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]

Does Seer know? The Knight doen't understand what he means. But he's distressed. Distressed for them, distressed like them.

After a long moment of stillness, they tip, slowly, until they're pressed against his side.

Lemm doesn't need to be sorry.

I left. I hope that's answer enough.

[capitalcurator]

He flinches - because he's already tense, not because of them. It passes just as fast as it appeared, and his hands settle back in his lap.

Answer enough. He'd meet anyone who asked more of them with the point of his horn.

Lemm breathes in deep. Then out, with a sigh that carries the worst of his nerves (anger) with it.

There are a few false starts - a couple of angry ones, and a more muted one. Ultimately he says nothing.

(He is allowed, it's allowed:) His arm curls around the Knight and pulls them closer, squeezing them to his side by their shoulders.

[focusedvoid]

The Void is immeasurable. The Lord of Shades, only a fragment of its entirety, is massive, bigger than buildings.

The Knight alone has defeated countless foes that dared underestimate them, or that they had to throw themselves at again and again, too stubborn to fall.

Pressed against Lemm, they feel small.

In earlier times, they rarely have. When they had, it was irritating.

It isn't.

One of their paws reaches up across their chest to settle on his arm.

[capitalcurator]

He wishes there was something actionable in all this. Maybe he'd feel better if going back there and tearing Seer a new opinion felt like a good idea, but it doesn't.

Though with their paw there, actually, this feels like enough. Which is an unfamiliar thought.

Lemm settles for holding the Knight tucked by his side, shifting so they fit more comfortably. Another wave of protectiveness rolls through him - these are becoming familiar - but this time it feels acted on.

"...Bugs're unfathomable sometimes. Everyone's got a history, and for once I've no taste for the kind I mean. Don't let it get to you." His voice soft, Lemm squeezes their shoulder reassuringly.

[focusedvoid]

They nudge a horn into his side. It's obviously getting to them right now, Lemm.

...But they understand what he's intending.

Insulted, hurt. Betrayed.

That's a term for what they're feeling. Betrayed, and yet again, they can't understand the Radiance for what she had done. How could she return with wrath? They want to do nothing more than flee and stay away from Seer forever.

Possible. It's been this long. They could. Currently, it's what they want, but the Knight knows themselves enough. They...do care about her. They like her, despite how they feel she's cracked their mask and the pieces fell somewhere in their chest. If she wants--if she dies for herself, they will not stop her. But they'd rather she not, and she should know this.

Lemm's arm is already around them. Their mind catches up to an idea, and they finally twist and hold him with both of theirs.

[capitalcurator]

He knows. On the surface, what he said is the equivalent of just don't be bothered by it, which is functionally useless. But that's not the way it was meant.

They seem to get it, if the way they turn to him is any indication. (As ever, it catches at his chest that they would, far more than he's willing to let intrude on the moment.)

He'd tuck his other arm around them as well, but his build and their positions on the Tram seating make that difficult. Lemm settles for just squeezing them closer for a moment in reciprocation, and then consolingly rubs at their back under their Nail hilt, mindful not to catch at their wings.

Ordinary moments like this are unfamiliar to the both of them, though becoming less so. Gazing idly out of a window, Lemm still hopes he's doing his part right.

[focusedvoid]

They stay there for a little while, arms wrapped around where they can. (Maybe a few strands of Shade Wings around his wrist, gentle and thoughtless.)

It's...nice.

They count the bands of his shell, slowly tipping their head until they get look at his ruff, and once more wish they could sigh. Insult, hurt, betrayal, grief. They pull back.

Taking out their cloak floats across their mind, but that feels...too much work. And they don't want to drag it around. They'll need to leave the Tram eventually.

...Maybe sooner than eventually. There are bodies here. Hallownest's corpses are far too common, and they hadn't really considered it. They feel unsettled for Lemm, a little, and suddenly more like they're surrounded.

The Knight straightens up and pulls out their map on habit. They can...do something. Stare at it. Dirtmouth?

[capitalcurator]

Examining him this close they'll notice a few scuffs and imperfections here and there, all the usual tells of a bug long out of the moulting phase - though he seems to have taken care of himself quite well over the years, because actual chips are few. If he knows they're looking - likely - he does a good job of pretending he doesn't.

Lemm knows the Wings on his wrist when he feels it. This too gets no reaction. (He feels compelled to put his hand over them, like he did with Greenhorn when they'd panicked, except the angle still gets in the way and it wouldn't be as subtle as he'd like. Nothing, then.)

When the Knight is done hugging him, Lemm takes it as a cue and loosens his arm from their shoulders as well. His hands slip very softly from the cling of Shade strands and fold back to his lap. The fidgeting does not restart.

...He's been in Hallownest long enough that he's grown fairly numb to the scattered corpses, but he'd always done his best not to sit with them. Someone should probably do something about all of those - is a thought he has fairly often. (Perhaps they noticed the few places he showed them in the City were devoid of bodies. Perhaps they didn't.)

He glances down. The Knight seems to be at a loss over where to go.

"Could find something historically important for you to whack," he suggests, with a flimsy sort of fist-bop motion like he's miming holding a Nail, if you've never used a Nail before.

[focusedvoid]

They stare. They wouldn't, especially not with--

--oh. Teasing. Lemm gets a soft swat where they'd just hugged.

And then they point to the center of the Crossroads. He's reminded them. The Failed Champion's--Hegemol's--armor might still be there, where Cornifer's label still is.

(The Knight did hit it a few times. It felt there was even less damage than when it was worn.)

[capitalcurator]

He looks rather pleased that he got them with that one. At least it's distracting, which was the goal.

Lemm peers down at the part of the map they indicate, cogs turning. Hadn't they talked about this before-?

"Ah. I'd be willing. Might take our minds off a few things." He does pause, though, and affords some more thought to it. "...Thought we'd be putting the expeditions on hold for a while, though." He supposes they're already quite off-track. The Moth did throw things into disarray.

[focusedvoid]

They remember to shrug.

I was going to question my siblings next but that can wait. We're near Dirtmouth, and the armor is on the way. if you like. And if it's still there.

[capitalcurator]

"Hm."

Content with that answer, Lemm pushes up off the seat and scoops up his bag.

"Herding me to Dirtmouth against my better judgement again, eh?" This, too, is teasing. There's nothing in his tone to actually suggest he's against the idea.

He waits to be sure they're following, and goes to the door. On his step across to the platform, he does actually opt to give a voice to the thought:

"Kingdom's full of husks. Can't look good to tourists." Morbid? Yes. The only way of putting it that doesn't let the depressing aspect take the forefront? Also yes.

[focusedvoid]

They're too off-balance to think of a proper reply, so they only nod. He doesn't seem upset. Even if he is, he's not made of glass.

Their first thought is still rather depressing: generally the tourists are the husks. Rather than write such, they shrug a little, again. Whoever decides to be Tour Guide will have quite a job to do.

[capitalcurator]

"Don't look at me! I can't think of a thing worse than dragging around a sorry lot of rubbernecking strangers." He'd rather be on corpse cleanup by himself! ...Too grim to say out loud, maybe.

...Although.

The voice he puts on is flat and disinterested, and accompanied by dull little gestures at nothing.

"If you turn to your left you'll see a sheer drop with spikes at the bottom of it. On your right, another sheer drop full of spikes. Expect me to say this a lot. Now those of you unlucky enough not to have wings, say a prayer or two and follow me down this stairless flight-shaft. Three guesses what's down there!"

...He doesn't continue this little tirade any further, thankfully, just ending it with a dry little pah and letting his arm drop.

It is a fairly quiet journey from there on out; Lemm has little to say about the scenery on the way, though the few anecdotes he does bring up are a lot more positive. (He can't stay mad at you, Hallownest. For a practical bug you're a nightmare, but your arcades are delightful.)

[focusedvoid]

Alright, that's enough to inspire real amusement, and stronger nodding. Amusing and correct.

Its easier to listen to Lemm's architecture ramblings this time, and easier to keep moving. Lingering grief settles somewhat, and they choose not to poke it. (For the Knight's own sake, but too, their Siblings match their displeasure. Seer looked at them, and they were wary; then she insulted their Strongest, and now they're unhappy with her. Best to move from that.)

At their goal, the armor is still there. The Knight takes a moment to pause at the edge of their former arena, surprised. They expected one of the Maggot siblings to take it eventually. But no, it's still lying upon its front in the middle. The Maggots, if they're still above, are keeping too quiet to hear.

They flutter over and strike the side of that empty armored shell. Ting!

[capitalcurator]

He is at first more interested in the scenery, though that is usually included in the list of reasons why Lemm goes anywhere.

But it isn't long before his attention is drawn straight to the armour lying on the ground, partly because of their smacking the thing with their Nail (which he opts not to comment on this time, it had been his suggestion). His pace quickens to cover the last bit of distance.

"Aye, look at that..."

Oh, definitely metal. It should be on a stand somewhere, seeing it lying on the floor is maddening. Trouble is he's got absolutely no chance of lifting it. Lemm gingerly puts out a hand and smooths it over the shoulder piece.

... Ah.

He snaps to look at the Knight. "You fought this."

[focusedvoid]

They've wandered a circle around it, peering into where the Maggot had stuck his head out. They'd glanced in before every time they passed, but they'd been too preoccupied to do much more. Their horns and mask were too inflexible for them to properly wriggle inside anyway.

At least back then.

Lemm will see their head bob, half-hidden behind the armor's horns. The Knight sets their paws on each side, thinking. They could melt a little and get in now.

...They'd be more enthused if in a better overall mood. Their claws tap lightly over the metal.

[capitalcurator]

"It's massive!"

Yes, Lemm, it is. Very astute. Mostly he's just commenting in the way of you had no business fighting anything this big even though he knows it's... more complicated than that. Still, hadn't they not had the power of the Shadelord back then?

He is equal parts disapproving and impressed.

"What are you looking at?" Lemm comes around to join them by the head of the armour, and his interest piques. "Ah. Oh, that's interesting."

Lemm peers over the Knight's horns at the hole in the neck, and gives a thoughtful hum. He disappears for a moment to go and borrow a lumafly light from a nearby post, and returns to hold it carefully past their shoulder to see into the hollow space.

It looks rather complicated in there.

"Finger trap hazard if I ever saw one," Lemm remarks, faintly amused.

[focusedvoid]

I couldn't damage the outside, but the Maggot within had problems and couldn't keep his head inside at all times. An easy target, albeit confusing. Going up against him the first time had been alarming.

They shift partly out of the way, peeking inside with a single eye. There are lots of mechanical parts, many being anchored to some kind of cable.

They nod agreeably. And, since they aren't fingers, stick a strand of Shade Wing inside rather than the whole of them.

There don't seem to be leavers or the like, but when they prod one cable--very intentionally, opposite the side Lemm's on--the whole arm twitches as its elbow joint jerks.

[capitalcurator]

"Hm. It does look like it'd take practice." He's fascinated. Lemm is so very tempted to stick his hand in -

"- Ah!" he exclaims, flinching back from the arm that moved. He huffs at himself. "...Responsive, isn't it."

Lemm glances around, suddenly curious, and eyes the pole that once made up part of the False Knight's weapon. He pushes the glass light into the Knight's hands distractedly and goes to drag the pole over, setting it against the armour's open gauntlet, and steps back.

"Should be a way to make it grab," he hints, looking very interested indeed. "Watch yourself though."

Sometimes this is just what a Relic Seeker's curiosity looks like: not entirely dissimilar to a child with a new toy. He would likely be displeased to have this pointed out.

[focusedvoid]

It can't be as complicated as it looks. They hold the Lumafly up (out of habit, as their vision in the dark is better these days) and prods around a little more.

The armor's body shape is roughly like their own, but the mechanisms inside seem designed for more limb movement than they're used to in this form.

The whole arm scrapes across the floor without much trouble, and they manage to make it bend on command, but the hand and individual fingers are more tricky. The stone gets several scratch marks as they try to get it on top of the pole, let alone gripping it.

The increasingly-frustrated Knight sends some new respect to the Failed Champion lain above.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm spectates, hands stuck expectantly on his sides. If he could actually see what they were doing he'd probably be trying to give them tips, not that he has any idea how it works either.

Seeing the obvious struggling going on, Lemm fails to stifle a faint snicker.

"S'harder than it looks, eh? Never seen anything like this up close." He looks thoughtful, and adds: "Knowingly."

He sidesteps, keeping out of what he estimates to be the range of any mistakenly-flailed limbs, and gets a look at it from a side angle.

"Look at the weight of that! Fierce thing to go up against, and a feat of engineering at that. Great Knight indeed." ...Should he be encouraging them to muck about with this armour, really? Maybe he'll tell them to stop. In a minute. They're busy with puzzling it out, which feels like an excellent change of pace.

[focusedvoid]

The Knight ends up stepping onto the edge of the armor's space for face to concentrate better. Shifting into shade and sliding in there is becoming more and more tempting.

They do not get it to hold the pole. They do, however, get its palm to lie flat and lever the whole thing up on the one arm like it's going to stand, still braced inside the face armor. At least it's a somewhat better angle to examine the portly front.

When Lemm looks at them next, they shift their many strands of unoccupied Wings into a vague shape of the amount of limbs it seems to need to pilot the thing.

[capitalcurator]

He circles further around to the front, watching them get to grips with... at least some of its functions, and looks suitably impressed.

"Ah, look at how the plating shifts! Subtle, but it looks like it's for freedom of movement - it'd bend almost any way a real bug might." He winds his shoulder experimentally, like he's mentally comparing the two. "It'd have to for combat, of course, but I wonder if that didn't go a long way towards Hegemol's image..."

Lemm tilts his head thoughtfully as he observes the Wings they put out.

"What's that? The controls?" ...Ah, no, how the controls are used. He twigs a second later and squints. "Isn't that a suspicious number. What're you thinking, then? Hegemol's a spider, is he?"

[focusedvoid]

They can't do much more than that from the outside, Wings or no. The armor is settled back onto its front in short, jerky movements. (It survived a fall down a full story, and it's armor, but letting it drop seems disrespectful.)

Hopping back off, Wings still extended, they use all those not-quite-limbs in a shrug.

Possibly. The Maggot had many limbs and controlled it well, but he must have had time to practice.
I might be able to get inside.