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: 2022-12-24 06:44 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (...)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Yes. Yes, it's fine, it's working, he almost breathes a silent sigh of relief but -

Lemm puts his weight on his back foot, but does not step back. That would make a noise. He does not want her to look at him.

Quick, then, quickly find something to work with. His thumbs run back and forth over the grooves of the journal's heavier text.

He doesn't know. The records did not - he can't lie fast enough -

"A Relic Seeker," he tells her. "I'm tasked with knowing, you see." He's nervous. She could panic. May well panic. He promised to guard her. Lemm steps a little closer to the couch, despite everything. "What was that you just sai- sang? Did you sing?"

Date: 2022-12-24 08:07 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (...)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Lemm moves a bit nearer as she tries to lift herself, mind racing. He was left little instruction and he feels he needs so much now that she's not just a shape on a couch-! But it occurs to him in time that the Knight had no solid advice to offer. They are perhaps both as inexperienced as each other. It's up to him to try to handle this, so that the Knight is not compelled to run ragged.

"...I'll take your lyrics, then," he insists. Perhaps she's seeing things. He'd better take her mind off that. "Never mind who's looking. You're right. No one ought to be alone in the dark. What's this about a crown?"

Date: 2022-12-24 09:44 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
During her quiet moment Lemm hovers, just a bit. He isn't sure what to do but what he claimed he was doing - recording. Playing the role of scholar is much easier than pretending to be someone else, and perhaps that's the best choice for someone as confused as Myla. He takes down the song as he said he would, making sure she sees him listening. And he listens, properly.

Halfway through, the Knight returns. Lemm is slow to look aside, and picks his moment when Myla is especially distracted, in case she sees his attention on something else and stops.

(That one is staring daggers at him. He has no room in this rare situation to glare any daggers back, and so Lemm just holds her gaze. His head dips slightly to the side, a half-acknowledgement. And she is gone.)

His head flicks down to check on the Knight...

Ah. It did not go well, he thinks.

Lemm will give them a moment. He takes down the last few shaky pieces of Myla's song, keeping half an eye on the Knight as he tries to keep up the appearance of being Myla's audience. (Not just the appearance. His transcription is accurate; nothing is just for show.)

Date: 2022-12-25 02:53 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (...)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He does not need to look at the paper to keep writing, and right now his attention is split between Myla and the Knight, pen scratching down lyrics as he watches the Knight furnish the place a bit.

(He is reminded, not so unkindly, of his earliest times in the City. He loathes the word scavenger, but the shop had not been his then. The back room even less. The emptiness felt cold and impersonal until he took what no one was left to use. ...Maybe he should consider helping in that regard. Later.)

His pen stutters to a halt as Myla's song drops off, and Lemm remembers himself.

"Ah... It's time to eat, Myla," he tries, trying to keep his voice soft. The room feels so quiet now. "Our friend has brought you something. I'll not trouble you for now." As if it was his idea to stop.

He folds the paper and stows it with his things, dipping his horns at the Knight in uneasy greeting.

Date: 2022-12-25 08:38 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (...)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He fidgets, looking a little vacant. He's uncomfortable with this, with being here, while she is cared for. The Knight is his friend, but Myla is a stranger; it feels too intimate to stay and watch. Maybe he will go and...

...Iselda's warning glare rises to the forefront of his thoughts. He isn't sure quite what she expects of him, but wandering out and being seen to be unhelpful will not earn him any points there. Lemm imagines being scolded, and how easily he'd turn that into a shouting match on the street.

He abruptly shakes his head. Best to be unhelpful out of sight, at least for a little while. He trudges quietly over to the table and takes off his bag, seating himself where they indicated.

"I'll stay a bit longer if it's all the same to you." She seems to be awake for the moment, so Lemm doesn't return to writing just yet. He is careful to keep his voice low regardless. The last thing he wants is to spook her. "Steady."

This is added as an afterthought, and he indicates to their shaky-looking paws with an encouraging nod.

Date: 2022-12-25 12:36 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
In the meantime, Lemm figures his best bet is minding his own business. The journal he brought is taken out again to pass the time, and to distract him from looking up. He doesn't reckon the Knight would appreciate it; something tells him Myla deserves a little more dignity than to be watched while she eats.

Staying at the Knight's side feels like the correct course at least for a little while, but this does not magically tell him how to act in their home. He could be overstaying his welcome for all he knows. But surely they'd tell him... (Will you be staying long? Would you like to go run errands now? Had they been not-so-subtle hints? But he's loath to go anywhere with them shaking like that.)

It is a little while before he registers he's stopped reading altogether, staring at the journal without really seeing it. The smell of home cooking is permeating.

The Knight can be as modest or oblivious as they must, but bugs up here really like them. Elderbug had praise for them, and Cornifer the same. His wife seemed just as invested in her own way.

Lemm gives up on the journal and sets it down on the table with a quiet sigh. He rests his chin on his hands, and he lets his thoughts wander.

Date: 2022-12-25 01:40 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
(He does not know what she's been like, and it does not cross his mind yet that her little musical session may have been unusual. As far as Lemm is concerned, it just wasn't a disaster, and that's all there is to consider.)

...The shop always smells a little damp. It didn't register at the time, but now he thinks back to it, Cornifer being in his shop as a friend of the Knight (and not as a passer-by) and looking around like that... It's only from the memory of it, but he feels strangely scrutinised. Maybe he should use the stove more for proper reasons, stop leaning so much on foraging and curing. Might make the shop smell less like damp, if nothing else.

The sound of Myla's voice shakes him out of his thoughts, and it takes everything he has not to snap up and look in her direction. His stare is aimed squarely down at the table instead.

It's only when things go totally quiet again that Lemm feels it's appropriate to look up again, and only to give the Knight a short, evaluative look to see how they're faring. It must be difficult. Even he knows that.

Date: 2022-12-25 02:00 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
...Lemm takes it they need a moment.

He turns back to the table and the abandoned journal, gazing vacantly down and folding his arms against the cool surface.

Eventually he digs Myla's transcription back out and reads it back over. He hadn't realised his nerves had bled into his handwriting so much, but they're legible, if a little rushed here and there.

He'll just... busy himself reading that. The Knight can kick him out decide what to do with him when they're ready.

Date: 2022-12-25 02:31 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (...)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He glances up when he catches movement to meet their unsettled little greeting, and raises a hand from the paper at them in response. He stops hovering over the page and sets it down to give them his proper attention.

There is a brief glance over at Myla, judging whether or not it's appropriate to keep speaking or switch back to notes. With the way she just doesn't seem compelled to look at anything it's hard to tell whether she's asleep or just resting her eyes. Lemm opts for a very soft tone, and keeps it short. Testing the waters. If the Knight gives the sign, his hand is already toying with his quill.

"I am," he agrees. "You haven't looked well." Softly said, but blunt as ever. "Go ahead. I'll stay. Will you be seeing her?" He flicks his horn in the direction of the soup pot.

Date: 2022-12-25 04:18 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
"Anyone can see they wouldn't mind, Knight." He doesn't have to be personally familiar with that sentiment to see it. The two he's spoken to have almost told him as much, just by the way they've talked about the Knight.

Conflicted, he glances at the door.

"I've little reason to hurry back, either. You... take care. I'll be here."

Date: 2022-12-25 05:59 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Lemm takes to pacing.

He's not as desperate for a walk as he could be, considering he's shut into someone else's space and anxious and there's nothing physically keeping him here but his own conscience. A little restless, maybe.

But in all honesty he wants to stay.

In Hallownest, as well. No matter who moves in or how it changes, and he is sure now that it will. He might be able to tolerate neighbours. Learn to, at least. If mistakes are... if they're allowed, if he's allowed to make those. And often.

(He refuses to make a mistake here! Every other moment is spent restlessly checking on Myla. She seems like a nice girl, not that he knows her outside of half-present delirium. She must be if the Knight cares so much.)

When the Knight returns Lemm is by a window, the curtain pulled just enough to gaze out at Dirtmouth. He drops it back into place when he hears the door and hurries to meet them halfway, fidgeting with his hands.

He doesn't know exactly why he does this, or what to say when he's within murmuring distance.

"Um. She's been quiet," he reports, for lack of anything else. "Peaceful I think. Did it go well?"

Date: 2022-12-25 08:40 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (take off the defender's crest)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
(...His eyes flick to Grimmchild by accident and quickly away again, but ah. They were definitely looking right at him. Stay on track...)

It'd be too easy to think them silly for not delegating earlier, but he is thinly aware he wouldn't have thought to do it either. It would be hypocritical to judge. The progress gets an approving nod.

"...What?"

Oh, that. Their mind really does meander all over the place. Lemm is quick to shake his head, almost frantic.

"I don't care about that -" He catches himself about to verge up in volume because he's trying to insist, and hurriedly reminds himself to stay at a murmur. "Didn't cross my mind, I mean..."

The Knight is treated to watching the gears grind in his head as he gives a light huff and folds his arms, trying to produce a good way of expressing himself without coming across as standoffish. He taps a finger on his arm.

"...Right now I care far more that you stop burning the candle at both ends," he explains quietly. That'll do. "What's next?"

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-25 09:11 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-25 09:40 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-25 10:01 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-25 10:19 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-25 10:36 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-25 11:04 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-25 11:44 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-25 11:56 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-26 01:58 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-26 08:32 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-26 09:14 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-26 10:01 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-26 10:44 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-26 11:56 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-26 04:21 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-26 07:15 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-26 08:33 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-27 08:28 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-27 10:26 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] capitalcurator - Date: 2022-12-27 09:04 pm (UTC) - Expand

Profile

boxfullofzeroes: (Default)
B0X

April 2025

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
27 282930   

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 11th, 2025 01:48 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios