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

[focusedvoid]

They could stay under the slight bit of roof's shelter, pull the paper out again, and detail the many times not looking where they were going got their mask shattered. They could insist Lemmm reassure them more.

Nodding tightly, they join him, staring out into the city.

They don't have to. He is fine. They're fine.

...The Belfly is a splotch on a path all the way down.

They take out their Nail and look it over a moment. It's kept itself clean as ever, but that really was a mess.

[capitalcurator]

He looks down at them, when he thinks they're reasonably fixed on their Nail.

...Likely they think him -

- Argh! No, not likely. That's cruel. To them. He knows better. Lemm's head snaps back to the muddle of dark Capital spires and he just stares for a while, thought utterly cut dead in its tracks.

He lifts his head to not catch his beard too much as he folds his arms on the railing, and leans. One leg ticks behind the other. Altogether casual and not a pose befitting a tense old Relic Seeker trying to look stoic.

He tries to think of something to say to fill the gap, and fails. Which is fine. As he's growing to understand, Vessels get away with it, and... should.

Lemm digs in his bag and tosses the saturated cleaning-cloth at the Knight's horns.

[focusedvoid]

They're on edge enough that it doesn't hit them, mothwing-dash back out of habit (tried and true for dodging actual Belfly threats).

Just as quick, they're back and plucking it from the film of water it landed in.

One of Lemm's cleaning cloths, obviously, and for their Nail, just as obviously, though they don't need it.

Something is a little odd about the texture. They squeeze it lightly between their claws. It's damp, but from something more than the water?

(While they know what it is, the idea of polish sails straight between their horns.)

They retreat to where the rain can't reach them so easily and start to clean.

...Lemm might get a somewhat-shredded cloth back.

[capitalcurator]

(No surprise that the chemical smell of the cleaning solution slips past the Knight. Except perhaps to Lemm, who hasn't made a fairly obvious connection yet.)

The cloth taking on a bit of rainwater is not a problem. The knowledge he has thrown something at the Knight again and made them dodge so suddenly has him a little unnerved, and guilty. Like their teasing, he hadn't meant it to land on their nerves.

Lemm ticks his back foot quietly against the floor while he waits, and watches the city with dim fondness. He'll wait for his friend to tidy their weapon - they're taking a break. Bugs do this sometimes when they're walking together.

Hm.

(They'll have to get his attention. It's very much occupied.)

[focusedvoid]

A break: another thing between their horns and out the back somewhere. They just figure Lemm is trying to be kind.

Belatedly, they realize the remains of the Belfly smell terrible. That could cling to their Nail. So that as well.

They clean it (significantly less well than their taller sibling would have) a couple times over, catching the edge of the blade.

After they unfold it, there's a long pause as they stare.

Walking back over to Lemm, they hold the cloth up with a smidge of embarrassment, and two snowflake-like patterns just off-center where they'd cut through.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm is lost in thought. His foot ticks regardless in some uneven and random patter against the floor. Like the rain, maybe.

They're only one floor up from the ground, and there's no vast, impressive spread across the city, but Lemm occupies himself with the view regardless. The songstress' mural, the distant gate with Fountain Square behind it.

The other way is blocked somewhat by the walkway, but he looks down, at the streets and the canal, and a Relic Seeker's imagination catches at him again.

...There is a cloth being held up at him. Lemm straightens, takes his hand off the balcony, and takes the cloth in finger and thumb, and then flutters-out the rest of it and angles it to the light to see the cuts.

He is trying not to look impressed.

"Must be a hard thing to keep clean, that nail," he remarks, with no small amount of respect. The cloth is swiped back into his bag, if only to avoid littering. "I've some metal solution back at the shop." That their sibling has had their hands in. Anyway, it's a similar offer.

[focusedvoid]

They shrug to both.

Before Hallownest, they'd cleaned their Nail sparingly. It cut well enough when they needed it, and they hadn't been taught specifics for quite some time. On the way to--back to Hallownest, they hadn't stopped for anything, much less useless supplies. In Hallownest, the blade didn't have time to dull between the times they visited the Nailsmith, and, ironically, the burning Infection kept much from coating it.

They take it out again, letting the falling water strike its surface with incredibly quiet tings.

Now, it seems so well-crafted and 'pure' that they haven't noticed much need.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm peers down at the Pure Nail, still curious about it even though he's been allowed to take a look at it before.

It really is a beautiful thing. The rainwater seems to follow the channels so smoothly he suspects he may be wrong about it being difficult to clean.

"You'd register a masterpiece here," he says, the information forthcoming without much thought. "In that room, in fact. It was considered the culmination of your career if you made something you'd never outdo again - the highest honour! ...Made all the greats a bit neurotic, if you ask me."

He deliberately doesn't stray onto the topic of the Nailsmith, though this does brush up against it rather closely.

"A Nail's as much a Hallownest staple as a Seal, if not more so. Culture comes and goes, but nails're in some of the oldest texts I have. How's that for lasting." A wistful sigh, and he tears his eyes away. "Wouldn't be shocked to find mention in an Arcane Egg."

[focusedvoid]

They Knight's gaze stays fixed on the blade, but they're listening closely. Always they listen, this just being highly fascinating. The look at the building's ringing history behind them nearly as much as Nail history. It goes further than they thought.

Nearly. They abruptly recall the cave of Nails had struck them still. The blades towered over them, but they knew what they were. (A part of them almost expecting that ancient figure to move--)

Lemm would like to know about that one.

They dash back into the building, tugging out papers. And the map. And Quick Slash.

Eventually we should visit an ancient cave at the Edge. They put a pin where they roughly remember where it is. Traversal would be difficult and I don't know what you might glean from it, but it seems pre-Hallownest and full of discarded Nails.

It might take him a few moments to come look the paper and map over, but they hold the Charm up for him to take for whenever he's finished.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm starts when they move so quickly, turning to watch in case they've just realised something dangerous - but no, when he comes to the door they're just writing. Very like them. Lemm comes in to join them with a faint, amused huff.

Their writing is inspected first. Ah, now they've emphasised ancient. Lemm's interest predictably skyrockets.

"I'd be amenable," he says, measuredly. Then checks himself - what's he being like that for? - and takes another pass. "Sounds fascinating in fact! Might give me some valuable context. You already know anything pre-Hallownest will get my attention, I suppose."

Perhaps it goes without saying that if anyone else suggested 'hey, there's something really interesting to you in a mysterious cave on the outskirts that's hard to get to or leave, follow me' he'd likely clock them with a journal and run.

Lemm flashes them a thoughtful look. "Makes me wish I knew more about weapons, sometimes, seeing your enthusiasm. Silly to wish you had advice to impart on an expert, though."

[focusedvoid]

Are they getting ahead of themselves?

On second thought, it's not important. Lemm is willing. A Charm held fresh in their paw makes urgency rise that they don't need to act on. They have time, and they nod their own enthusiasm back.

There are very few places that exist of that, but I know I've seen some. I found Quick Slash in it and had Nails, so I recall it best.

He's talking of history, but the Knight glances at his hand, trying to imagine it holding a Nail aloft. And then to his beard, which would trip him up and probably get sliced off.

[capitalcurator]

Now he takes the Charm, and it's with the caution he always takes with an antique. Charms are... somewhat of a different category, something a bit stranger than an inert object that only has a use in historical study. They have effects, they do things.

His thumbs trace the details, smoothing over the surfaces of the metal. The cloth is pulled out again, and its shredded appearance doesn't hinder a bit of careful work into the grooves where the Nail metal joins together. The charm is held up to the light of one of the few remaining lumaflies in the chandelier overhead, and turned slightly so that the edges glint.

"Not familiar with the way these things come together," he admits. "You'd think Charms part and parcel of a Relic Seeker's business, but they're elusive little things. Heard the stories of precious few, the rest don't come with context. Might be that's the way of it."

He flips it to see the fixing on the back, and then flips it again to rest flat on his fingers and offers it back.

"I'm sure I can guess, but for the sake of clarity, what's it do?"

[focusedvoid]

Headshake, slower from amusement. Of course he's going to clean it.

--And it's right he does, they decide. They never would've considered it, but they knew what it was the moment it was in their paws: a mess of Nails fused together, still longing to be wielded.

These are only pieces, impossible to use as a blade. But to treat them, shine them as one is meant to work on a weapon...

They take it back, considering. Increases the speed of Nail-strikes. 

They let it gleam in the city's light, as he did, and just as they did their Nail before.

I've been told Charms tend to be made from a bug's last wish/desire. There were a great many Nails in the cave's smithy(?) and Quick Slash was born from the discarded ones. It was very helpful to me, the Knight writes to Lemm, and to the distant, ancient being that helped create it.

[capitalcurator]

Yes, that's about what he expected. Sometimes the clue's in the name.

Thinking, Lemm runs a hand through his wet beard, leaving unintentional but distinct lines where he clawed through it and the damp hairs stuck together.

(...It really is quite long. The rain pulls it down more - maybe if he lived somewhere drier it wouldn't quite be scraping the floor, but he's in the City of Tears, so the floor is really doing a number on the ends even if he's careful to move with this in mind. All this to say the Knight is right in imagining it getting in the way were he to take up a nail. Good thing he's not the type.)

He gives a soft hm.

"As I understand it that's correct. Hard to look into. Not the sort of thing you do." Perhaps this says something, by itself. "A Charm's to be used. I'm not experienced in this, mind, but that's the impression I get, don't you? If I left behind some little piece of myself that still wanted something out of the world I don't think I'd want it stowed on a shelf."

A beat.

"Leaving for difference of opinion, of course, all Relic Seekers have one. But I wouldn't collect something that still wanted use. S'much better with someone like you, I think!"

[focusedvoid]

Absently, they nod.

It might outwardly look like they're staring at his beard.

They're thinking. They agree with Lemm, really, about the use of Charms. There are some they don't use and won't give, like the Shape of Unn, and many they still do, like this one. A few, though...

The Knight's claws run lightly up the blades' edges, gone dull by time.

[capitalcurator]

(He catches that, but barely consciously. A lot of bugs do find the beard distracting and it's barely on his register any more.)

More consciously, he catches them fussing at the charm.

The Knight seems to have a lot of gravity about this sort of thing, and about a lot of things. Lemm wonders sometimes what thoughts are passing behind their mask when they go still and quiet like this. (Quiet, as always, being relative.)

He shifts slightly in place and tries to say this in a quiet way, that doesn't interrupt.

"Maybe you'd show me a few, another time. You give the impression you have a few more."

[focusedvoid]

They gesture agreement, still motionless. Sorting through Charms internally, one-by-one. Are there any--

Ah, they should ask first.

Would you be opposed to taking one, should I find one more suited for yourself?

[capitalcurator]

It takes him an embarrassingly long moment to register what's being asked, still. Like in Ze'mer's mansion, it may take a fair while for him to get used to things being offered without caveat.

Lemm's stance shifts subtly, just tidying itself up a bit. Feet closer together, bearing slightly more upright. Polite, maybe, in some half-remembered way.

"No, no opposition to it. May have to turn my shop upside down to find that notch, though." He's increasingly sure he has one. Somewhere. Anyway, Lemm tilts his head slightly, in some very, very flat approximation of humour. "Wouldn't happen to have one that makes you good at talking to Moths, would you?"

[focusedvoid]

They shake their head exaggeratedly, tucking Quick Slash back away. They have time, but they do have a goal.

Unfortunately I have one two that would make it worse. The Dream Wielder was for the Dream Nail's holder specifically--passing it along would likely be read as an insult, and useless besides. Dreamshield is...not for anyone but a Moth. Seer didn't object to their wearing it, but best not to test.

...Hmm.

They produce Hiveblood. It looks like a longer, much larger piece of honey candy.

Heals wounds over time, without Soul use. It also keeps Hive denizens from seeing the bearer as an intruder.
I don't need this much now. I don't currently know if it's right for me to give, but borrowing it will be useful. It needs multiple Notches but I can share those temporarily.
I wonder if someone with a sense of taste/smell will notice anything?

[capitalcurator]

That's intriguing, but he thinks maybe it's not something he should ask about. The business with the Dream-related Charms is left alone. (For now.)

The Charm they take out... It does look like that. Lemm is momentarily reminded of the jar on his desk.

"Quite the will it must have, to cause something like that." Lemm reaches out - not to take, just to nudge a thumb over the crystalline surface, checking what the material feels like.

Lemm stares at the Hiveblood Charm, going still as he loses his focus in some private thought. When he comes back to himself it betrays nothing, and he gives a shrug.

"I don't plan on getting wounded. But I'll try it, if you'd like."

...Wait.

Lemm turns to stare at the Knight in obvious pause as several cogs snap together in his head at once.

"You don't -?" Obviously. Obviously now that he's addressing the subtler thoughts. So obviously. Lemm snaps the heel of his palm to his forehead and sighs, sharply. "That does put some things into context."

[focusedvoid]

I believe it came from Vespa herself. She wouldn't be opposed to my sharing it.
I don't know this, they hastily clarify, but I feel I'm correct.

It wasn't for them, either, they think, but the Hive Knight can't, and there is no Queen to protect. Leaving it hidden beneath her corpse seems a higher disrespect. And Lemm could use an extra layer of protection, unless he's got Soul ability he's kept secret for this long.

They're lightly startled from such thoughts, staring up before realizing Lemm's realization.

Both paws reach up to drum at the base of their mask, amused. No, see, nothing here.

[capitalcurator]

...Vespa... rings a bell. Less so than the Hive as a majority, just by the way bugs wrote their records and included what was on their mind. Either way Lemm can glean from context who that must be, and he nods.

"I'll lean on that, then. No sense second-guessing someone I've never met." It's acceptance, anyway, an agreement that he's content to borrow if they're content to lend.

...They are being obvious at him.

Lemm pulls a face and does some exaggerated head-flip eyeroll gesture, clearly caught out.

"Aye, aye! Well! Not all of us sense through our face, so you can put that smug look back where it came from!" He should have guessed, though. The biology doesn't add up no matter which way you look at it.

...Still.

"Urgh. Made a few blunders I think."

[focusedvoid]

Alright then; they reach up and thump their horns near the base as well. The noise that makes is heavier than their not-mouth area, but they're still clearly not anything but stationary things.

To that, though, they drop their paws and deliberately tilt their head. They aren't entirely sure what he means. Is this about the tea?

[capitalcurator]

Lemm gets what they're going for! Does it justify anything? No, apparently, because he looks put out and sweeps his hands down at the rest of him. He's known bugs to pick up some things through their feet. How should he know what a little scrubby wanderer picks up, or how!

...If he'd been paying better attention maybe he might. This is not helpful. He gives up and huffs.

Either way they look uncertain...

"Said a few things," he offers very unhelpfully. "If you couldn't pick up - never mind." Awkward as ever and just as stunted. What he is thinking of is the Knight coming in with the Defender's Crest, of the moment with the Bluggsac in Ze'mer's pantry, of other milder moments besides - it doesn't matter.

"Does me worse than others," he offers, instead. "Ready to move on?" Absolutely a deflection.

[focusedvoid]

If you've called me smelly, you were probably right and I likely wasn't hurt. Now they remember one--being kicked out of his shop early on had startled more than annoyed; it was obviously the Defender's charm, and a bench was safely nearby. He was pointing out honest displeasure.

But moving on is right. They nod and hop to the side, gesturing grandly for Lemm to take the lead again.