#I figure she knows Greenpath like the back of her hand

[dooblebugss]

Watching

[ratcandy]

CoGR Abridged/Summarized

Hello hello! My name is Clam, otherwise known as Squeakyclam on Ao3, and this is a heavily summarized/shortened version of my HK fic Camouflage of Great Renown. For anyone somehow finding this that doesn't know what it's about, CoGR focuses on Zote and his story through the game and what preceded it. He recounts his entire life up until the end of what's known in canon, and this includes a whole lot of angst, growth, realizations, and Trauma Revelations.

Oh, and he's a nosk. Zote is a nosk. Yep.

I've had a few requests for a summary, as the work is super long and reading through 130k+ words of Zote dialogue may not be for everyone, hehehe so I've compiled all the important plot points and wrote them out here in order of his story, rather than the plotline CoGR goes through specifically (in which big events in his history are revealed later on).

If I had to recommend reading the fic for anything, it'd be the... impact, I suppose? 'Cause reading the summarized events here will NOT be anything like reading it in CoGR. Seeing as the fic is all in Zote's pov and he actually has to force himself to admit all of this aloud. But I digress!!

Here's a summary of Zote's life according to CoGR.

THIS IS A VERY, VERY LONG POST DESPITE BEING A SUMMARY. I'm sorry, CoGR just has a lot happening! T/W for mentions of death.

A lot more heavy stuff happens in CoGR, but in this summary I do my best to step around those subjects. If you think more T/Ws should be added, let me know, and I'll put them here

Nosks were a species that inhabited Deepnest, specifically living in a den towards the nest's depths. It split off into lots of tunnels and caverns that each nosk lived in. "Society" there was very hostile and unwelcoming, as nosks valued brute strength over just about anything else. Caring for another nosk - be it kin or otherwise - was considered weak. "Burdens" to the den, such as nosks that were badly wounded, would/could not hunt, or were simply getting too old would be killed off. Death in and of itself was very common and hardly anyone would bat an eye at it.

Think the Mantis Tribe but largely feral and without a shred of decency of morals.

Runt donning mask of citizen was born into the nosk den alongside his brother, who would become hunter donning hide of tiktik.

(Before anyone asks, these are just the naming conventions that nosks have. No one but the nosk superiors - the leaders of the den - are granted actual names.)

A third egg was among them, but the brother broke it open and ate the younger sibling not long after hatching.

The two were born under a superior (their mother) and her chosen mate (their father). They were expected to grow up strong and eventually overtake their mother and become superiors. Or, one of them would, maybe.

The runt (Zote) was immediately scorned by the mother, as he was extremely frail and useless, and she just about killed him off right after he hatched - but his father stepped in, and the runt was left alive.

Zote grew up to be a weak nosk who could barely defend himself in a den full of beasts that would gladly kill him if doing so wouldn't be a direct offense to a superior. His brother was cruel to him, his father berated him constantly, and his mother was hardly in the picture at all. Only ever watching him distastefully from afar.

His father did, however, train him, if only sparingly. The least he could do to keep Zote alive. (Doing so would be a death wish were any other nosks to find out about it...)

However, an elder in the den - hunter donning mask of weaver - gained Zote's attention as she told him fantastical stories from outside the den. This elder had spent a good portion of her life among the Weavers, initially being sent to learn about them (to make them easier to hunt) but growing interested in their culture and choosing to stay. Until she did something to get her chased out.

At any rate, she told the stories from the Weavers to Zote, alongside news of what was happening outside of Deepnest. This caused the runt to become obsessed with the idea of being a knight, as the stories just sounded!! So amazing and heroic and awesome and!!! :D Yea!! He wanted to be just like that!

To the point where he even carved a sword out of the shellwood... with the den elder's help. He named it Life-Ender eventually.

At some point, however, his father found out about all this. His father figured that the only way to eliminate this problem - as wishing to be something heroic that saved lives or whatever was SO unnosk-like (and would get him killed) - was to kill the den elder.

Before she died, the elder told Zote to run away from the den, and not to return no matter what. The idiot did not run, and because of this, he witnessed the Den Elder's death at the hands of his father and some other nosks.

Man! this does, however, cause Zote to be more... "open" about his ideas. By this I mean he begins carrying Life-Ender around instead of hiding it in his nest. what do you mean it's a comfort item what! no he's just rebelliously showing off how much he wants to be a knight. totally. 100% /s

well, anyway, not long after this, the idiot's father dies at the claws of his mother. Zote unfortunately witnesses this as well. When he tries to run, his mother catches him, nearly killing him as well. Luckily(?), this attempt is thwarted by Zote's brother, who was very distraught over their father's death. The brother swears to kill the mother before storming off. Zote runs into hiding (still in the nosk den), and begins devising his plan so to get the hell out of there.

Of the few times that Zote leaves his nest after his father's death, 90% of them ended with him getting pummeled by his brother. The latter was livid, blaming the father's death on Zote and frequently bursting into fits of emotional rage. Rage is great for nosks, other emotions not so much.

On one occasion in particular, the brother goes too far, nearly killing Zote. In the scuffle, Life-Ender is shattered, and that sends Zote into a blind anger (mixed with survival instinct as he's About to Die). Zote then kills his brother.

A crowd had gathered around them during the fight. In that crowd was Zote's mother, who looked to him approvingly after he'd killed off his brother. This terrified Zote, so he gathered the pieces of Life-Ender and fled the den forever.

Stopping at the hot spring in Deepnest, he made a disguise for himself based on the vessels that nosks would often capture. He made a new name for himself, took on an entirely new identity, and decided to abandon the idea that he was ever a nosk. He would just go to the City, be knighted by the King (who he'd heard of from the stories the Den Elder would tell him), and live out his life as a knight. Just like he always wanted. Not as a nosk. because he's not that.

The events that follow now are just very short summaries of things that happen throughout cogr.

- He breaks a statue in the Queen's station on accident after a bug finds him there. as a nosk. oops

- He obliterates the entire uoma population /j and burns himself in the process

- He repairs Life-Ender originally using mushrooms in the Fungal Wastes. Fungal adhesion is real I checked I swear

- He makes it to the City of Tears! and while there, he

Gets caught by Hegemol who mistakes him as a vessel

Drowns in the City's gutters

Purchases a cloth to wrap around Life-Ender

Hears the Pale King talk one (1) time and immediately decides he hates him

- While leaving the City, he finds a grub. That grub never really gets named, but as he frequented calling the little thing "Fiend," and the grub eventually began responding to that title, he just considers it a name for them now.

- Zote travels with the grub throughout the Crossroads until he drops them off with the Grubfather, being rewarded for reuniting them but overall feelings pretty :( about it.

- He then goes to the. So you know the houses that are underneath the Gruzz Mother's lil arena? Yea that place. he goes there and "guards" it, becoming that place's self-proclaimed knight.

- then he starts being paranoid about the grub and returns to the grubfather only to see all the grubs have been stolen. he presumes Fiend is dead from this point on (and dodges around ever using the word).

- Then he goes back to the lil town place only to see everyone's infected :(

- We then spend TEN CHAPTERS!! in Greenpath. In which he

eats a plant and dies

Stands in No Eyes's tomb.

Visits the Lake of Unn (and nothing bad happens)

Sees a nosk at the entrance to Fog Canyon and proceeds to have a panic attack

Kills everything

Gets caught by the Vengefly king

Gets saved!

has a breakdown

Yells at Ghost and then Leaves

- Canon starts!

- He stops in Dirtmouth, listens to Elderbug talk, gets told the Myth of the Great old Nosks who are now all Extinct. The news that nosks are now extinct freaks Zote out a little, but he absolutely refuses to return to Deepnest. He doesn't need to make sure. It's fine.

- In an effort to convince himself not to go to Deepnest, he goes to the City again, thinking it can't possibly be all that ba-- oh no everyone's dead!

- he inadvertently steals a map marker from Ghost and decides to use that as a pin for his cloak

- Zote returns to Deepnest. He's very upset with himself for this, but he just has to know if all the nosks are actually extinct now.

The answer is yes

but before that he gets caught by dirtcarvers and put in a web and has to be saved. this makes him angry

Upon seeing all the dead nosks once he gets to the den, and noticing that the last nosk was mimicking Ghost (evidenced by the mask left behind) before it died, he decides that he's gotta Kill Everything again

- more specifically we're going to the Colosseum now.

- Zote's fear of water evaporates as he goes through the secret passage in the King's Station to get to Kingdom's Edge. He only found it because he saw Ghost go that way

- While at the Kingdom's Edge, he gets caught by the Fools, who he stupidly challenges and then immediately gets caught by.

- sits in dumb baby jail for a while. mean to tiso

- Then the colosseum battle happens! He does not win he then gets dropped down into kingdom's edge with little regard toward whether he's dead or alive

- He grabs a Fool's helmet before leaving, going back to Dirtmouth, and intending to bury that thing

- this goes wrong as he bumps into Bretta. He then sits and talks with her for God Only Knows how Long, spacing out while doing so, and not even noticing when she eventually gets up and leaves him.

- He buries the helmet, shuts himself away in his house, and gets stuck repeating his precepts to himself. At the end of CoGR it is revealed that he hasn't been talking to anyone, and is instead talking to himself endlessly as no one is left to listen to him

and that's it! that's cogr. yeah

[vivifrage]

pk + any dirtmouth resident(s) for 29~?

29. Hello, nice to meet you... I guess.

(I’m gonna do Archivist!PK AU for this one)

Dirtmouth wasn’t a big town. Even in its prime, it had been rather small and dusty, but close-knit and warm. Just the way Elderbug liked it, even before he’d been called that. And now, to his old heart’s joy, there were people again. Not many, but there were never many. Just a few folks, and they were close, neighbors reaching out again for anything from getting some help on a project to social calls.

Dirtmouth was small, and friendly, and quite pleasant.

Which, of course, made a new visitor stand out terribly much.

It wasn’t as if there were never visitors. The siblings came around often, to the point they were practically residents, just ones that lived elsewhere. Which sort of defeated the whole point of residency, but the matter stood that they were familiar and beloved.

This fellow stepping out of the stag station was neither.

Going purely off of eye level, he was around Elderbug’s height, with awfully long horns. Which, those eyes, so very dark and deep, in a way he’d only ever seen on one other. (Unless you counted Ghost and Hollow, but those weren’t true eyes, were they?) He squinted, trying to get a better look at those eyes. Was there something in them? Some glint, or other mysterious quality?

And the fellow glowed a bit, he swore. Just a bit, he’d have to get closer to tell.

Oh. He’d taken a step towards him. He ought to go back, not crowd, but... That light. So strange. He would like to take a look.

Being a small town, the others soon noticed. The fellow glanced at figures moving behind windows, Sly and Bretta and the mapmaker couple all sneaking peeks.

He stepped towards Elderbug. The mapmakers’ door creaked open, and the fellow started to flare lacy wings. Shy? Or threatened?

All three reached Elderbug at the same time, Cornifer and Iselda converging with this stranger in their midst, all eyes on each other.

Well, not quite a stranger, was he?

After all, Elderbug had seen the king’s symbols, and those proportions certainly weren’t unfamiliar. Besides, he had his daughter’s eyes.

The stranger - the king? said nothing. Didn’t order their fealty or anything, though if he asked, Elderbug had the strangest feeling he’d not say no. Even with what the siblings had told him.

“You’d be the Pale King, then?” Iselda said. She sounded so strong, or at least like she was trying to be. If only Elderbug could sneak a hand to pat hers, give her some sort of reassurance.

The stranger blinked. “I was, once.”

Listening to the whispery rasp of his voice, with some unnameable but entrancing undercurrent, Elderbug had a feeling entertaining royalty wasn’t the biggest problem here.

“Nice to meet you...” Cornifer readjusted his glasses, peered a little closer. “I guess.”

Another slow blink. “You know my children.”

Right. His children. The siblings. The stranger didn’t much strike him as the fatherly type.

“Mmhm.” Iselda’s voice carried more than a bit of an edge, though a wavering one.

The stranger’s wings rustled and folded back. From the light, Elderbug was fairly certain he glanced between all of them.

“Do you know,” he asked, “Where Hornet is? She was working on something, and left it back in the Archives.”

Yet another slow blink. “It cannot wait for her siblings to bring it to her.”

All three Dirtmouth residents looked to each other, squinting and frowning and stammering.

Cornifer shrugged. “I haven’t seen her recently. I’ve been in Greenpath.”

Iselda shook her head. “She came through town, I think she went up to the cliffs.”

Elderbug pointed back at the cliffs and the winding road. “I believe she said she was visiting Nailmaster Mato, who lives there.”

The stranger nodded. “Thank you.”

And with that, he continued on, leaving the townsfolk bobbing hopelessly in this smallest ripple of a god’s wake.

[fascinatedhelix]

Some updates to the HK/NSR crossover AU, since the original was made pre-release (the following does contain spoilers!):

Ghost

Ran away from the Trankil Adoption Agency due to finding most humans too restrictive on their freedom; they’re accustomed to being able to come and go as they please, and the agency doesn’t really approve of trankil running around unattended. BBJ are more relaxed about it, leading to the little one being along the lines of a latchkey trankil.

Mayday and Zuke earn their trust by buying them food and helping them clean up in the restaurant’s bathroom, rather than just grabbing them and dragging them back to the agency. Aunty, for one, adores them, due to their sweet little face and how eagerly they eat her cooking.

Has pulled a knife on Kliff, multiple times, because he’s creepy as hell and sets off all their alarms, much to the exasperation of Zuke and Mayday. He tries bribing them with toys and snacks up until his betrayal, after which he almost gets stabbed again before BBJ drag Ghost with them to stop the fans.

Zuke doesn’t let them draw their blade in the sewer or on the streets, normally, but he doesn’t necessarily ban them from sharps entirely. He can tell they know how to use them, though he opts to let them use a kitchen knife instead of the haphazard scrap of metal they’ve been swinging around on the streets.

Zam has attempted to conduct interviews with Ghost before, but finds himself mostly just perplexed at their answers. "Okay, I’m looking at what appear to be, uh, hieroglyphics of some kind. I can see something that kind of looks like a rhinoceros beetle head... They’re shaking their head ‘no.’” The little section where he interviews them is nicknamed Ghost Tour.

Comet

They were sleeping in DJ Subatomic Supernova’s apartment at the time of the battle, since he didn’t think he’d need their help. They’re too small to be asked for a whole lot, anyway; he mostly has them around to keep himself company and have someone to talk to (or at, as the case may be).

Their sound energy absorbing powers would probably be enough to deactivate some of NSR’s robots; it comes in handy when the rogue robots are getting in the way of reinstating their guardian as charter.

Their favorite stuffed animal is a toy dolphin that DJSS calls Delphinus, though Comet calls them Splashy when they learn how to write.

As they grow older, their horns begin pointing backward and eventually curling into a similar shape to ram’s horns.

DJSS secretly relishes in the opportunity to have a legacy in the form of taking care of Comet, though he doesn’t know that they are probably more likely to carry his name farther into the future than any drones he sends up to space.

Bunny

They live with Remi, the artist and leader of the Sayu team. He treats them much like a little sibling, in the nice way, and gets them to watch some of the more family-friendly anime he watches; they’re particularly fond of Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball Z, even if they keep dismantling the figures he gets them. They’re much gentler with the plushies, though.

It takes a few weeks of watching Dodo and Sofa work on machinery to get them learning how to build stuff as well as break it. They make it an entire thing when they grow older, working on machinery.

They eventually grow cheek spines, not unlike some depictions of the adult Ghost, and otherwise heavily resemble Hornet as an adult. Much taller than her, though.

Sayu’s kind of reluctant to attack Ghost because they resemble Bunny so much; “You’re too cute to fight!” Zuke doesn’t like the idea of Ghost acting like a trankil shield in fights, but it does help throw off her aim.

Thorn

Yinu’s mom specifically chose the former Broken Vessel because they were the only trankil that expressed any interest in Yinu’s infodumping about classical music. They even responded to questions with head shaking or nodding.

They come to Yinu’s side after her piano breaks, letting go of their fight with Ghost quickly enough; they don’t fault their sibling for doing what they thought was right, even if they don’t understand it, but they believed Yinu needed their support more.

They’re taking violin lessons, as it’s a touch easier to adjust to playing with four fingers on that then on piano. They get pretty good at it as an adult, though in the modern day their playing is a touch mediocre.

After their performance at Yinu’s concert, fighting in her defense with a stolen machete, Yinu’s mom at first grounds Thorn for stealing and playing with sharps, but concedes to put them in a fencing program to “get it out of their system.” They turn out a lot more competent than the instructors were expecting, and intimidate the crap out of their peers. When they’re older they take up a proper swordfighting class.

Yinu does wind up joining them in learning fencing, after her mother gets a recommendation to get her to get more exercise to avoid literally rooting herself to her piano (not an unusual issue for plant folks; they have to move pretty regularly or else they get stuck in one spot and have to be cut out). Her mom worries that she takes to it a touch too eagerly, perhaps because of her relative helplessness.

Thorn acts fairly stoic and polite most of the time, but they can be quite the handful when something piques their interest. They get banned from at least one Renaissance fair due to playing with the swords or poking the roasting pig. Yinu starts covering for them after they start bribing her with extra sweets.

Scotty

Neon J initially treated them like a trainee when he got them, but it quickly slipped into adopted child territory when he realized just how young they were. He did want kids back when he was human, so he took very quickly to the role of adoptive father.

Scotty is very good at learning language and patterns, so they wind up learning English writing pretty quickly for one of their kind. Because of this, Neon J becomes one of the few privy to the nature of the vessels, though he is uncharacteristically quiet about it.

1010 adores Scotty, occasionally posting about them on social media, making them a bit of a fandom darling, though the band does have to put out PSAs about not getting a trankil irresponsibly.

Scotty’s favorite food is cheese tarts and cheese danishes, which they tend to be awarded for good behavior.

Scotty is a very active child; they dance, they run around the mansion, they swim in the pool (and just about any fountain they run across, much to Neon J’s embarrassment), and they can’t be brought within 100 feet of a dog park without trying to pet every animal in the vicinity.

They try their best to comfort their adoptive dad when he’s suffering from phantom pains or flashbacks, though they don’t know the techniques very well. Their usual method is gently patting his hand or leaning against him (among vessels they’d be leaning against each other in large groups, leading to one big cuddle pile; they can’t do it here by themselves, but they’ll sure as hell try).

Much to Neon J’s embarrassment, they become quite the potty mouth (er, hands) when they get older. He’s a sailor, he slips up every now and then!

Riley

The former Greenpath Vessel is rather happy to leave behind the harsh life they lived back in Hallownest, though they find the most success in recounting their old life through art.

Eve tends to be a very dramatic teacher, but quite gentle with her little friend. She couldn’t have asked for a more enthusiastic student, though.

Eve’s quite protective of the little thing; she’s not quite as heartbroken about Zuke’s abandonment due to the company of her apprentice/adopted child, but the thought of them being taken away tends to scare her quite a bit. As such, she tends to spoil them rotten, though they’re still quite sweet.

Riley has a degree of PTSD from their experience in Hallownest; they’re very sensitive to sounds and movement in their peripheral, and have bitten and scratched people on more than one occasion for getting in their bubble without proper warning or consent. Eve’s pretty good about avoiding their blindspot and having her footsteps make noise they can track.

Eve’s among the first to learn about the Lord of Shades and the dream realm due to her teaching her magic painting to Riley. With her help, they created the Dark Mirror, which allows people to enter a sort of waking simulation of the dream realm, though it tends to seriously disorient people not accustomed to messing with reality (musicians tend to do fine, but normal folks? Not so much). It becomes a very useful communication tool when discussing Hallownest and how it functioned.

Sterling

The former Hollow Knight views themselves as deeply indebted to Tatiana, though also viewing her as a friend. She gave them a name, a new purpose, and an opportunity to live again without the constraints of their failed duty; of course they’re going to feel kind of guilty about it.

Only the NSR artists and a few select NSR personnel have seen them in person, and the first thing people tend to notice is their sheer size. Tatiana worries how much renovations will have to be done to accommodate the rest of their kin once they grow up, if they wind up matching their eldest sibling.

They tend to have a reasonably positive relationship with the artists, due to their kindness towards the vessels and generally respectful attitude towards the behemoth of a trankil.  DJSS tends to rant about space in their general direction as his idea of small talk, and they tolerate it. He also not so subtly squees when he sees Comet interacting with their elder sibling. Sayu’s team thinks they’re anime hero levels of cool, sword and all, and Bunny tends to agree, trying to challenge them to fight. Yinu’s mom tends to scrutinize them as reference for Thorn’s later growth, though Yinu herself and Thorn tend to climb the adult trankil like a tree for fun. Neon J respects them deeply as a knight and technical prince, though Scotty’s pretty content to try and get them to play when they visit. Eve appreciates their good manners and willingness to listen, and Riley rather likes showing them their drawings.

Tatiana tends to treat Sterling as something of a confidante, due to their quiet nature and strong sense of loyalty. She worries they idolize her a touch too much to be healthy, but knowing what she does about their past, she’s not sure if a human therapist would help.

The wings grew in a couple weeks before the Rock Revolution; evidently they hadn’t developed quite enough to develop them before they had been sealed, leading to serious back troubles during their fight before their rebirth. It was a pretty chaotic affair helping them through their last molt, considering the other trankil who’ve been molting had a lot less to shed.

Tatiana tends to scold Sterling for digging through her old rock cassettes, though she comes to regret it after the whole debacle with BBJ.

Sterling’s way more ruthless than Tatiana asks for or is fully aware of; they tend to take threats to their new life, siblings, and new companions very, very seriously, and god help the poor soul who convinces them to act. Kliff doesn’t last long after the Rock Revolution, because of this, not that anyone notices.

Misc

The vessels were united under the leadership of Ghost to create the Lord of Shades, and upon killing and absorbing the Radiance, they’ve essentially become the collective gods of the Dream Realm as well as the Void and probably Death too. The level of focus and cooperation needed to fully activate these powers is incredibly high, especially after the vessels begin developing individual personalities, so there won’t be any casual appearances of the Shade Lord any time soon.

Vessels don’t need to eat to grow for the first five or six years of their life, as they have a lot of soul energy stored in their bodies from birth to facilitate growth in the Abyss (their “yolk”), but once that’s expended they won’t grow any more until they gain a stable food source and a safe environment to molt, hence why Ghost spent such a long time being so small, despite being the same age as Sterling. While not eating won’t kill them, humans don’t know that.

The average height for an adult vessel is 8 feet, from the bottom of their feet to base of their horns, whereas a newly hatched vessel (like Comet) is about the size of a tennis ball curled up.

People who aren’t accustomed to the otherworldly presence of the trankil tend to freak out when they’re nearby; the sheer emptiness of their eyes, the expressionless faces, the inhuman size and proportions all give anybody not used to it the heebie-jeebies. Of course, Vinyl City locals stopped caring pretty shortly after they first got the trankil.

[sundimus]

Request for Fado! 21. “This. This makes it all worth it.” / Lacenet or siblings. (Went with Lacenet for this one!) /// Hallownest has not had a festival in a long time.

Back then, the festivities of the kingdom were the most anticipated events that the common bug would spend days and weeks and months looking forward to. A time where friends and family would all celebrate and feast together - a time of bonding and enjoying the joys that life has to offer. Hornet remembers growing up with the celebrations. While Deepnest had it’s own cultural celebrations, she had always been involved in the kingdom’s festivities as well. She remembers the excitement and the joy of it all - the lights and music and food that brought every comfort and feelings of camaraderie. The Pale King had even allowed Pure Vessel to carry Hornet around so she could participate in the activities herself, ever her steady babysitter. Hornet thinks back fondly at the memory of her forcing her sibling to take her everywhere she could possibly go - very demanding in a child-like way. Hollow had never complained back then. Of course, they wouldn’t have even if they wanted to, but Hornet can only hope that they had just as much fun back then as she did; even if they had tried to not feel it. It was during those times that she had felt closest to them, after all. But then the Infection happened, and all causes for celebration had been halted indefinitely. Enough time had passed and enough people had died to where most of the meanings behind the festivals had become lost. Hornet had been too young to remember them herself, but she figures that either Hollow or Lemm might know some meanings if she were to ask. However, time does heal wounds eventually. Elderbug had mentioned how he missed the annual Flower Festival - a time where, back when Dirtmouth still grew flowers and plants before the stasis, everyone would come together to eat and dance and converse with each other. He missed the sense of community and trust. Having loved the concept, Ghost and Ghoul had the idea to throw another flower festival again, despite flowers no longer being able to grow in Dirtmouth. But her siblings are stubborn, and had immediately traveled together to Greenpath to not only pick the flowers they can find there, but to also get Sheo’s help in crafting paper flowers to use as decorations. She sits on the ground in front of their shared house, waiting patiently for them to come home. “Are you excited, darling spider?” A soft sing-song voice sounds next to her, and an even warmer presence settles down beside her. “For tomorrow?” She looks at her girlfriend, who gives her a smile in return. “You mean for decorating this bleak and dull wasteland with flowers? I can’t wait.” She hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic - a part of her is genuinely enjoying the thought of participating in another celebration together with her family. Lace laughs softly at her comment. “Well this “bleak and dull wasteland” is your home now, so -” “Our.” “Hm?” “This isn’t just my home. You live here now, too. This is our home.” Hornet reaches over to grab one of Lace’s hands. “Me and you. Always.” “Oh... right,” Lace blushes, but squeezes her hand tighter, moving a little closer so their shoulders touch. “Always.” Any other words vanish for the moment, the serene quietness of the town and the brisk coolness of the air covering both of them comfortingly in the night. Neither of them say anything, each lost in their own thoughts. Hornet’s mind drifts to her mother, and how she might react to her throwing another festival so early after the death of a kingdom. She wonders if Herrah would approve and if she might have even wanted to help decorate the place as well. Maybe she’d even want to indulge in the activities herself. She wonders what it would be like to dance with Herrah properly for the first time. She knows she shouldn’t dwell on possibilities that have no chance of ever coming true, but she can’t help it. She wants to dance with her mother. “I’ve never been to a festival before,” Lace speaks up first, her voice cutting through the silence. “Pharloom doesn’t have festivals?” Hornet asks, a bit surprised. She figured that Lace’s vibrant and out-going personality would be naturally attracted to something like parties. “There is, but...” Lace shrugs. “I wasn’t allowed to go to any of them.” “Ah. My apologies, then.” “Don’t feel sorry for me. It was just one of those things, you know? But that’s alright - tomorrow means that I get to spend my first ever celebration with you. Seems worth it to me.” Hornet feels heat rush to her face, but squeezes her hand. “Yes. That makes it more special, I suppose.” “The party will be fun. I’m sure of it. Everyone laughing and having fun and being alive, despite everything that has happened. That all counts for something, right?” Hornet agrees. “It might make everything be worth it in the end.” -.x.-.x.-.x.- The “festival” itself had been put together fairly decently. The fake flowers that her siblings had made with Sheo were strung between the houses, a bunch of different bright colors almost lighting up the area. The real flowers they had picked had been woven onto handmade bracelets that everyone had been given to wear, should they choose. There definitely wasn’t as many people around that Hornet had been used to seeing at the Palace festivals, but a lot more had appeared than what she had been expecting. Of course Elderbug, Bretta, Cornifer, and Iselda were all present, along with Cloth, Myla, Tiso, and Quirrel. Ghost had brought Umbra to the party as well, and Hornet could see their bright wings flutter around the area excitedly. The Grimm troupe members are also celebrating with them. “How rude we would be should we ignore such a joyous occasion,” Grimm had said. Hornet suspects that Hollow is somewhere with him at the moment. Their presence is considerably welcomed - Brumm’s music seems to be echoing around the area, providing a great atmosphere for everyone involved. Hornet can see Ghoul and Elderbug dancing to the sound, although Elderbug’s “dancing” seems to be him just rocking back and forth slowly. Even though he likes to complain about too many people in Dirtmouth - specifically about the Troupe in general - Hornet has never seen him look happier. She’s not surprised that Ghost had managed to make so many friends and allies. Her smallest sibling certainly had an aura about them that was very gravitational. She feels arms wrap around her and instinctively tenses, ready to draw her needle, but the all-too-familiar laughter she hears from the “attacker” stops her. She turns around to see Lace’s gleeful face, and she relaxes instantaneously. “Nice to see you too, Lace.” “And it is always a pleasure to see you, spiderling,” she replies, moving her arms to wrap around Hornet’s neck. Hornet rests her hands on Lace’s waist, and they start moving their feet in a simple, slow, one-two dance. They don’t focus on anything else around them, their eyes solely locked onto each other. In the distance, Hornet thinks she can hear Ghost shrieking, but everything seems to drown out as she gets more and more lost in Lace’s warmth. She moves forward and rests her head on the other girl’s shoulder, engulfing her in a hug just to hold her. “Is the festival worth it now?” Lace laughs. “Yes,” Hornet replies softly, closing her eyes. Her voice holds a gentleness that she is not accustomed to just yet. “This makes it all worth it. I love you.” She feels Lace stiffen, and she pulls back slightly to look at her, suddenly worried that she had gone too far or had admitted her feelings too strongly. To her surprise, and somewhat relief, Lace doesn’t look upset. Instead, she looks shocked, and, if Hornet had to guess, hopeful. “Did you mean that?” Lace asks, her voice holding an excitement so prominent that it almost sounds breathless. “Yes - yes I did,” Hornet responds, now feeling a bit embarrassed. She has never said “I love you” to anyone other than her family before - she remembers learning the meaning as a little girl and shouting it to her mother and Hollow whenever she saw them, but that was so long ago. This is the first time she’s told someone who she was genuinely in love with that she loved them. Lace is the first person she has ever truly fallen in love with. That fact both excites and terrifies her. Lace visibly brightens even more, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Oh, Hornet! That makes me so happy to hear! I love you too; of course I do!” She feels a surge of courage at Lace’s response, and she blurts out her thoughts before she can stop herself. “May I kiss you?” Lace’s smile turns softer, and she lays a hand on Hornet’s cheek. “Yes,” she whispers. “Always.” They kiss surrounded by laughter and music and countless stars.

[cotillion-the-rope]

Not Hollow Chapter Four: Search

“We’re going to kill the Radiance,” Hornet said as she strode into the living room where Hollow had seemingly decided to wait.

Hollow looked up at her from where they sat on the couch. It was impossible to even guess how they felt about her declaration or about Grimmchild still hanging limp and unconscious in her arms. The lack of response made her entrance not quite as dramatic as she would’ve liked… oh well.

“I don’t know how yet, nor do I care,” those were things to figure out later, “but we’re killing her.” Because fuck any other plan to deal with her, the only way to make sure she was dealt with permanently was for her to die. “Or at least I am.” It’d be unfair to ask or expect them to face the source of their suffering. Especially since even though she helped them train with their nail fairly frequently, they weren’t anywhere near as strong as they once were. There was a good chance if she brought them into battle with her that they’d end up being more of a hindrance than an asset. … Could she kill the Radiance by herself though? … That was another issue she’d figure out later. “You don’t have to help with the killing her part if you’d rather not face her.”

Hollow nodded as they seemed to relax a little. Good, they approved.

“As soon as Grimmchild recovers, I’ll head out to start searching for a way I can access the Dream Realm.” She needed to make sure Grimmchild would be okay and all three of them needed to eat some anyway. Rushing things unnecessarily wasn’t going to help anyone.

 -

When Grimmchild woke up a few hours later he made his displeasure known immediately, teleporting out of Hollow’s bedroom and flying into the kitchen to make distressed and mildly angry mewling sounds at mostly Hornet. He was scolding her about the whole Ghost thing, wasn’t he? … Well, she did kind of deserve it.

“I know,” she said, hiding a sigh of relief over the fact that he was evidently perfectly fine. “We’re going to fix it, I promise. But first,” she stood up grab him by the tail, pulling him down to her eye level, “you need to understand that you made it worse.”

He flinched. Good, he definitely understood her.

“What made you think going in there was a good idea? It drains anyone who isn’t made of void and that’s you. If I hadn’t gone in there to investigate you probably would’ve died from it. And you caused Ghost to crack.” Not necessarily, it could’ve been something else, but the timing was just too close for it to be a coincidence. “So you made things so much worse for them and everyone else in Hallownest.”

He stopped flapping, letting himself hang upside down by his tail in her grip. Pulling his wings in on himself, he chirped in an almost dejected tone. An attempt at an apology?

She glared at him. “You better be sorry.” Ghost had gone through enough without that … and Hornet had let them. That was besides the point though, she’d had no choice. She’d tried to stop them in Greenpath and warned them in the City of Tears but they’d continued on as she knew they would.

“And now, you’re going to help me kill the Radiance, got it?”

He perked up, making an interested mewl. Then he started flapping again and she let him go. He then flew around her head, making similar sounds to the ones he made when spitting fire but not actually doing so. He was apparently ready and eager for battle, good.

“I need a way to access the Dream Realm though. I know you can access it pretty much whenever, right? So is it possible for you to bring me with you?” That would be the easiest solution.

He paused to think for a few seconds before shaking his head. Not surprising but still a disappointment. That just meant Hornet needed find another way. And now that she’d had some time to calm down and give it some more thought she maybe had a potential lead on how to do it.

If Ghost couldn’t do it naturally – as evidenced by the fact that Hollow couldn’t – they’d had to have learned it or gotten something that let them do it. Either way it was a skill they’d most likely gained sometime after she’d lost track of them in Crystal Peak. It maybe wasn’t the best place to start, especially with how long they’d been out of her sight after that, but it was something. So after a quick nap, she’d head out that way and hope for the best.

 -

Crystal Peak was one of the places she’d explored the least in all her time watching over Hallownest. It was way too bright and the way sounds echoed off the smooth surface of the crystals was unnerving. And at times it seemed as if the crystals let off their own almost ringing sound that was even more unsettling. So overall it was not a place she liked, give her the complete darkness and skittering of unseen things present in Deepnest over this any day. She was here on a mission though so she had to stay.

Except she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. When Ghost had entered Herrah’s Dream to break her Seal, something had flashed in their hand that they’d swung similar to a nail. Her hiding spot hadn’t given her a good view of it and she hadn’t been looking to see it anyway. And she hadn’t been present when they’d dealt with the other Dreamers. So there was no way for her to know what it even was let alone where she might find another one, assuming there even was another one. If not, she’d have to figure something else out.

It only took her about an hour of searching before she felt ready to give up. She didn’t know what she was looking for and didn’t even know for sure it was in Crystal Peak. She’d lost track of Ghost for a while after they’d entered the place, they could’ve gone to a number of other areas and gotten the power from one of them instead. She needed a better lead if she didn’t want to waste time searching every inch of Hallownest. … Would the Teacher’s Archive have information on what she was looking for? Perhaps, it was probably her best bet for any more information. So… off to Fog Canyon she went.

But not long after entering she regretted it as she just barely managed to dodge the exploding center of an ooma. “Are you trying to get us killed?” she growled, glaring at Grimmchild, the one at fault. “I told you not to attack them.”

He mewled innocently at her, even tiling his head a little as if he was trying to be as cute as possible. Well she wasn’t swayed by it this time. She should’ve insisted he stay behind to keep Hollow company, too late now though.

“Never do that again.”

The very next ooma they ran into, he did it again. Leaping away before the fireball even hit it, she managed to dodge fairly well this time. That didn’t make it okay though. And she wasn’t taking a third chance so not in the mood to deal with sending him back home after coming all the way out here, she started unspooling some thread. It didn’t take long to fashion it into the beginnings of a collar and leash combo and muzzle.

Grimmchild flew in to investigate what she was doing, just as she’d hoped for, making it easy to jump him and attach it before he could even react much. As soon as he realized, he yanked back but it was too late. He chirped and mewled in distress, the muzzle letting him open his mouth not even half way.

“I told you twice not to attack them. You’re smart enough to understand my words as well as what’s going on around you so you should’ve known better. Now, let’s go.” She tugged on the leash part of the thread as she resumed walking. He continued to complain and tug against the restraint but she ignored it. He was forced to eventually come along lest he fall to the ground and get dragged because she wouldn’t hesitate to do that. She was not messing around right now, she was on an important mission.

 -

Hornet had been to the Archive a few times before back when it was still up and running. The first time had been with Herrah before the Dreamers had gone to Sleep though she’d been too young to remember much of it other than Monomon was a giant jellyfish and Lurien – he’d been there too, it had been some kind of meeting or something – had been a jerk and she’d bit him because of it much to the delight of everyone else in the room. She hadn’t been back since it had ceased being operational though.

It was vastly different now, didn’t even feel like the same place. The halls were empty except for the occasional floating ooma or uoma and utterly silent. It was almost kind of creepy in a way but she ignored it.

All was going well until she was quickly reminded of that fact that she didn’t know how information was sorted here. And she couldn’t read any of it even if she did know; everything was written in what seemed to be a weird code or shorthand. Which now that she thought about it, Monomon had been well known for doing that, no one but her, her pupils, and any scholars dedicated enough to figure it out could read it.

Scholarly pursuits were not her thing and thus she was completely out of her depth here. But she needed more information and the best place to get that was the Archive so… what did she do? … Well she could ask someone who knew their way around the Archive to help. She knew someone like that even if she’d never properly introduced herself to him. And he was a skilled fighter, he might be able to help with killing the Radiance too… if she decided she wanted help with that anyway. … She hated to ask for help in any capacity though. But at the same time, this wasn’t about her pride, it was about her siblings’ suffering so… off to find Quirrel it was.

 -

She found Quirrel’s nail was abandoned by the Blue Lake. If he’d gone and killed himself, she was going to strangle him. … All right, that didn’t make any sense but she’d be pissed because she needed him.

“I’m guessing you can’t track people, can you?” she said turning to look at Grimmchild. She hadn’t bothered taking the leash and muzzle off yet because she was planning to head back to Fog Canyon with Quirrel as soon as she found him. Naturally Grimmchild was still very displeased about it because he couldn’t attack the husks they encountered either but that’s the price he paid for almost getting her killed twice on purpose.

He mewled dejectedly. It seemed to be a ‘no’ because he made no move to investigate the sword. He was truly useless on this mission which was why she hadn’t wanted to bring him.

Maybe she should just go back to the Archive and wait for Quirrel there since there was a chance he would return eventually, right? It’s where he used to live and work after all. And while waiting, she could work on figuring it out herself. … Nah, he might not return at all and going to find him to do it for her should be shorter than the alternative. So, after collecting his nail, she moved on to continue the search.

 -

She eventually found him in the City of Tears in the clearing that housed the statue of the Hollow Knight. He was with the relic seeker – Hornet couldn’t quite remember his name right now – they were even sharing an umbrella as they looked up at the statue.

Hornet jumped off the windowsill she’d climbed up on to get a good look at the clearing to land in front of them, making them both flinch back a little. “Archivist,” she said, looking Quirrel directly in the eyes. “I need your help with something.”

“I don’t really go by that title anymore,” he replied, his tone surprisingly unannoyed. The look he gave her was filled with suspicion though which made sense. Last time she’d shown herself to him, it hadn’t been the friendliest of circumstances.

“I was unaware you ever went by that title,” the relic seeker said, squinting at him suspiciously.

“It’s complicated.” He shrugged. “And uh… may I ask what’s up with the moth baby?” He pointed at Grimmchild. “It seems kind of cruel to muzzle him like that and why is he with you anyway?”

“He deserves it and he’s with me because… I’m his aunt I guess.” That was probably the best way to describe it. “But anyway, here.” She tossed his nail to him. Why he’d ever abandoned it was beyond her.

He caught it with the ease of a practiced fighter. “I left this by the lake because I’m trying to leave my old life behind.” And now he did sound a tad annoyed. Hornet didn’t care though.

“Well, you’re going to help me kill the Radiance first and then you can do whatever you want with it.”

“Uh… what?”

“You heard me. I need help figuring out how to get to her in the Dream Realm.” She hated to do it but… “And I might need help killing her there too.” The Radiance was a god after all. Hornet was a demi-god but that didn’t make her invincible. “And I’m asking you for help because I need information from the Archive.”

“Well, I suppose I can…” Quirrel began before being interrupted by the relic seeker.

“I demand to know what this is about.”

“I don’t have time to explain.” And Hornet didn’t care to explain to an outsider anyway. It was bad enough that she had to deal with Quirrel, no way was she letting anyone else in on this. “Ask you boyfriend about it when he’s done helping me.”

He flinched at the word ‘boyfriend’. “He’s not… we’re not… we’re just…”

Hornet was tired of this conversation. “Let’s go,” she said as she grabbed Quirrel by the wrist and started dragging him away.

“Uh… I guess I’ll see you at the shop later Lemm,” he said, not fighting her at all. “I’ll try to explain things then. Now uh…,” he directed towards her now, “sorry I don’t know your name but… does this mean that the… vessel fellow failed?”

“My name is Hornet and yes, they failed, just like the first one. And I refuse to stand for it any longer which is why I’m finally doing something about it.” Now that she could. She should’ve done something sooner, like before Ghost had taken on the Radiance but better late than never, right?”

“Hmm… I suppose I’ll help in any way I can then.”

~

And so Quirrel is here now too I guess. I didn't plan for that, it just kind of happened.

A bit past this point is what I had written up to when I decided to start uploading. I have since written more obviously but the next chapter gave me a bit of trouble and I'm still not entirely happy with it so I might do another big heavy edit or full rewrite to the part of it I'm most displeased with. So next chapter might take a bit longer to come out than these other chapters have.

[corruptapostasy]

The Only Option

Chapter One

Summary:

“...A sleep-induced sickness? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

No cost too great.

“It...It..It’s in my head..It..It won’t go away...”

No mind to think.

"You may have seen me put a blade through Her heart, but I was foolish to think She was really gone."

No will to break.

“The Void bends to no one. It merely makes room. It asks a price, but never asks in words. You must pay in kind."

No voice to cry suffering.

“...No matter what happens, just know that I will never stop loving you.”

“Oh, my Root... I’ve known that since the beginning of time.”

The Only Option: Chapter One

“M-My King, The Watcher’s Report has come in for you to look at.”

The King blinks out of his musings as the voice rings out through the silence, and he looks over to see the trembling visage of the advisor, holding up a stack of stone tablets, all of them bearing the insignia of his disciple’s mask, before carefully extending a claw to tap the surface of his work desk. “Thank you, Wek. Set them down here.”

“Y-Yes, My King.” The little bug scrambles to do exactly that, placing each tablet down like they’re made of spun glass, giving one last, long, reverent bow before quickly shuffling her way out of the room, visibly flustered to be in the presence of her great God.

He couldn’t help but sigh a little after watching her leave, giving a little shake of his head; sometimes he wished his nobility wouldn’t act so fearfully reverent towards him whenever he walked by. It was almost tiresome to be around those that worshipped the ground he walked on, especially when they acted so very nervous around him and his visage. He lets his gaze stray to the tablets and let out another, heavier sigh, before walking over to his desk and sitting down in his chair, taking a moment to let his tail hang over the arm rest and for all his legs to tuck against his carapace, before he picks up the nearest stone. The tablet was encased in a grey slate, displaying Lurien’s mask, acting as a fail-safe, preventing anyone lacking his divine touch from opening them and reading the contents inside. He idly presses his thumb against the outline of the mask, watching as the slate cracks and crumbles, before dissipating into white fragments of light that dissipate from view. The writing of the tablet glows white against the smooth black surface, and the King begins to read.

“Lively Crossroads: Temperature was around 72 degrees, with a mild breeze coming in from up above. A minor confrontation broke out involving two drunken pill bugs outside of a tavern, one of them being arrested while another was sent to the local hospital for minor wounds and cracks to the shell. A family of newcomers were properly settled down into their homes, and repairs had to be made to several street signs after being dented inwards by a group of rowdy adolescents.”

The King couldn’t help but hum to himself as he read over the transcript, giving it a once over at least two or three more times before finally setting it down, deciding that nothing in the Crossroads needed his attention as of this moment. Nothing needed to be fixed, no crimes needed to be judged, all the subjects seemed relatively happy, going about their daily lives. Perfect.  He picks up the second tablet, repeating the unsealing process and beginning to read once again.

“Greenpath Gardens: Temperature around a steady 86°, with a light fog surrounding the Lake Of Unn. Gardeners are hard at work taking care of the various fauna, including the lilies and the tulips. There was a small breach in one of pipes in the north-west side of the Gardens, in which the acid had eaten away at the surface of said pipe, which had rusted due to what seems to be negligence in cleaning duties. No one was greatly injured, however one of the Menderbugs was sent to the City hospital for minor acid burns.”

The King couldn’t help but curl his lip in a soft sneer, not out of anger or disgust, but simply irritation. The damnable acidic liquid was a rather unavoidable aspect of the Kingdom, and one he couldn’t help but need to work his way around. He had his suspicions that the acid originated in the depths of the Fungal Wastes, where the spores of the mushrooms and the chemicals of the soil somehow mix into the water pouring in from underground streams, creating some kind of foul reaction that causes the water to turn acidic, which in turn begins to leak into other areas of the kingdom. He would’ve sent Menderbugs to attempt to plug up the water, perhaps work on making pipes that would funnel the water into other sections of the kingdom, but he had a suspicion that the mushrooms subsisted entirely off of this bubbling broth, and the Mantises wouldn’t exactly take kindly to their home lands being slowly killed off due to starvation. Best to not ruin the treaty, especially one that they worked so hard to forge.

He finally lets out a sigh upon re-reading the last section, before making a mental note to have one of his advisors send a message to the managers of the Gardens; he wanted to make sure that they covered the cost of the injured bug’s medical bill, as well as the broken pipe, if it wasn’t already fixed. The fact that the Report didn’t say was almost unusual. He picks up yet another tablet, but pauses in opening it, looking up from his work to tap a claw against his desk in idle thought before simply nodding to himself in silent agreement. He picks up a hand-held bell off of the surface of his desk, ringing it briskly, at least three times, and there was a small bit of silence before the soft fluttering of wings is heard, and two bright white eyes peek out from beneath a spherical shell. The King merely glances back to his work and undoes the next seal, speaking loud enough so that his creation would hear him. “Go down to the kitchens and bring me my meal.”

The creature doesn’t say a word, and merely disappears out of sight. The King starts to read once more.

“City Of Tears: Temperature around 67° degrees, no winds, and a steady rain throughout the day, week, month, etc. Soldiers had to apprehend a thief that tried to mug one of the citizens in one of the many back alleys of the city, and he is now being held in the capital’s prison. One of the houses over in the Elevated District is in dire need of repairs due to water damage, and several doctors had been seen wandering the City making house calls due to an undetermined sickness, seeming to affect the old and the young.”

That last part immediately grabs the King’s attention, and his claws stiffen. Illnesses were unfortunately common from within the capital’s depths; constant, endless rainfalls tend to soak through even the toughest of metal plating or expensive cloth, so doctors and medical professionals were always busy tackling the common cold and such. Nothing too out of the usual in that regard, but sick subjects wasn’t exactly something he wanted, nor was it something he needed, especially if children were getting ill, as well as the fact that the illness in question had yet to be properly identified. The water damage to that one building was concerning as well, especially since most of them were crafted from stone and glass. Perhaps he would have to have his architects try to figure out a way to more appropriately funnel the rain, to make it so that it wouldn’t lead to such inconvenient problems.

There was also Lurien himself. He had read the Reports for as long as he had bestowed him the title of Watcher, and they were usually much more detailed than this. Much more thorough. It was strange, though it didn’t exactly concern him; he knew Lurien better than anyone, and he knew that the oddity of a bug happened to be somewhat of a workaholic, the type that tended to not rest all that much, and when there is no rest, work tends to get sloppy. Perhaps he ought to pay him a visit, just to see how he’s doing. After all, it’s high time he steps out of the Palace grounds, at least for a little while. Being cooped up for too long was something he could never really tolerate, as vexing as it was, but he couldn’t blame himself for his little quirk; it was nothing more than a primal instinct from his long dead days.

He sees a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye and looks over to see the little creature floating back in again, its beady white eyes narrowing behind its shell, tendrils of black slipping out of the seams, holding up a plate of roasted meat and cooked vegetables, as well as a goblet of sparkling wine. He reaches out to take the platter from the creature, nodding to it before moving to set his dinner on the desk, next to the rest of his unopened Reports. He speaks, barely with any thought in mind, his voice quiet and unassuming. “Thank you.”  

The little Wingsmould floats there, no indication that it heard anything at all, before moving to float away, the tendrils of black slipping back into its core, like they were never there to begin with.

••••

A week passes in the kingdom’s depths, slow and steady, before the King finally realizes that something is wrong. He began to see it in the Reports as the days went by, small, almost inconsequential details, ones that slipped by his grasp and grew to become troublesome problems.

“A Doctor from the City came to the Crossroads to visit a sick child, one who had been displaying several odd symptoms, including sleep deprivation.”

“A bug fell asleep on one of the benches in the Western side of the Garden and began to display what seemed to be sleeping fits. When he was woken up, he seemed delirious, as if not knowing where he was.”

“There was a mining accident over in the Crystal Caverns, one that resulted in the hospitalization of at least 2 miners. A third had sleep-walked and activated a dormant machine, one that the previously mentioned workers had been relaxing on taking their lunch break, and as a result, were nearly crushed under the weight of the pistons. The third bug has been taken into custody at the City prison. The injured bugs are in critical condition.”

That last Report was enough to have him finally decide to get himself involved; it was troublesome enough that this odd phenomenon was somehow occurring amongst the local populace, but the sheer fact it was impacting the focus and the minds of his workers had the potential to be dangerous, especially considering they were responsible for the cogs of the kingdom running smoothly. He could not afford to have this unforeseen affliction getting in the way of his work, the work of the people, and he needed to put a stop to it. Of course, in order to learn how to do such a thing, he first had to learn of this sickness, what it was, and how it worked, how it affected the body of those that were infected, and he needed to learn of it quickly, in order to avoid the potential of this sickness spreading to the populace.

It was his duty as King to analyze and eliminate any possible threats to his kingdom, to his people, and it was a duty that he would see through.

“Send a message to Lurien and Lady Monomon at once. Tell them I wish to discuss a matter of great importance.”

•••

He lets out a sigh, soft and subtle, as he walks along the Pathways to the Archives, an ocean of fog flowing around his feet, his gait regal and refined, just as it always has been, his tail idly twitching beneath his robes. The atmosphere was thick, heavy, and though the path was made of stone, there was evidence of nature growing all across it, patches of dew and moss that felt cold, soft beneath his feet. Bubbles grew out from the flora-laden walls, the ceilings, no doubt due to strange abnormalities of the atmospheric conditions that occurred this deep underground, and he couldn’t help but crane his head up ever so slightly to gaze at a particular one, thicker than the other ones he’s seen, less transparent, more plump, almost...spongy looking in texture, as if there some form of flesh contained within. Perhaps the bubbles were some kind of odd fungus that wrapped its prey up in its own mass to absorb the creature’s organic structure into its own? He wouldn’t put it past Monomon to cultivate such strange creatures, not with her and her scientific wiles.

As if even thinking of its gracious and ambitious mistress was enough to rouse it, the entrance to the Archives was revealed to him, a golden archway of light overrun with the moss and lichen of the canyon, looking as if it hadn’t been touched with a gardener’s shear or trowel in ages, and knowing Monomon, that very well could be the case. He casts one more glance behind him, to check if the equipment was secure, and that his guards from the City were still present, before turning to make his way into the glamorous bronze building, the bubbling and frothing of deadly acid so vigorous that he could feel the vibrations beneath his feet. Even as he walked amongst the narrow tunnel of the Archives’s entrance, he could hear distant conversation, the tone loud, one sounding much more irritated than the other, and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh and shake his head. Right from the start of his reign those two always seemed to be at each other’s throats, and it seemed that would never change. In a way, it was amusing, heavily so, (were circumstances different, he gladly would’ve sat back to watch) but it still didn’t change the fact that now was not the time for a petty squabble. He could begin to make out the words now, slowly walking closer, seeing the dark figures of his two closest disciples illuminated from the glow of the acidic pipes.

“And you’re absolutely certain that your experiments won’t end up causing any unnecessary deaths?”

“Oh don’t be silly! Whatever gave you such an outlandish idea? Like my precious creations could even hurt a lumafly.”

“Are you not aware that I see your so-called progress on these...things, and how they have a tendency to literally explode?”

“Oh, pfft! How cares about a little rattling of the pipes or two?”

“I do! And you should too! I know you have an odd tendency to bathe in this horrid acid, but I’ll have you know that most bugs die when coming into contact with it! And those are just the lucky ones!”

“...Ok, I will admit that there are a few...quirks, to the Ooma’s designs..”

“Quirks is putting it lightly, Monomon. Very lightly.”

“It’s nothing I can’t figure out. It’s probably an instability in their inner cores, some type of chemical reaction or rapid increase in pressure that causes it to react so violently.”

“I certainly hope you’re right. I wouldn’t want to send in a Report to the King about how the entire Canyon is flooding with acid because your Archives got blown up.”

The King finally reaches the end of the tunnel, walking into the main room, one of his hands slipping free from his cloak to lift to his mouth, letting out a soft clearing of the throat, the guards behind him immediately freezing to a stop and moving to position themselves on either side of the doorway. “Ehem. If you don’t mind, I’d like to bring this conversation to a different topic.”

Both Monomon and Lurien blink upon seeing their ruler, the former half-submerged in a vat of acid, the rim of the tank level with that of the floor, her upper tendrils resting against it, while the latter was standing at least a few feet away, his robes sparkling with that of gemstones and glamour, clearly having adopted the look from the nobles of the City. Monomon was the first one of the two to speak, her mask shifting into that of a grin, one of her tendrils lifting up to give the King a soft pat to the forehead, the sensation warm, almost slimy, with the slightest hint of an electric tingle. “Oh, terribly sorry, King. I just got a wee bit distracted is all while we were waiting for you to arrive. My little creations have been coming along nicely, and I suspect that by the end of the year, this Canyon could be a living electrical network!”

“You mean living time bombs.” Lurien shakes his head, his mask remaining as passive as always.

King merely lifts a hand to take Monomon’s tendril in his claws, giving it a soft squeeze before letting go. “That is pleasant to hear, Monomon, though it is best that we end that topic as of right now. Currently, as far as I know, the unexplained sickness has begun to build within the populace of the kingdom, and I need to see to it that I cure it.” His gaze shifts to that of Lurien. “Tell me, are there any new cases in any of the sections of the kingdom?”

His gaze peers into that of the King for a moment before he tilts his head up, and the small hole that’s been cut into the polished white surface of the mask begins to glow, the faint whispers of divinity beginning to fill the air. It was a sight that was both familiar and yet also not, and he felt the slightest of tugs within his being as Lurien’s blessing began to bloom to life once more. He merely watches, the dim memories of bestowing the blessing upon his second disciple, of flooding his body with his own divinity, his piercing bright light, flickering at the back of the King’s mind like a dying ember. Those times were somehow simpler, in all of it’s endless chaos, though they were days the King did not wish to revisit.

Finally, Lurien’s head lowers, and his expression somehow gains a more rigid look despite the mask never once shifting or changing. “...Two more cases as we speak, in the Crossroads. Two kids, one 10 years old, the other one 6.”

The King’s hands clench, his knuckles growing tight, before he turns to face the guards, giving them a stern nod. They silently drag forth a golden box in front of the two advisors, plated on all sides, marked with a large key hole, and place the key in the King’s now outstretched hand, before exiting the building in its entirety, never once looking back. Monomon went still, her mask tilting never so slightly, her tendrils curling in on themselves slowly, her voice slightly more quiet than usual. “..So, we’re starting off with that method, are we?”

The King merely moves to place the key in the lock. “No. This is merely a check-up; the doctors in the City are only experienced with minor illnesses or a cracked shell. They won’t know how to deal with this new sickness, not unless the information on how to do so is sought out and spread. And the only way to do that, is to examine an infected individual.”

He turns the key, swiftly, and the plating falls away with a loud clatter to reveal a beetle, no cloth to be seen on his body, his limbs bound in white chains, securing his arms behind his back, rendering him incapable of struggling. The bug didn’t make a single noise, and merely looked downwards, his expression looking vacant, with just the sheer vestiges of guilt dwelling within his eyes. Monomon slowly raises herself up on her tendrils, the tank she was submerged in rippling and sloshing, waves of acid spilling down the sides of the metal to drop to the floor, though she paid no mind to it. Instead, she merely lowered her mask closer to the face of the bug, and she went silent for a few moments. “..This bug is infected, is he?”

The King watches, his own expression growing steely, almost cold. “Indeed. He worked in the Upper Sector of the Mines, when he had fallen asleep. Apparently, in his sleep, he activated a machine that ended up nearly killing two of his coworkers.”

“...A sleep-induced sickness? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Neither have I. And that’s what troubles me.“

Lurien slowly walks forward as well, bending down to stare the bug in the face, his expression unreadable beneath his mask. “...So, you called the both of us here to examine this fellow?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“Do we have any limits on what exactly we can do?”

The King lets out a sigh, lifting a hand to rub at his forehead, swearing he could feel a headache about to come on. “You cannot kill him, nor can you perform any acts towards his body that requires cutting him open.”

“But taking a look at all of the inner organs would be a viable way to examine how this virus operates.”

“For once, Lurien and I agree.” Monomon leans back to glance between the two of them, and when the King gives her a sharp glance, her mask twists into that of a sheepish look. “..From a scientific standpoint, it would make more sense. The flesh is going to show wear and tear from fending off the sickness, especially if it’s theoretically induced by sleeping.”

The King’s headache grows, and he can’t help but let out a groan, shaking his head in exasperation. “....You understand that cutting open my subjects is the exact opposite of protecting them, yes?”

“Of course, but we also understand that just looking him over from the outside won’t do much good.” Lurien shifts, and his hand lifts free from his robes to put a hand on King’s shoulder. “This might be the only way we can go about things.”

“You haven’t even tried yet.” The King’s hand comes up to rest upon his Watcher’s, but his gaze is unwavering.

“We don’t need to try, King. That’s the thing.”

Before the King can reply, the bug lifts his head to gaze at his mighty ruler, and shakes his head. “...I...I don’t want to hurt someone again.”

All three of them turn their heads to glance at the forlorn man, and Monomon is the first to speak. “..You think it can happen again? Your... sleep walking?”

The bug nods, softly. “I know it will. It…It’s been happening for a while. My... My sleep, I mean. It... It’s been weird..”

“How so?” The King steps forward, eyes narrowing in thought, in suspicion.

The bug visibly flinches away, a faint twitch of involuntary reflex, and his eyes show of both fear and awe all at once, and his voice, already hoarse and soft, starts to crack. “I...W-Well, the thing is...I never dreamt. Never had a dream once in my life. Just...I j-just fall asleep and wake up. But, at least a week ago, m-maybe two, I started dreaming. D-Dreaming of this...I-I don’t even know what it is...All I know is that it’s bright and hot and...and strong and...” He starts to shake, and his eyes start to fog over. “It...It..It’s in my head..It..It won’t go away...”

The King couldn’t help but stare for a moment at this, and a moment was already too long. He feels his knuckles clench under his robes, his tail quiver, and he straightens his spine, taking one deep breath, two, before finally speaking once more. “...Are you sure you want this? This can likely mean your death. Surely dreams aren’t worth that of death.”

The bug’s eyes snap back into focus after at least a moment or two of breathing, and he shakes his head, rapidly. “No, no, I want this. Do it. Kill me, tear me open, do anything you want. If it means ridding me of these dreams, of that horrible..That horrible...” He shudders, a full-body quaking that leaves the chains rattling like an unsteady pebble that’s about to fall from the lip of a cliff, his voice rising in volume, in desperation. “Do it, for the good of the King, for the good of Hallownest, do it! If this is an illness, I...I need you to find it! Find it and kill it! Before it gets the chance to hurt anyone else!”

The King finds himself unable to say a word, turning his head to glance at both of his disciples, to judge their reactions. Monomon was looking the slightest bit disturbed under her mask, her tendrils tensing and clenching in a nervous, almost skittish manner, while Lurien simply watched the whole exchange, his face forever covered within the depths of his mask, his head shifting to stare into his  King’s eyes. He slowly nods, as does Monomon, and no words are spoken. None needed to be. The King tried to keep his gait as impeccable as it always was, even as he heard Monomon call for her assistant, even as Lurien began to question the Teacher where she kept her tools. He never looked back.

When he was sure that no eyes were watching him, no eyes were perceiving him, he stumbled, sagging against the wall, as if he had just been struck by a fatal blow, lifting his hands to his face to see that they were shaking, shaking and trembling like a gods-damned child. He had just watched a bug, teetering on the scalpel’s edge of his own sanity, cry and beg for death, to be cut open and have his guts ripped out of his bleeding husk. Something within that sickness had contorted his mind, his thoughts, his very being until death seemed like a blessing, until he found himself staring into the figurative abyss and jumped head first into it.

And all he, the King, could do was sit there and watch. Sit there and let it happen. That bug, insane as he was, in essence, gave his life for him. For him and the glory of his kingdom. And all he did was walk away.

His hands clench.

...No. No, he could not let this cloud him. Cloud his mind. It was just...It was just one simple procedure. One bug. One sacrifice, for the sake of untold lives saved. That infected body had chosen his fate, chosen to die, chosen to sacrifice. He could do nothing to change that, and as his duty as King, he needed to focus his mind to the future. He could not show weakness. This was all it was. A momentary bout of weakness. A momentary cost.

His claws clenched so hard he could feel the soft shell of his palms creak, before he finally took a deep breath, and his emotions fell, cast down by unseen blades. Then he began to walk once more.

Not even a day later, he had received a Report from his Watcher, one that he had left alone for hours before finally opening.

“The Miner was examined with a simple glance over at first, and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. He looked and seemed completely healthy, aside from a slight fatigued look to the carapace beneath his eyes, and his jittery, skittish nature. Monomon’s assistant first took blood in an effort to see if there was any visible contamination, any oddities, and when, finally, the operation was made. His organs were worn, slightly so, as if put under significant stress, but aside from that, there was nothing. The sickness, as far as we know, is completely invisible to our eyes. My only question to you, My King, is this.

What do we do?”

[sundimus]

Request for Compy! 1. “No, come back!” / Herrah and Hornet /// Hornet wakes in a dream unlike any other.

She looks around at a place she’s never been before. There are dark clouds surrounding the area, floating pedestals as far as one could see, and large arches of what appears to be some unknown bug’s horns ominously looming in the distance. Hundreds and thousands of essence float idly around her. They don’t feel like anything when she touches one, and disappears immediately upon being disturbed. She hops from pedestal to pedestal, the clouds parting away when she gets close, almost as if they were sentient and trying stealthily to lead her somewhere. She jumps to an opening that is almost hidden in the clouds, and immediately spots a figure standing towards the edge of it. The person was very tall, sort of imposing, but that wasn’t what was important to Hornet at the moment. What was important was that she recognized this figure. Her recognition is built into her, a part of her, something that she will never not know, and based on the soft look they give her in return, they recognize her too. “Mom?” She whispers the word, and it floats away from her slowly, deliberately, with no way to catch it. “Daughter... My miracle of life,” Herrah says back, Hornet feeling shock run through her at the sound of her voice. That was the first thing that had escaped her memory about her mother, and she never thought she’d hear it again. She watches closely as Herrah steps towards her, close enough for her to place a hand on her shoulder, and it takes all she can to not cry right then and there. “My, how you have grown,” Herrah muses, her voice continuing to echo around the dream. Hornet’s own voice fails her, and all she can do is grasp her mother’s hand with her own in a desperate attempt to touch her again for once in years. This is the first time she’s dreamed of Herrah since her childhood - and while a part of her knows this is nothing but a mere dream and fantasy, another part of her wishes that this was as real as it feels. Herrah continues talking, paying no mind to the silence she has been given. “We cannot speak for long, and I must go very soon, but I need you to know that I love you. I always have; I always will. That will never change. Whenever you take a glimpse of a shadow or a fallen leaf, I want you to think of me, and when you do you will no longer be alone. I will always be with you, my precious one.” She hugs Hornet comfortingly then, holding her close in a loving grasp. Hornet leans into the touch, wrapping her arms around her tightly in return. She focuses on Herrah’s words as hard as she can, but it’s difficult when most of her attention is on how soft and warm her embrace is. She’s missed this. She’s been cold for a very long time. Herrah looks up at something only she can see, and Hornet can feel her sighing more than she can hear it. She knows this is the end of the dream, but she doesn’t want to let go. She’s barely had any time, she doesn’t even have a chance. “It’s time, my young one.” please no. “I must go.” not yet. “I’m sorry.” No, come back, come back to me. Herrah leans back first, placing her hands on Hornet’s shoulders, and stares directly at her. “You’ll be alright. I promise you this.” Hornet almost doesn’t want to believe her, not when their reunion was so short, not when she’s leaving again so soon. “I’ll be alright.” She settles for agreeing. There’s nothing else she can do. “You will. I have written it in stone.” The ground beneath them starts rumbling, and Hornet can feel herself start to wake up. “I have to leave now. I love you, Hornet, and I miss you. Always.” “I love you too, mom.” Her sentence comes out choked, and she already knows she’ll curse herself later for wasting her chance and failing to tell her mother everything she’s always wanted to say. She watches helplessly as Herrah fades away, the edges of her vision turning white and bright. She wakes up slowly in Greenpath, not yet knowing that she had just experienced the last dream she’ll ever have.