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: 2023-02-24 06:20 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Their surprise almost makes him backpedal and apologise for a curse word he's fairly sure they... can't know. Not why they reacted, he registers a second later.

Lemm looks down expecting them to write, but their pen just hovers. He eyes it intently, as if staring will magically let him in on whatever inner debate they're having. Predictably it does not.

When they pull away he follows the motion with his eyes and then blinks back to their face. Doubtless they noticed that he noticed. Which means they will also be aware that not saying anything about that is a choice.

(...He's already fallen into the trap of overdoing it once today.)

"We'll have to be careful, I expect," Lemm says instead of anything he really wants to. "The things we say around the Moth. How they're said."

Date: 2023-02-24 08:07 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
...Right. This is not a case of addressing a stranger over a crowded marketplace. There's politeness involved. That at least shouldn't be too hard; he remembers titles just fine, and names... He knows the names of other Relic Seekers, it's not memory that's the problem, it's just that he rarely bothers to ask.

But he doesn't know how to be careful, either. He's had some practice keeping his cool with the Knight, and with the Old Stag and Elderbug, but adding yet another person's social ins-and-outs to the list is daunting - he knows these will be different again. Dishearteningly, he is also going to have to get used to that.

Lemm tries not to look as stiff and uncomfortable as he feels.

"Think I'll just try not to say anything about the Radiance," he decides simply. "Ought to cut out a great lot of problems."

He tilts his head, then.

"...Have you written to her before?"

Date: 2023-02-25 07:42 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Ah, look at the two of them. Neither of them are feeling very good about this, mirrored images of dejection. For the Knight it's doubtful that it's just about the social aspect.

Lemm looks away after he's caught up with their words, thinking hard.

"Do - hm." False start. "You might write the gist of the problem out here, before we go," he suggests, "and then you can just hand it to her. Might save you some time."

This is a polite mitigation - it's not about time. What he means is it might save the Seer from witnessing any awkward crossings-out or backpedalling. Or accidental spilled opinions on the Radiance they would rather she not see.

The false start is revisited, carefully.

"D'you want... Urgh. Don't want to step on your voice, that's the trouble!" He sighs. "I can answer the simple stuff for you, if it's easier. Likely she'll have questions when she realises you chat back. Shadelord knows I did."
capitalcurator: (take off the defender's crest)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
"Prone to it myself - lists and appraisals and whatnot." Lemm is obviously pleased to have said something helpful, even if he tries to look aloof about it. "Keep it concise and get the important stuff down. If she needs a detail she'll have the sense to ask."

This is not so much a comment about the Seer specifically as it is about bugs in general. He may not be a people-person, but some things are common sense.

"If I'm not certain of the answer, I won't give one. I know well that some things are yours to explain." There. That's - why are they looking at him like that?

...Lemm is suddenly very aware of what he just said. It shows in the way he goes completely rigid, holding their stare. His expression goes stern.

"Now... Now don't!" he insists, pointing a finger at them. "It's convenient. Doesn't mean I'm turning pious!"

Date: 2023-02-26 10:21 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (take off the defender's crest)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Suitably embarrassed, Lemm takes his hand back and... shrinks back a bit, too, eyes narrowed and grumbling a faint, poorly-constructed complaint-or-excuse under his breath that cuts off before it goes anywhere. The Shadelord thing had been an accidental habit developing in his head - it certainly hadn't meant to slip out of his mouth.

Feeling rather agitated suddenly, Lemm slips out of his seat, leaves them to write, and starts rearranging the shelves in a huff.

"Be sure you leave in the part about the mining-bug being in Dirtmouth," he does say after a short while, gruffly and without turning around. "I don't know any more than you do but I'd let her know the girl's... in two. And in no danger. Physically." That they know of. Is he making any sense? Lemm isn't sure, and offers no further explanation because he doesn't have one.

An Arcane Egg is picked up, examined, and then carried across the room as Lemm disappears into the back.

Date: 2023-02-26 04:32 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (...)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He's just getting his bag ready and reminding himself of his own questions, that's all. At least that's his excuse, but really he just got the urge to hide. Taking their title for a turn of phrase? Out loud?

Lemm digs a piece of soft cloth out of a box and wraps the Arcane Egg in it, then takes up his bag and rearranges it until the bundle can rest safely on top of the usual contents. Then, already out of distractions, he sways forward a few inches to let his horn thunk gently against an overhead cupboard and just stands there with his eyes screwed shut. If only he'd just tripped over his own beard or something, that would be vastly less troublesome.

He's taking too long. He should -

- probably read that note on the floor, first.

...

The curtain is swept out of the way as Lemm emerges with his bag, actively looking at the note in his hand, and he wordlessly places it face-down on the counter by their side. Pats it, once.

"I'm not made of glass." Said gently, which should be telling enough that that sentence was code for something else. "How's the letter coming along?"

Date: 2023-02-26 05:37 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Lemm freezes, held in place by their words for a split second. Is that what it looked like-?

"You didn't." He is quick to clarify, and finishes his half-lap of the counter to return to his seat. The bag is gently set down on the floor beside. "I should be relieved it didn't insult you. A few Higher Beings wouldn't take so well to that kind of thing, I'd expect."

It is a struggle to get the meaning right, but he makes an attempt, because the Knight wouldn't be writing to him about it if there hadn't been a crossed wire somewhere.

"Never been the type to say things like that - surprised myself, didn't realise I'd done it. And to your face..." No, that's it, his face presses into his hands and he lets out an agitated little sigh at his inability to explain any further. "Urgh. Don't mind me, Knight. Go on."

He'll be spending a moment in the dark de-cringing, thank you.

Date: 2023-02-27 06:58 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (take off the defender's crest)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He hears the pen scratching - could be it's just them working on the letter, but it sounds a little to the left so he doubts it. He's going to have to pull his hands away sooner or later, so Lemm sharply reminds himself he's too old to be acting like a skittish teenager and emerges with a sigh.

It is good to know they're not insulted, but...

"No, no." Insistently Lemm waves this off. A beat, then he folds his arms tightly tucked against his front, and in a more candid way than he'd like: "Not used to it, I take a plain insult much better than I do teasing. Doesn't mean I... Doesn't mean a thing. S'fine."

Another little handwave. He would love to move on from this, but this obstacle has to be cleared, first. What if they never try that again?

"...Could get used to it, if it's well-meant."

Date: 2023-02-27 09:41 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He has been wishing the conversation would magically become something else since their little note was slipped under his curtain. They've done nothing wrong, it's just that... every step of acknowledging leaves him feeling yet more scrutinised. He wants to hide, he doesn't want to examine.

Lemm jumps at the chance to move on and spare both of them. Sharply and abruptly he nods, horn bobbing, then hops down out of his seat as they finish writing.

The appropriate answer is yes, that would be nice. What they get, because he is not that type of bug, is:

"I'll lock up."

Which is ostensibly the same thing.

Date: 2023-02-27 10:28 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
It is in part because they asked. There is something about knowing the Knight wants to - offered to - wants to walk with him, no need to second-guess, enough. Lemm swipes his bag from the floor and moves -

- Did he dislodge something in his eagerness to get up? Lemm turns back with the intent to gently stop whatever coin or badge or sigil it was before it spins to a halt, worrying that it might be something fragile, but - that isn't his.

The Knight cannot have simply not heard it. Fine. He's antsy, as well. It can sit there until they return for it. Lemm flaps a hand over his shoulder dismissively, like the gesture equivalent of talking to himself, and comes out to lock the door behind them both.

"There's a ground route through the north to east side of the Capital," he informs them, fumbling his key back into his bag. (They're with him. No need to stow the thing.) "Roundabout, for where we're headed." It's a suggestion, and toned as such.

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