focusedvoid: (shade of you)
[personal profile] focusedvoid posting in [community profile] boxfullofzeroes








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.

Date: 2022-11-12 05:56 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Relic Seeker Lemm has always been full of questions, but he's always been steadfast in the belief that directing those questions inward is a quick path to decay. He's been wrestling lately with a particularly difficult one, though, because he's come to realise he's got to examine himself before a certain... family does it for him.

So. Coward that he is, he has to ask the question: Does he make his exit however he can, and disentangle himself from the Knight and their siblings? He has to ask. Relic Seeker Lemm is not the family-and-friends type. He'll mess it up. He will mess it up. He's as convinced of this as he is that silk parchment and water should never be introduced to each other.

The answer comes... easily. It's a relief that it does.

The shop is a little different when the Knight enters next. It's been tidied, for one, though it seems unlikely to stay that way. A lot of the less relevant relics (and... curiously, any with sharp edges) have been sorted through and moved who-knows-where to make space, and that space is already beginning to clutter anew as more specific things are brought out for reference.

Lemm stands in front of the window, staring out with his arms folded.

"Don't step on anything," he sternly warns without turning around. "And don't get comfortable. I've an errand that needs running."
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
If they did, or if they passed through it, they'd see the square empty of the Soul Sanctum's broken glass and other things. Nasty business, sweeping rubbish into the Waterways, but it didn't take long. Nothing a void full of children should bother themselves with.

Relic Seeker Lemm seems acerbic as ever. The break apparently let him pull himself together as well.

"I'm down to my last quill, and I'm running out of things to write on. If I'm to tackle this properly I'll need more of both. I won't be finding anything usable down here." He glances down at the Knight, not that he expects to be able to read their mask any better than usual. "Last I was there, that dingy little town up above had little to speak of but a map shop. Lucky for me cartography uses the same tools."

It would take him no time at all to make the trip himself. It does not look like Lemm's packing a bag, though. He seems a little tense.
Edited Date: 2022-11-12 06:42 pm (UTC)

Date: 2022-11-13 09:46 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
A nod. And he's seen the other pins the last time he looked. It likely means there are more bugs in Dirtmouth these days. Lemm looks away and begins arranging his notes back and forth.

"That's the place. Although as long as I can keep writing I don't care where or how you get it. I'll give you back the Geo." And, just because: "I'd like one of those maps, too. I know the City well enough, but there are... expeditions I've been considering lately a bit further afield."

Date: 2022-11-13 11:15 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Lemm strokes his beard and thinks for a second.

"All of it," he decides. "There are a few places I won't be going, of course, but that's the point. And if you- never mind."

A very minor pause. Lemm returns to his desk, stepping around and over the mess on the floor.

"Be useful know who's up there as well," he gruffly tacks on just when it seems he's done.

Date: 2022-11-13 11:49 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (take off the defender's crest)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Lemm considers that first bit. It's not that he wants to give them more work to do than necessary, not when his instinct is to pay them for it. Then again it's their knowledge of Hallownest he'll be relying on most heavily.

He settles on a maybe: "I was going to borrow yours again and do it myself, but you'd be more familiar... I don't want you cluttering it with notes about things I won't find relevant, though. If you want that job, wait until you get back."

The next question gives him a lot more pause. He actually looks away for a second, fingers tapping on the counter while he struggles with admitting this is personal curiosity and not just taking stock of a possible supply run.

"...Whoever," he says unhelpfully, like he regrets asking in the first place. "And buy extra paper for yourself, while you're at it. Can't have you running out when you have something to say."

Date: 2022-11-13 12:50 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (you break it you bought it)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He's really got a habit of reading-while-they-write, in the same way someone does if they've never been told not to hover. (Maybe he has, and just paid no notice. Equally likely.)

"I know about him," he says, pointing at 'Elderbug'. "No adventurous spirit, that one-" backtracks one line, hands fly to his hips "- what do you mean rips off worse than me! You ungrateful little grub, Geo doesn't grow on trees! You've a fine mouth on you indeed, now that you're talkative!"

Urgh. And he's enabling them with the paper thing. Might as well have painted 'open season' on his own shell.

"...I'll have you back for that one, mark my words," he mutters poisonously, but he's already moving on. "Ah, now, that is a surprise. I'd not bothered with the Stagways on account of thinking they'd be empty by now. Even walked one or two myself! That does change things. I won't be walking on the roads if there's still a Stag hurtling about." Doesn't change things enough to go and run his own errands, though. He follows the rest of the writing and sits back a little.

"Sounds like it's gotten busy up there. This Zote fellow sounds unpleasant." He tries to make it sound innocuous: "No one else?"

Date: 2022-11-13 07:46 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He even takes a breath like he's about to tackle the Shade thing, but he stops himself in time. They just keep catching him in the act of asking too much, and for whatever reason Lemm doesn't seem to be pushing. He just gives a resigned sideways tip of his horns in acknowledgement and moves on.

Everything about the Grimm Troupe gives him pause. He has to re-read the information a solid couple of times before he feels like he's parsing the sentence correctly, and then he sits back and frowns while he tries to make proper sense of it.

"A circus that visits dead kingdoms... Seems against the point, if not for the Ritual part. I'm sure there's a reason there I'm not seeing." He shakes his head, managing this revelation remarkably well. "But I won't be going. I'm not a fan of theatre." Or crowds - or Higher Beings, especially lately. "If the leader has business with you, just mind it's not running off to join up. You and I have work to do."

He's fiddling with a spent quill. When did that happen.

"You've a lot of contacts, it seems," he remarks offhandedly.
Edited Date: 2022-11-13 07:47 pm (UTC)

Date: 2022-11-13 08:21 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Lemm scoffs.

"Well! Kept your literacy a neat little secret from me, didn't you! I thought the same until recently, Knight, you aren't forthcoming." Oh, he's not ashamed to admit it, even if he should be. It was a comforting thought that his conversation was one-sided! To pretend he's more tactful than that would be to pave the way for a letdown.

"But now you've exposed yourself as a rude little chatterbox. Don't expect any reprieve from me. 'Rip-off'. My shell."

They've as good as said other bugs don't know them as well. That selfish little voice in his head is a tiny bit prideful about that.

Date: 2022-11-14 09:49 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
The horrid warm feeling is back like he's spent too much time taking in the air at the Fungal Wastes, and Lemm physically leans away a bit from their gesture.

"It's hardly luck if I'm to be subjected to your petty insults from now on. No, I've got no further tasks for you. Don't forget your own writing materials. And a receipt."

They won't be getting any rise out of him! Or validation, if that's what they're looking for. Maybe not, and maybe the bow was sarcastic.

...Still...

"You know what kinds of questions you'll be answering when you come back here, but I won't be going anywhere. Take your time up there."
Edited Date: 2022-11-14 09:49 am (UTC)

Date: 2022-11-14 05:05 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
After the Knight's gone, it isn't long before there's a sign up on the shop door and its owner has gone walkabout again.

It's been a long while since Lemm came this way, but he has questions he's not certain can be answered anywhere else - that and he's running out of paper, so he might as well get some of the practical stuff done in the meantime. He contemplates ringing the Stag bell just to see if the Knight was really right about there being one still running - but it's not far to where he's headed, and he's still feeling a little flighty at the prospect of making conversation, so he instead heads up through the Royal Quarter and takes the lift to the Resting Grounds.

Relic Seeker Lemm finds the Dreamers' memorial without much trouble. From the bag he's brought with him he pulls the Knight's notes (and a stolen borrowed Royal Quarter Lumafly bulb), and he compares the names just to be sure. He's seen those masks, back when he first made the hassle of a pilgrimage down to the city (the Temple of the Black Egg had been such a draw back then!). Lurien's name, too, he became familiar with as he picked through the old ruins. Herrah and Monomon... not as much, but maybe he would know more if the city never switched to silk for so much of its written records. Bane of his existence.

Now I wonder if that was a conscious choice. How much did you want lost to time, I wonder? Obviously not all of it.

He moves on. Now that he's actively looking for it, it isn't too long before he's seeing it everywhere: the little flower-like motif of the Moth Tribe, woven into charms and hung through passageways and sometimes carved into graves or wrought into the fences. He knew they were caretakers of the graves here from his own readings, and he'd always heard rumour they delved into dreams. Now he knows to withhold his skepticism, the Resting Grounds are that much more eerie.

Lemm is not afraid of the dark or the dead, though. He studies the symbol and counts the points and copies down a couple of variations on the very edges of the Knight's note papers.

(He stops off at the Pleasure House on his way back when he finds it unlocked, if only to take a dip to clean off. There is... an encounter there. Lemm comes away in a foul mood despite the relaxation he went in for.)

From then, he'll stay home until the Knight returns, organising relics into categories and spending the last of his paper on the Arcane Egg.

Date: 2022-11-14 06:36 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (take off the defender's crest)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He's already reaching for the till when they enter, though when there's a drawing waved in his face he pauses long enough to squint at it and then shakes his head, looking peeved.

"None like that down here as far as I've seen. Just a rotten toll collector over in the fop district, now." The words come out with a sizeable serving of venom, and he huffs in disgust. "No, no one like that. Friend of yours wandered off, did they?"

Lemm's first order of business is scrutinising the receipt for everything that's owed. He covers the paper the Knight bought for themselves, whether or not they brought a receipt for that - he can work it out, either way it's factored into the bill. Another neat little sum of Geo is squared away on the counter for them. He did say he'd cover it all.

Though there's one thing missing and that's still the payment for the writing earlier. Lemm is still trying to weigh the ethics of that one versus his dwindling Geo savings. The till tray stays open until he's settled on a number.

While he thinks about that, his fingers clink lightly through the pins, and he picks a couple up for examination with an oddly appreciative air.

Date: 2022-11-14 07:15 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
While he waits for them to write, Lemm idly pins one to a piece of paper just to see how it looks. Good, is the result, judging by his lingering glance when he lifts the sheet up to the light. He's momentarily too distracted to hover.

"She has a reputation! Urgh, so she was fibbing!" he snaps, and taps another pin against the counter for emphasis. "That jealous hardshell, she's enough to make me want to go knocking on doors! No, you can leave the neighbourly grudges to me. There can be one rip-off in this city if there's any at all."

He does take a second to study the little drawing again, and then re-reads the name.

"Myla. I'll remember," he's about to be harsh, "but bugs disappear all the time in Hallownest. Even the settled ones." Ah. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Lemm watches hard for their reaction.

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