first, where they equip Grimmchild. Their nerve fails them before they reach the tents, as it had several near-attempts before. They backtrack, buy a new set of pins from Iselda (a shiny dark green), and decide they'd prefer exploring Crystal Peak.

A great number of dead miners litter the tunnels and shafts. Far more creatures that used crystal spikes of defense died where they continue to cling, simpler obstacles than when they lived, but still in the way. The ones with light beams scorching the walls have stopped doing that in death.

Some of the miners' pick-claws are left on the floors of empty rooms. That could be positive, if some left instead of dying in place.

...There is still no sign of Myla. They don't like that.

The Knight plans to see Mato. Instead, they find themselves in the company of Sheo and the Nailsmith, where they take some time to be calm. They decline their offer to join in their drawing, though they may at another time, with how several Siblings watch with interest.

The Archives are locked. The Shade Lord could force their way inside. They decide they'll return later.

They loop back to the City. They had an agreement with Lemm. Surely, it's been long enough since they startled him? If not, they'll learn as soon as they darken the door to his shop.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm's been busy. It's not just the City he's been familiarising himself with, this time - he's quite content with his understanding of the layout as it stands.

There really are so many places he can go now that the infection is gone. The whole world has opened up. Lemm isn't keen on the wider implications for the future, but he'd be mad not to admit it's a relief to be able to pick his route at liesure and not spend half of the day hiding.

He goes on his first proper expedition since the infection got bad. It's an easy one on purpose, just up and around and through the old Crossroads to the edge of Greenpath. His route does not slow when it takes him below the well, and if it does there's no one around to see.

By the time he returns to his shop to take down the note he habitually left on the door, he's feeling much less on edge. Hallownest is still blissfully quiet, and he's a few new puzzle pieces for his efforts.

The Knight will find him studying charcoal rubbings and comparing dialects. Nothing seems amiss, though he avoids mentioning their deal right away.

"On the counter if you're selling."

[focusedvoid]

It appears Lemm isn't immediately upset, in either anger or panic. Or his anger masking panic. A far better reception than they realized they were bracing for until it didn't happen.

They've had plenty more time to muse on how unsettling they must seem during their wanderings. They hadn't quite considered how Hallownest has made them...complacent, perhaps. Others here have made assumptions about them, but of their capability being a genuine threat were few and far between. Lemm hasn't seemed too affected in the long run. This doesn't mean not at all.

They're also at a loss of what to do about it as of now. (They're grateful they put Grimmchild back when they made questioning noises in Dirtmouth. Spitting fire and dancing shadow is not a match to appear the opposite of dangerous.)

Rather than stopping at the counter, the Knight quietly walks past it. They'll simply...stare out at the rain until he's finished, or speaks up.

[capitalcurator]

There is something off, because he does not shoo them on their way as soon as it's clear they don't have anything to sell. It's not long before he pipes up regardless, though. As much as he claims otherwise, Lemm really is a chatter. It's just that usually bugs talk back and he doesn't like that so much.

"The old kingdom's finally dead for good, it seems," he remarks over the top of a piece of parchment. "No doubt some must be rejoicing somewhere, even if it's from beyond the grave. This place had more than a few sour relations, and it's been clinging on with an iron grip for a long time."

A short pause.

"I don't expect anything from you, lit- wanderer. But I'd like to know what you are before I get myself in any more trouble."

[focusedvoid]

Hallownest is dead, yes, though corners of it still live. If those parts even count as such. Hornet still calls herself its princess-protector beside the Queen of Deepnest; the White Lady doesn't seem to have left her Gardens, though the Knight hasn't checked to know, really.

They can't help but pity her a little alongside their disgust at her locking herself away, awaiting one like them. They should take a moment to look. Later.

Lemm expects nothing? That feels a little odd. They had a deal. When they turn, they nod, though they also point to the nearest Arcane Egg. (Or wherever it is, if it's out of their line of sight. They can still sense its general place.)

[capitalcurator]

The one with its first layer revealed is still sitting in plain view - he's returned to it more than once, and it seems to have taken semi-permanent residence on the counter for now. Lemm seems to be keeping it in his sight for some reason rather than packing it away neatly.

"...If you insist." As if it took any convincing! He gestures to the egg as well. "Have at it. You'll be paid all the same no matter who you are. I'm telling you now I won't be strongarmed." Empty boasting. They could take the whole register and leave through the window and Lemm knows he'd be able to do nothing about it.

Lemm puts down the page he'd been studying and folds his hands together on the counter, just casually preparing to watch closely if they do in fact intend on taking another whack at it. He'll ask his questions in a minute when he's built the courage for it.

[focusedvoid]

That going first is just fine. The Knight hops up onto the counter rather than carry the Egg off, staring it down.

It's already open on the top layer...the shape it appeared to have bloomed around goes deeper, but...differently?

Crouching, they trace their blunt little clawtips over that again, feeling into the dark. The layer difference is thicker here, though it seems thinner even further in. Their reach gently splits along the shape, and then a little further--the Knight twitches when the thing seems to pop open rather than bloom. The next layer ends up sticking out more like the rings of a cooked onion someone pushed the center halfway from than a flower. It appears this is still correct when they flip it over, with the original strange shape on the outside sticking out on the protruding part.

The entire thing's silhouette...doesn't quite make sense. There shouldn't be enough room for that to have pushed out, even with layers hidden. Just as there shouldn't be enough space behind the Knight's mask to fit all the Void inside.

[capitalcurator]

He watches so attentively in the mild hopes that whatever they're doing is something he can replicate, but Lemm isn't massively surprised to find he can't figure it out this time either. A bit disappointed maybe but not surprised. He's probably the first to see this done in several hundred years.

Lemm waits until there's room to do so without getting in their way, and then reaches out to trace careful fingertips over some of the more fractal-looking parts. He's delicate as ever, frowning at the thing as the logic of it runs out. Lemm reaches for a quill-

No, he'll start in a minute. He tears his eyes off the egg and skips the quill, opens the till instead and counts out another hundred Geo. He loosely rests his hand on top of it, first.

"Tell-"

So far their answers have been fairly limited in scope, and this is a rather broad thing to ask. But maybe he'll get something out of it, even if it's a slap on the wrist and the knowledge not to ask again. Lemm tilts his horn in the direction of the still-open till, implicit that this is another part of the deal. He did say he'd have questions.

"Tell me about you."

[focusedvoid]

Right there on the counter, the Knight sits down.

They have no real need to refuse. Nor, to their own surprise, a pressing desire to try avoiding it, though Lemm couldn't stop them from walking out and going back to only relic-selling, if that.

It is broad. Extremely. Not an entirely new question. New in Hallownest--new since they've learned enough to potentially answer with more than gesture to their blade and the next path they're heading on. 'Little wanderer' was an apt title.

There's...so much. They--they actually want it known. Whatever 'it' is. To tell about the Knight, the Ghost of Hallownest, kingdom they barely knew that haunted them with their never dying, never knowing, chased by a scream they barely hesitated in following before even thinking to question why. The Vessel that almost made it. The Shade Lord, made of the Void united, and the many hatchlings that were left to die within it that couldn't fully let go even when the darkness called.

They make several aborted movements. To almost take out the map. Stopping. Consulting with Siblings, who have little to offer but Greenhorn's flicker of enthusiasm. Taking the map out, setting it down. Not actually pulling it open. Looking at the quill Lemm nearly picked up.

Looking at it for a very long time.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm is struggling with the long silence. He looks away for a while, takes his hand away from the Geo to scratch anxiously at his beard and then pushes up from his seat and thinks, I'll just go. I'll make them leave, then I'll go for a walk. No I won't. Coward. Sit back down.

"It's..." he tries, painfully aware of himself and that he is now standing up as if he has something important to say, which he does not. "I don't need all the answers. Just enough to know who I'm making deals with. That's all I want." No it's not, really.

He does not sit back down now that he's already standing, but he does pick up the Arcane Egg (carefully) and wander over to the window with it.

No, it's not all you want. Shouldn't have said anything. You've curbed them before they even started, if they'll start at all. Take it back.

"Hm. Forget that. What I mean is I'll take whatever you're willing to tell. If you're not willing, I won't be paying you extra, but I won't be pressing either..." Shut up! Stop it.

Lemm takes a deep, uneasy breath and stares out of the window and makes a herculean effort to stop running his mouth.

[focusedvoid]

Blustering about payment, hesitation...they can only guess if discomfort or fear fuels the latter. They do know he'll want to ask again later.

They've committed.

They're willing.

The Knight picks up the quill. Some things...can't be told through gestures and pointed stares. Not without bringing him directly to certain sources--no, not even then. The Abyss or the White Palace and its Path of Pain or the Black Egg all together wouldn't explain enough. That wouldn't explain them.

They have plenty of spare paper. Some bought from Iselda directly, some picked up from Cornifer's discarded attempts.

The Void experiments the Pale King--no. They don't want to start with him and his crimes.

They...don't know where to start.

...Perhaps that's where they should.

I've only recently discovered most of what I am, and how it is involved with this place. I do have information but don't know everything. I do not know where to start. If you have anything more specific you would like to begin with, I would appreciate that.

They slap their paw against the paper for attention and rotate it in Lemm's direction.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm feels like his hands are unsteady. He can't bring himself to put down the Arcane Egg, though; his fingers keep tracking over the details of it, familiarising himself with the thing though he can't translate much without sitting down and really focusing.

The noise shakes him out of his miserable overthinking and Lemm snaps around, half-expecting the huge shadow to be back and ready to give him a good telling-off for being so nosy. Instead it's... paper. Writing. He draws halfway closer and peers at it anxiously.

"...You..."

He's a quick reader. He looks up from the paper at the one who wrote it and shakes his head in disbelief. There is a moment where he looks like he might actually laugh, his expression stuck between shock and some complicated form of amusement.

"You secretive - urgh." He puts a hand to his forehead, trying to steady his last remaining nerve, and sets down the Arcane Egg on the counter before he gets giddy enough to drop it. "I didn't expect words from you after all this time! And you'd reveal this now? Pah! You really do get your kicks from shocking me!"

Lemm is speaking a little too fast. It's either excitement or anxiety. Hard to differentiate, currently.

"Fine! Yes. Fine. I'll take your name first, then. That's where we should start, isn't it? And then I'd like to know what in the name of reliquary pursuits is going on with... Ah. Actually."

Lemm waves away his other questions and, suddenly, remembers himself. His tone turns a little less frantic, and a little more serious.

"Actually I want to know this first. See I'd not be surprised or offended to hear I've made deals with bugs who wished I'd drop dead. But I suspect it'd be quite trivial for you to make it happen, so before we do any more business, I'd like to know my chances." What a way to put it.

[focusedvoid]

They rarely offer more than is expected of them. They do what they do on their own terms, whether or not they choose to go along with others' for a time. Lemm is the first to ask something enough they want to try.

Which is why his first serious query bites. It seems they genuinely have frightened or unbalanced him.

They try to respond quickly, though they're slowed in trying to remember the bases to cover. The last written contracts they'd been involved in were enough lifetimes ago the memory's fuzzy.

I have no quarrel with you. If you get in the way of the my larger form in a battle^orinpanic,it is possible you could be in danger. This is not likely. A Sib Shad Sibling on their own may lash out if afraid or attacked first, but walking away from them would be enough to settle them. They have no problems with you either. You aren't likely to encounter one like that at all either. Greenhorn is an exception and fond of listening to you.

I do not wish you harm or death.

Any brusqueness will not offend me into changing this. Any direct attack from you to me would be displeasing, but still wouldn't. You would not be the first to attempt killing me who I have since worked with. I will leave if either of us desires it.

I prefer the Knight. You can continue calling me whatever you wish.

For the record, Lemm
I greatly apologize for alarming you before. I didn't think of how terrifying w that might appear.

They slide the paper back to him, head perhaps a little hunched into their Wings.

[capitalcurator]

He'll be looming near enough the page to watch them write, following along from his upside-down perspective fairly well apart from when they go back and and make edits. It all gets a proper look over when they're done, anyway.

He shrinks back out of their airspace once he's done reading, hands perched on the edge of the counter as he thinks a few things over.

"Seems I've a lot to consider. Apology accepted, Knight," he begins, and doesn't offer one in return. "You've a lot of the littler ones with you, then. Thought I was being peeped at." ...He briefly mulls over the nickname that seems to have stuck. Something about this makes him feel all rot-warm on the inside, like decaying plants. Absolutely wrong. "Too bad. I run a shop, not a creche. Mind they're polite."

Relic Seeker Lemm slides the paper a bit closer towards himself and studies it some more, with the same slow patience as when he's interpreting languages that died with their speakers. He is trying to navigate the conversation properly now that it isn't so one-sided, and apparently he's finding it difficult, because he's already read the text three times and still he's hard-pushed to uphold his end.

"For the record, as you put it, I don't particularly want you dead either, not that I reckon I could manage it," is what he settles on. "You've been a reliable seller, and now I find you have ties to this place you're a veritable relic, yourself. You'll have no more trouble from me in any case." His voice keeps going of its own accord, though he wishes it wouldn't as soon as the words are out, even though they ought to be totally innocuous. "Hard to find research partners, you see."

[focusedvoid]

They were hardly expecting an apology, thankfully.

Yes, there are many siblings. They pat their paw against their mask a few times, trying to indicate as such. They can't give an actual number to express. They don't want to try.

They patiently sit as Lemm reads and rereads a few times. In the edge of their attention, Greenhorn's popped up. They don't know what a 'creche' is, but swears to the Knight they'll be polite. That means he doesn't mind them being around some more! Right? Right. But not right now. Not yet. It seems they'll have future chances.

In answer, they lightly bow and flourish the quill. (A little ink drips onto their now-settled Wings. They notice and don't care.) They're not ungrateful to know he shouldn't be holding too terrible a grudge.

[capitalcurator]

As he's not ungrateful that they keep coming back, though you wouldn't think it by the way he talks.

Lemm bows his head just slightly. It's the most polite he'll ever be. He slides the paper back into the middle and taps it with two fingers with an air of finality.

"Where to start, then..." he muses, glad to steer things back to the topic of scholarly interest. "What you are, I think. Void-selves, working interpretation of a collective noun, Pre-Hallownest arcane dialect... You're certainly not a bug. I've an important bridge to build with that."

[focusedvoid]

Something settles. A gnawing they hadn't given attention. Good.

They call Lemm's focus to their previous writing of 'I've only recently discovered most of what I am' with a sharp tap. Then they get to a little answering.

Not a bug. I was one a single being. I've been joined to countless others recently though the Void. I am made from the Void at the bottom of the world from hatching but not only that.
What do you know about
-Void (substance)
-the Pale King
-the Infection/Radiance/Moth Tribe

Asking this for easier explanation.

[capitalcurator]

Yes, yes, he's paying attention, he doesn't skip words, he's a Relic Seeker! Lemm gives a yep got it keep going sort of grunt and, once again, peers over to read as they write.

Ah. Yes. Ask the reclusive intellectual who loves the sound of his own voice to talk about what he knows, why don't you. He whisks another quill out of a drawer and uses the nib to do all the pointing, for better accuracy and to avoid smudging their ink.

First, at Void. "Very little. I didn't have a name for it until now - some things don't translate easily, but I like that term. The old places paid their respects to it, though. Nearly everything I know you've delivered to me in cryptic little spheres." A gesture at the partly-opened Arcane Egg. "You're something of it, yourself. Light falls into you like junk into the Waterways, don't think I haven't noticed."

The Pale King, then. He errs over this one for a long second. "We have to look at history through a difficult lens. I didn't live in Hallownest back then, so I can't have a proper grasp of the climate." He pauses to think again. How best to explain? Well, it's Lemm, so bluntly. "He's not around to have my head, so as a modern bug I can say I find his decisions questionable! He's behind the burying of much of the history here, and mark my words, no one buries the prettier bits. Maybe it'll be my luck to find out what the old monarch was hiding if I keep digging." He shakes his head quickly. "I wouldn't put that in an essay, though. Sounds bigheaded."

He squints at the page for a while. Infection, yes. The rest...

"There's... accounts," Lemm tells them, stiltedly. This he's not sure on. "Not many. Far as I know, Moth history leans towards word-of-mouth, which doesn't do a Relic Seeker any favours. I've... heard... that they worked with dreams. The plague addled the mind, and some likened that to dreaming." He twiddles the quill for a bit. His voice is a fraction hushed. "I thought I felt it once or twice. But we don't entertain subjectivity in this business. Spooked myself, more likely."

[focusedvoid]

'Junk into the waterways,' very poetic, Lemm. They definitely give him a shortly disgruntled stare for that one.

His mention of feeling something garners a much longer look, and a quick shake of the head. They can't know. They wouldn't be surprised.

They wave their paw from the Moth Tribe section up, partly going backwards in bullet points.

-Moth Tribe: tribe that worshipped the Radiance
-Radiance: Light, Higher Being ruler of Dream Realm
-Pale King: overtook her territory and supplanted her. Convinced the Tribe to forget her somehow(?) Radiance lost power, he took them and much of the surrounding area as Hallownest
-Infection: Evidence of Radiance was rediscovered? I do not know how. Enraged at being forgotten, created the Infection, spread through dreams into physicality
-Void: I do not know what the Void once was. The Pale King had theories and did experiments. Many were definitely incorrect. Took and used to create automaton guards and other machines.

The Pale King believed only Void could contain and erase/kill the Radiance. Not enough alone? Do not know earlier methods, do not care.

They underline that part to keep Lemm from possibly cutting in to theorize.

Needed a vessel 'hollow' and 'pure' enough not to dream but powerful enough not to be destroyed.

Created Godly offspring with the White Lady. Placed the eggs in the void in the Abyss to 'hollow' them.