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: 2022-12-21 10:49 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Yes, he's sure! Relic Seeker Lemm has not lived a life without paranoia. He instinctively wants to snap-!

...He does not. He takes a breath and scratches his beard and acts casual.

"Yes, I'm certain. Who's here, and what would they take that would be worth the trip to sell it?"

Lemm is honestly relieved there was no confusion over this. He'd have had to explain.

"My shop's no Pleasure House. But if you're dragging your wet little self through the City I might as well let you another space to dry off. I hope I'm understood."

Date: 2022-12-21 11:16 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
The bow is acknowledged with a curt, shy nod.

He knows they weren't lying. Right now this is all he's got in terms of... expressing. The two of them are really not too different in some ways. That's why it's easier.

"...Yes," he replies eventually, once they finish the long pause and dot the last word. "Well, then." Awkward. Or not. It depends how they take the ensuing quiet.

He knocks the elevator lever with a fist.

Lemm will quietly stick his hand behind the sign and rap the crossbar where it's fixed to the wall, addressing them with that silent information. Then it's business as usual, if anything with them is usual.

He checks in, casts a close look around, and retreats to lean backwards against the front of the counter. (Still covered with a mess of game-board and game pieces and ink and papers.) Lemm folds his arms.

"Have you things to attend to?"

Date: 2022-12-21 11:56 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
That is all it is. He would have offered a stay more clearly, but he knows they have a wider life to attend to and Lemm has no intent for them to stick around in the City. He nods firmly.

"I'd appreciate whatever you find, but Great Knight Ze'mer is information enough. I got far more than that today..."

He helplessly trails off into a noticeably weaker tone as they pat his shoulder, eyeing the contact sidelong.

Lemm is quick to rally, and rolls his shoulders curtly. (He is not shrugging them off, but he needs to remind himself to stay centred.)

"Good luck."

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