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: 2023-06-16 08:09 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (what.)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
"The -"

Ah, that is a lot of information at once, and spread out on a page with not much coherence. Lemm tilts a bit to read better. And he doesn't mean to loom, only the angle is awkward...

His line of sight is interrupted slightly by their fist.

...He slumps back into place when he's done, and folds his arms over his chest, thinking. This is a lot. None of it is remotely familiar to him, and he doesn't have good advice, here, not really, just second-hand...

It doesn't take long. He feels strange about leaving them in silence too long here, which might be why his answer isn't exactly thought-through.

Nor is it verbal at first. Lemm settles a hand on their head. Give him a minute. Give them a minute. But he's here, regardless.

Date: 2023-06-16 08:22 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (don't touch the merchandise!)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Lemm almost jumps for his life as well. It's not like this is familiar, sitting next to someone and trying to -

- Unimportant, there is tea everywhere. It's all over the Knight and it's - liquid, so it's going to be all over his bed, he's going to have to sleep on that, but it's also all over the only guest he's got, all of this is bad at the same time -

The Knight will find themselves unceremoniously swept up under the arms and held, awkwardly, by a Relic Seeker who is now on his feet and didn't quite mean this at all. He is still in the moment. He is probably about to be horrified.

Date: 2023-06-16 08:43 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (take off the defender's crest)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Lemm flinches his face away instinctively, though he also doesn't immediately put them down. This is a mess. He registers an unpleasant noise, one he's not remotely fond of. The moment settles.

The moment settles, and: he is standing, holding the Knight like some offending stray beast caught going at a pantry, and there is a bit of tea dripping from them, but really not enough to warrant this, now that he's entirely present and thinking about it.

There is tea all over his floor. Amid shards of shattered cup, because the floor is hard. He stares at that.

Then he stares at the back of the Knight's head, suddenly unsure quite what to do with them. (There is Void tangled at him, in places. Not sure what to do about that especially. Can he put them down, even?)

...He puts them down, slowly, just sinks them to the floor until their feet are touching and very, very gingerly lifts his hands away, flared out like he's making a point of not touching, any more, see. See how he's backing off from what he just did. See. Look.

His hands come back to clasp awkwardly at his front, rubbing. He waits for their Wings to recede.

Date: 2023-06-16 09:51 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (...)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He's still standing there. They're looking at him. He didn't mean to do that. (He can't say.)

He's staring - at them, at the tea, spreading into the grooves between the tiles, he should do something about that.

No, first, the Knight. But either thing means leaving the room.

Lemm is too old to be paralysed by this. He presses a hand to his forehead and slides it up his horn, frowning.

"That was stupid of me," he says out loud. Sorry won't come. Most things don't. "Hold your thoughts, will you."

He determinedly disappears out past the curtain.

Date: 2023-06-17 07:43 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Lemm is reminded when he exits into the main shop just how disorganised he is right now. Nothing's where it should be, and it wasn't to begin with. All the rain in the City of Tears and he doesn't even know if he has a towel.

He snatches up a cleaning cloth he left on the counter and tries to tell himself it doesn't matter it still smells strongly of metal polish. On the way back he also swipes up an antique scuttle, because he can't find anything better to put trash in.

When he hurries back in, he thunks the scuttle down on the floor and immediately waggles the cloth at the Knight to try and shoo them away from the mess.

"Let me. S'my fault. Here."

Date: 2023-06-17 08:38 am (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
The cloth is lightly tossed at the Knight's proferred Void tendrils, and he gestures to them, at the tea. They should clean themselves up.

Lemm kneels and begins tinking the shattered wet ceramic piece by piece into one cupped hand. This is easier for it all being in one pile like that. They've helped enough, and anyway guests shouldn't tidy. So he's heard.

(He pauses briefly over a large fragment with most of the shiny handle still on it. Narrows his eyes.)

"Keep writing when you're ready. Didn't mean to interrupt."

Date: 2023-06-17 01:00 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
The pieces are dumped unceremoniously in the scuttle; Lemm is meticulous, plucking the tiniest chips of porcelain off the floor just to be thorough. He rises and comes to take the cloth when they're done, sparing a glance at the page as he wipes his hands off.

"Don't be ridiculous," he retorts. "Grabbed you like a tiktik. Not your fault."

He returns to the puddle of tea and kneels to mop it up with the cloth.

"Sounds like it was dumped on you like a pile of stone journals," he muses, distractedly thumbing the damp fabric at the edge of a tile and examining the result disdainfully. "Probably good to remember you don't have to go through it all at once. Probably best you don't."
Edited Date: 2023-06-17 01:00 pm (UTC)

Date: 2023-06-17 04:48 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (hmm)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
A glance over his shoulder tells him what that faint shift is. They get a short hmph in response.

He finishes dabbing at the floor and drops the cloth in the scuttle with the rest of the mess. Out of sight, out of mind, for now.

When he turns to rejoin them he's buried his embarrassment very well. Not even fidgeting. Why don't they - just pretend that never happened. He peers at their paper.

It's... kind of disconcerting to know there are experiences being passed along. Weirder that it's anything he was involved in. Lemm doesn't think he likes it much; this is neither here nor there.

"Aye, well, I mean not all of it at once - not none of it, never. Dip in and out. That's my advice. Never finish an account in one sitting if you can't make it through without a fight." Unsettled. Well, that's about how he felt for most of the encounter, so maybe that's fair. (That's petty.) "You can tell them it was camellia, if that means anything."

Lemm folds his arms, thinking hard.

"Never held a teacup..."

And all the rest that implies, that's the unspoken part. He waits to see what the Knight will say to that.

Date: 2023-06-19 07:24 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He thinks about that, looking properly engaged, running short claws down his beard and frowning. He thinks about the Hollow Knight in his shop looking more like a bedraggled thing hauled in from the rain than he'd really expected them to. Answers they hadn't given, stiff and still as the statue outside. Answers they had given, in strange, small ways. Hints, more like. More daring than it had looked, maybe. Never held a teacup - I won't be the only one stumbling my way through this interaction, then. We've both had little practice. He hadn't expected to be that right about it.

(He tries very hard not to snag on important to me. That's not the point, it's - not the point, Relic Seeker, you've a duty here. Focus.)

"...Hrm." Translation: he's thinking. He doesn't understand, not yet, it's - he has to look at it through a few different lenses, first.

There are accounts of those in service of greater purpose, taking their angle to extremes. It feels like a similar story, but reasonably it's not - all the agency is gone. Besides, what the Knight is saying is personal, they're saying something is wrong with the Hollow Knight. Similarly, like there was something wrong with the Knight hiding under his counter...

Ah. Yes, that does it. There is an unpleasant pang at that, and Lemm holds onto it. Important to... Like that. It is the point, actually. Abruptly, he blurts out:

"Well, you should look at it how you want to look at it." He flaps a hand vaguely. "Never get bogged down in what someone else thinks of you. If the Hollow Knight thinks you're the King of Hallownest that's their problem. You're their sibling. You want -" pause, stop. He narrows his eyes at them. "You do want to be their sibling...?"

Date: 2023-06-22 07:42 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (hmm)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Lemm was reasonably expecting that not to solve much, and it doesn't seem to disappoint him so badly.

"Pah," he responds quietly to their rebuttals, in a deliberately de-fanged sort of way. "Well, my advice was never going to be any good here. No siblings," he adds, to explain it. As if this is the most ordinary conversation in the world, like the Void and King's Brand and the Hollow Knight's legacy don't factor in and it's simply basic sibling drama.

They do factor, but he is an ordinary bug. What use is he with any of that?

"Look, you've come to the wrong bug for social advice - aye," he interrupts himself, noticing them retreat into the pillows, and pats a hand lightly on one near their face to attract their attention. Still with him? "But it's not about being equipped. If it was about being equipped..." He stumbles to a halt.

"...Don't be King at them, that's all I'm saying, if you're no good at it. From everything I've read the King's main function was to look like he knew exactly what he's doing, so don't give them false impressions. I haven't bothered pretending at you like I'm a - like I'm -" he makes a whirling hand gesture with his other hand "- Marissa the Songstress. And it's gone shockingly well anyway, hasn't it! Well, it hasn't gone horribly. You're still here."

Date: 2023-07-06 01:52 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
He very pointedly does not pull away. He does glance down, just for a split second, like he's trying not to get caught in the act of looking, but it's brief.

"Hm."

Short, dismissive, and makes him sound fairly unconvinced. Still, if the Knight says it's helpful, he can't exactly argue without implying they're a liar. Which they are not.

Lemm snaps his gaze away from them entirely and just sits there looking thoughtful for a little while.

"So you say, but that's the end of it! I've no more to say about it. Sorry," he adds, half-muttered, tacked on like a last-second regret.

But, while he's already talking, and since their hand is on his arm so really they started it:

"You're good at being stubborn - do that. It'll... work itself out." There. Advice and reassurance. Some bugs do this all the time. (It sounds so clunky when he says it.)

Date: 2023-07-06 07:10 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (Default)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
Oh, he can't believe they let that slide. People say those sorts of platitudes all the time, but he could never quite understand why. He still sort of doesn't, but less so.

Another soft little pfeh and Lemm shakes his head, still not looking at them.

"Nonsense. You're -" that sentence sticks, suddenly, and he abruptly changes tack. "I gave you the key, didn't I? S'not like anyone keeps solid hours down here, so any way you look at it it's my own silly fault."

What he can't say, he might communicate. Lemm shifts his arm from under their paw - only to pat them on the head reassuringly.

"And I broke the cup, so don't go apologising for that either." A beat. He tilts his head and stares at nothing, his hand lingering awkwardly between their horns. "Maybe it'll glue. Been here since the previous owner, that set."

Date: 2023-07-06 09:02 pm (UTC)
capitalcurator: (this isn't a museum)
From: [personal profile] capitalcurator
His hand stays where it is. It's almost like he's forgotten where he's put it, only that can't be true because he obviously felt them push back.

"Ah. I could fix far worse," he brags, naturally, "but a broken blade's worth more to a Relic Seeker than a brand new one, so to speak."

He glances back at their writing again, and looks contemplative.

"...But that was just something that was here when I moved in. Cheap stuff, I've seen others like them in other dwellings. The owner was a tacky sort." Wistfully - or perhaps almost fondly: "I might find the glue."

Lemm pats them once more on the head and eases himself up onto his feet with a decisive sigh.

"Come, you. I've some junk to offload on you, you unlucky little trespasser. Might as well have you pay your dues for breaking and entering."

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