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]

"The Soul Sanctum might have something on spell branding, even I'd think the... old King's a bit outside of their scope. No harm in looking."

Soul spell nonsense as they put it has always been a bit... dense. Never seemed to make much sense or come together into something he fully understood. He'd try anyway.

"Would you miss it?"

[focusedvoid]

A sensible suggestion.

Their paw flexes.

They don't care for it, still. They've gained enough from the Sanctum already, practical in harvesting the Soul drained from the bugs stolen from their lives. They don't need anything more from that place.

...They don't want to need anything more from that place. If it becomes a problem, then the Knight can swallow their pride.

No. It's a tool as a key is, and one I believe it's done most of what's necessary. I only have concern over where it might go, and who would recognize it. Most don't, but some have. Emilitia noticed a difference.

I don't know if it would go, to Hornet, to my sibling, even to Emilitia or another Hallownest citizen, or back to the Wyrm's collapsed corpse. I wouldn't care if I dropped it, and isn't too terrible to hold now. I've overcome worse complications.

[capitalcurator]

By the way they've phrased it - drop, hold, complications - they don't want it at all. He has suspected as much for a while.

Now is probably not the time to address that, if he wants to keep things light. But he can probably offer something nonetheless. A little light sarcasm to smooth things back out, first.

"Oh, well, if Emilitia noticed it! Yes, give it to her, and let's see what wins out: her ego, or her Pale King favouritism. If we're terribly lucky she'll just sit there praising herself for all time." You know, so... more of the same. (He has met her once. And once was enough.)

He's not saying a lot here, but it serves as good enough noise distraction that he's brave enough to reach out and gently pat their branded paw - a bit like one might encourage a friend to lower their Nail. They don't have to worry about this for now. Sorry he brought it up.

"No, it's safest with you, I suppose."

[focusedvoid]

That's a horrible, amusing idea. Praise herself, and then likely get herself skewered by Hornet or Herrah should they ever meet, and then where would things be? (Probably not significantly worse.)

They curl their paw to catch his fingers for a moment. The Brand is a slightly more solid scar against their softer shell.

[capitalcurator]

He stills. It's not a flinch, nothing so dramatic this time, it's just...

Maybe it will always take him a little by surprise. Despite this he doesn't deliberate much over taking their paw properly and giving it a reciprocal little squeeze. His thumb smooths lightly over the Brand, acknowledging it without any fanfare about what it is, and then he lets go.

They have some nerve, turning Relic Seeker Lemm soft like this.

"You really don't mind all that, do you?"

[focusedvoid]

The King's Brand? They're not certain if that's what he means, or the holding of hands, and they're...wary of asking elaboration, if it could be the second. They're fond of being able to, and there's some dread that giving more attention could ruin it.

The King's Brand they're handling despite frustration. The hand-holding, minding comes nowhere near the truth.

In either case, answering through a dip of the head is honesty enough.

[capitalcurator]

"...Good. Well, nor do I." Lemm gives a quiet half-laugh (nervous, but cheerful), fidgets with his bag, and does not elaborate. If his awkwardness doesn't clue them in to what he was really asking, they'll have to settle for it. A nod is good enough for him regardless.

He feels it's a companionable quiet as they work their way through the rest of the Grey Mansion, although Lemm occasionally pipes up with some remembered detail about Hallownest culture or an extrapolation of how Ze'mer might have spent her time. There are signs here and there that her earlier life was not spent in quite the same solitude as after her mantis lover was gone - sitting areas for more than just one, decoration that must have been gifted, more paintings of the Knights and the wider court.

Whether it's just for historical interest or not is not quite clear, but Lemm seems keen that her life be remembered.

[focusedvoid]

So nerves are shared, if not for precisely the same reason. Lemm's the one who brought it up, after all. Or, for this, he's simply braver than they.

Whatever the reason, they follow him closely, occasionally reaching to tap the edge of his shell and gesture to things they believe might lead to interesting results, or related to the other Great Knights.

At one point they wander through a kitchen and find a pair of treats--a bluggsac (somewhat less orange now) with a rancid egg beneath the open sink, and a jar of genuine honey candy, helpfully labelled as such in oversized text. They offer Lemm the latter.

[capitalcurator]

He wouldn't pay half as much notice to a fellow Relic Seeker. It's not so much about the knowledge the Knight might have as it is about just exploring alongside them, and seeing what interests them. Whenever they look for his attention, they find it immediately. He's clearly enjoying the company as much as he's enjoying the learning.

Well, he was.

"You cannot seriously be taking that. No, don't - urgh!"

Lemm finds himself taking a jar of orange-yellow candy, distractedly staring at a similarly-coloured-but-oh-so-nasty bluggsac and trying very hard not to make comparisons. His mind is not particularly helpful in this regard.

"I can't imagine what possible reason you'd want that thing, but keep it far away from me!" Lemm shakes his head free of unpleasant thoughts so that he can react properly. "I'm not much for sweets, but these... should still be good. Honey keeps, doesn't it? As long as the lid was closed tight - ah-?" What is that. Why are his fingers sticky oh no. Noooooo.

Lemm sets the jar clumsily on a counter and frantically casts about for something to wipe his hands on. An old washcloth is scrunched irritably at his hands and then wiped around the jar - then flung at the Knight's face.

...He still takes the jar, even if the action is accompanied by an accusatory glare at the Knight. This might be telling.

[focusedvoid]

The washcloth flies true. It genuinely catches the Knight off guard, and it would've cost them a crack in their mask if it was something dangerous. Instead, they suffer only embarrassment as it slaps them directly across the eyes.

So. They might not've thought that completely through.

They pluck it off and halfheartedly toss it at his torso. It doesn't even make it all the way before unfurling and flopping sadly to the floor.

...And then they bend down to wipe their own claws off a bit before they write.

My apologies. I forgot how disgusting that is.

[capitalcurator]

He relents as soon as he sees them writing. Maybe he's overreacting a bit. Maybe.

Also, he is still holding the jar, which... they did give to him. Can't forget that.

A sigh. Lemm shakes his head and flaps a hand at the Knight, waving off the apology note. "Never mind. I forgot these things don't seem to bother you! Unflappable unless I'm there to complain, it seems." ... That does put a spin on it, actually. Lemm's annoyance turns to amusement at least a bit. "Doesn't that say something."

Mindful that his hands are an acceptable level of clean, Lemm unscrews the lid of the jar and inspects a piece of the candy.

"Anyway these certainly smell better than that thing." A light cough. "Er, I didn't - did I? ...No, I don't think I did. Thank you," he offers them, sheepish. He looks like he wants to offer them one, but they have already told him they don't eat, so he just kind of stares at it for a moment. "Do you - have other friends who might-?"

[focusedvoid]

What does that say, but how he can truly bring out the worst in them. Or perhaps the best. The most.

A brief pause of consideration before they dismiss the thought with a wave. Technically, yes, others might like it, but they gave that to Lemm. And even if they hadn't, they're feeling the slightest bit bad. The disgusting mess was a genuine mistake.

Besides, they can probably procure some from the Hive now that they've been reminded of honey being edible.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm dips his head in recognition. Fine, then. His. Like the quill. For free, or else for the admittedly low price of getting a bit of gunk on his hands. Which he can accept, contrary to his momentary flip-out. He's honestly a bit surprised he managed to bean the Knight with a cloth at all.

...Because their guard is down, perhaps...? Ugh, Lemm will examine that later.

The jar is re-sealed and tucked into his bag with a betraying level of care, clinking lightly against his tools and the other piece of glassware. He will try some when he's home and there's no one to watch.

Lemm peers about the kitchen to satisfy his remaining curiosity. There's evidence of more decay here and there, but there's little beneath except for what he already knows: that Ze'mer was given privileges beyond most in Hallownest. Eventually he returns from investigating a dusty cupboard, looking mildly triumphant and stowing a small container of silverware polish in his bag.

He is reluctant to address this, but nothing can last forever.

"I think we may be able to conclude this visit, unless there's something you'd like to do first...?"

[focusedvoid]

The resolve to find him more gifts later. Maybe more candy, if they can find it. Or continue with something that catches their eye. Lemm should have more gifts. They should try to get into his back room again and see what he doesn't have back there.

This on their mind, they stop their steps-behind shadowing by Lemm's side, staring thoughtfully at his bag.

The trip's been a success of multiple sorts. They can always do it again, to here or somewhere else. He and they have made enough promises to be careful; some of the itch of worry in the back of their mask has finally lessened.

I'd like to try prying one of those Delicate Flower lights/frames from by the greenhouse for us. Is this acceptable?

[capitalcurator]

His bag is full enough of stuff. The problem:

Lemm has found little that would interest the Knight, but then he doesn't know them well enough to know what would. They don't eat, they don't sleep on anything he can easily give them (yes, he noticed) - they don't like to see things defaced (perhaps for different reasons than he does, which makes that a dangerous avenue) - they don't need anything he can glean from Ze'mer's old life. All he has been able to offer is chatter. Far less than enough to make him comfortable after a life built of transactions.

(But it's been - productive? Yes, but not in this context. It's been nice. It has been nice.)

Lemm glances at them half-aware, then quickly shakes himself into reading.

"Ah?" The - oh! Those. Lemm feels a pang of something that is familiar: wanting to have things. He finds himself calculating the Geo and instantly dismisses the numbers. Not today.

I take what I want and don't care if you do too. It's fine. Probably.

"Hrm." Another pause, but mostly superficial. And, very cautiously: "Yes..."

[focusedvoid]

...That's a very uncertain-sounding yes; particularly coming from Lemm.

So they simply pause in the center of the kitchen to eye him for elaboration. If he thinks it foolish or unnecessary, they won't.

[capitalcurator]

He waits.

...

But left to their own devices in a silence, people tend to say what's on their mind. No doubt the Knight is more familiar with this phenomenon than most. Eventually he's compelled to say something.

"It wouldn't bother you, would it?" He's never had to worry about that before.

[focusedvoid]

The Knight slowly shakes their head. They're...somewhat confused by this.

I wouldn't have asked if it were a problem. I thought we both might like to bring at least one out. They run a claw under the 'us' from the previous line. If possible without destroying them, which it might not be.

[capitalcurator]

There is a fine line between looting and... whatever this is. Looting still, perhaps. But he wants the damn sconce, and Ze'mer is gone. And if they're clarifying they're not judging-?

Lemm sticks his hands on his sides, summoning enough confidence in his career to say yes, of course he'd like to take a historically-relevant light holder that he can remember a Great Knight by. (And have her remembered by, if he happens to record anything about those flowers.)

"Then it isn't a problem. Yes, I'd take one. I'll clean up both, if you'd like."

[focusedvoid]

Positions made clear, the Knight nods decisively. Two to pry from the wall, if possible.

They trot past Lemm to lead the way, briefly patting his wrist first. Hand-holding through the house wouldn't be practical.

Even more than the sconces, the picture of their sibling by the stairs hasn't been forgotten. When they make it there, they stop and pull it from its place without letting themselves think too much.

Their eyes still catch the unseeing set staring up, almost, not quite meeting theirs.

The emotions that swirl compared to the image's discovery are duller, but still there. They'll...they suppose they will put this on the wall of their house. If they don't keep it tucked away with the rest of their items. They have yet to decide.

[capitalcurator]

(It wouldn't be practical, no. He catches at his own arm afterward, unrelatedly.)

He's quick and confident when he follows, but their pause has him step back a pace or two to allow them some space. If they hadn't taken the picture, he'd considered sneaking it out. It should be rescued from here, he'd thought at the time.

It doesn't matter now; they should be the one to have it, and one way or another he thinks he'd have made sure. Lemm watches the way they linger over it. And he clears his throat, and settles a hand firmly on their shoulder.

"Stash it upright," he advises. "Nowhere too damp nor too dry. Light above ground'll fade it, if it's too direct."

Lemm does not have a better language to say this is important.

[focusedvoid]

They jump slightly. It's too easy to be lost in the hardly-distant past.

Sharp nod. The sentiment is understood enough. He cares for them and their emotions, or for the history of this picture, or some concept of the little one in this image. The advice is good no matter the case or cases. They'll do their absolute best to follow it.

It disappears under their wings, and they refocus on the task at hand.

The melancholy is shaken off well before they're staring back up at the sconces.

Now, how to remove them without significant destruction...they reach up to tap the tip of their blade where the metal meets the wall, testing how flimsy it is.

[capitalcurator]

He nods curtly at their decision and follows like a shadow, like he's getting used to doing when they - the they, plural are moving with intent, together.

...On the wall-fittings, too, he has some experience to share. Never mind how he learned it.

He draws close to the sconce they're examining and, unbothered by their Nail, taps a finger at the corner of the fitting and instructs accordingly.

"Metal pins, I'd think, with this design. Pry the edges one by one. Careful."

[focusedvoid]

They nod their thanks. And pry with their Nail, naturally. The tip is fine to a degree that actually works, and their control enough to keep from simply slipping or ripping the whole thing down.

The lumafly that still survives within causes slight distraction. The Knight doesn't do any damage from it, but must briefly stop to admire how the light catches the edges of the Nail's patterns sticking from behind the flower's shape.

[capitalcurator]

He would demand speed, if this were a team someone else organised, if it were a circumstance where someone else had any hold on how things went. It's not. Lemm feels a bit like the overseer. Mostly, not.

He just hangs back, content with however they opt to proceed. It's a bit endearing that they'd pause to look at the way it gleams.

They have time. Lemm has absolutely no intent to rush them.

(Some might describe the way he watches as affectionate. Lemm would likely start an argument over this.)