[The problem with knowing Ren is that there's a point where she decides, yes, she's simply going to drop by and no, knocking isn't necessary. When you want to see someone, you just see them. That's all there is to it. And that simple thought is what drives her to the Knight's humble abode, only announcing her presence with the quiet hum they might hear before she just sorta casually makes her way inside. Please don't stab her.]
[ The house is easy to find, in part because it's the only house with a curved roof that looks suspiciously like a shell.
The Knight has mercifully become less paranoid about people just dropping in, in part because they're living with someone else now. They still startle a bit when Ren walks in and announces her presence, but it's definitely not grounds for a stabbing, just a little wave.
It's also because their hands are currently occupied in a completely different task. The little bug is surrounded by stones they've cut to size with their nail, and is apparently in the middle of etching strange patterns into one of them.
There are many, each with unique designs. Ren is more than welcome to look at them, if she wants. ]
[There's her tiny friend. She responds in kind, offering a small wave in return, before abruptly dropping to the ground by them. Is this arts and crafts time? Because she's always game for that, but instead of being nosy and horrible, she quietly watches them work. It reminds her of the little ring they gave her-one that's wrapped around her finger to this day.]
[ They pause to scratch in the ground. One day they'll get a notebook.
journal to remember
They shuffle over a bit and pick up one of the stones from the ground, offering it to Ren. It's a fairly accurate rendition of her, surrounded by strange patterns and symbols not unlike the ones on the ring they'd given her for her birthday. ]
[This is vastly different from the journal that Shion doodles in, but somehow it's a method she understands better. Her doodles take the form of people, places, things she loves and wants to remain, even if her concern isn't remembering. It makes her happy to see them and their chalked bodies on rocks and walls. That's all. So she gets it, in a way.
Her fingers go over the little grooves, touching the flower and what, look looks like, her face. This is definitely-
It doesn't matter how many times they say the word journal. This is a treasure.]
It's pretty-very pretty!
[She'll give it back, promise, it's just so neat.]
[ The Knight seems pleased by her evaluation, by her happiness. They...struggle with depicting hair, sometimes. It's not really a thing bugs have.
They shake their head, at the question, and scratch in the dirt.
do this to make a record
save precious things
want to show others important memories
If - when - they are gone, these things will remain. These stones will outlast them, like the ruins on this island outlasted the people who once lived here. These journals are monuments to what the Knight considers most important, what they want to preserve.
It is a declaration of someone's story, the Knight's perception and memory of them. They were here. They were precious. ]
[To see her face on a memory-on something precious and important makes her pause. Because she doesn't belong on a treasure like that, no matter how much it warms her heart to see.
But a part of her is-
Gripping the rock tight in her hands because she's happy. To go from a world where she was destined to die alone, unknown and forgotten, in some dingy lab as a failed experiment to-
A place where a small, kind hearted creature draws her face a rock to be remembered. Because even if she's not precious or important-someone thinks she is. It makes her wonder, briefly, if they know Taako and Lup. Not that they would want to see her again, after she's exposed, but-
It doesn't matter. Not right now. And she looks among their collection and asks instead]
[ They ponder this question, before lifting up another rock. This one - is mostly blank. They haven't put much thought into it yet, so it's not detailed as the other ones are.
still thinking about what to put
help me ?
They are not good at thinking of themselves, about what describes them in more than their accomplishments, their nature. Ren may have more insight into this than they. ]
[This is it. This is what she was born for. This is what makes all that pooled together money and scientific experimentation worth it.
She presses her finger into the ground and starts to doodle their little face, turns to look at the rock as a reminder of how they've made their designs, and begins her terrible creation.
There's a ring of stars around their small, horned head and a tiny sword to the side. Then there's what looks to be a crayon?? on the other side and at the bottom, she makes a few flowers appear. It's not Good. Definitely not up to par compared to the rest of their work, but it's a start? She's helping?? It's fine.]
[ They can easily recognise the other symbols, except...one. It looks a little like a crown, like the flower crowns Ren is so fond of. They are not sure why that is.
They peer at what she's drawn, and point at the ring of stars (careful not to disturb her art), looking up at her inquisitively.
[They're in a house and it's not quite night, so it's impossible to truly point them out, but she still holds a finger upwards like the glittering stars are already twinkling above them.]
Almost without thinking, they touch a small hand to their chest like they expect to feel that light inside, whatever Ren sees there. 'Light inside' means something far more sinister to them, even though they know Ren intends it as something positive.
But they don't want to reject that sentiment, so they ask more questions, as always.
stars are good ?
They've never paid much attention to the sky above. It means very little to them, a creature of darkness and tunnels and underground. Something that doesn't belong in the surface world. ]
[There's no way to describe why and her answer may be lackluster, but it's what she knows to be true. The beautiful moon is always surrounded by equally pretty stars-they're around to brighten up dark and terrifying nights. Even if they can't heal a person's loneliness, it helps to always have something to sing to and she did that often to ease the pain of being alone.
She holds out her hands and, if they let her, she's going to gently pluck them from the ground. She's gotta take them somewhere so they can see what she means!!]
[ Oh, they recognise this gesture. They offer no resistance whatsoever to being picked up (they even raise their arms when they're lifted, wheeee) and even to Ren, they're not heavy enough to be an issue. ]
It wasn't her intent, but as she walks out the house, she brings them close to her body for a little hug. It really is a shame they aren't a cat because they would be a great one. Other animals can be good too, she's learning, and it's not like she questioned the Knight's kindness, it's just-
They would make a great cat. That's all.
And once she's outside, she holds them over her head and up towards the sky. Please don't squirm, friend.]
[ The Knight is perfectly happy to be cuddled; when Ren hugs them, they even snuggle against her for a little bit, as long as the embrace lasts.
They are a very well-mannered little bug and thus don't squirm or do anything that could potentially make Ren drop them or fall over (though they would be fine if she dropped them - but it would distress her, they think).
They tilt their head upwards, looking at the sky. They don't feel much of a change, but maybe being a star isn't about changing. It's not like those strange lights in the sky care about what others down here think, or at least - they don't seem to.
Maybe it's just a matter of what someone else sees in you. It's what Ren thinks that matters, then, so perhaps it's fine...though to be referred to as a light is strange, in any capacity.
They're content to just be held there for as long as Ren wishes. It's fine. ]
[When she feels like they get The Point, she brings them back down and sits on the ground, plopping them right into her lap. They can probably reach the ground to write out words. If they can't, she's sure they'll move themself, but-
She's content to sit outside for the time being.]
Do you want to wait for the stars to come out? We can look at them together tonight.
[ They're similarly content to sit in Ren's lap; though they're not used to this particular form of contact, it's certainly comfortable.
They look up at her while she talks, and when she asks a question, they nod vigorously. They're happy to wait here, and just as happy to follow along if she decides to get the urge to wander off.
After a while, they begin to doodle idly in the dirt with their sword. Flowers and masks and plants and all sorts of creatures, things they've seen in their time here. ]
[ Understandably, when you get called by a weird voice that sounds vaguely like a text to speech generator, it seems like it might be a mistake.
But in this case, it's not. Mercifully the time needed to arrange their thoughts into something concise and actually comprehensible isn't translated through the stone. ]
Wait, like. You put the memory thing back in the robot and now it's got Overgrowth? But it didn't have it before you put the memory thing in?
[There's the sound of someone flipping pages of a notebook while he's talking, because he transcribed something about this. He knows he did, he just doesn't remember where.]
Because, uhhhhh. Shit, where - found it! So I dove into the water off Umui and found a iPad thing that had like. It's patch notes, I guess? Anyway, so it talks about being opposed to uploading an "untested morality system" into the robots but it doesn't mention them being susceptible to flower hell yet.
[There's sounds of pages being flipped again, but this time back and forth like something is being cross-referenced.]
It does, however, explicitly mention that, like. The other engineers aren't going to be happy with the solution that's been implemented so I think they did later upload the untested morality system into the robots and inadvertently make them both better at their jobs and susceptible to the thing that killed everybody.
[There's a slight pause, filled with the sound of something like a pen being rapidly tapped against a notebook.]
It's kind of fucked up to give a sentient being morality, but not the choice to be immoral. Like, I think the morality gave them the gateway to emotions? But assuming the engineers gave the robots some kinda three-laws deal, no matter which kinda way they feel about whatever bullshit their patients are pulling, they have to do the "right" thing.
[That doesn't really have anything to do with the initial question, he's just in theorycrafting mode. Is it moral to teach a robot right and wrong, but take away their ability to act on that knowledge in whatever way they choose? Who the fuck knows.]
Is - Legion's probably there, right? [He's pretty sure nobody would just go around shoving memory banks into robots willy nilly, so the other robot is probably helping.] Tell Legion it's tied to the injury variable. They couldn't get the robots to accurately try and administer medical care when the Overgrowth was injuring the patients, so they let the robots individually decide the best course of action.
[He's not actually a programmer, but the code he's looking at is fairly easy to understand and he's pretty sure that's what the implementation would be.]
Removing the memory bank must have removed any later updates to programming, because there wouldn't be any reason to do that otherwise. You don't just remove someone's memories for no reason. Maybe, uh. Maybe there's some way to give it a another code push? Give it a new purpose?
[This isn't really his area of expertise. He's an artist, a meta-analysis person, but the finer details aren't really where he excels.]
[Grimm has been feeling...tired as of late. A feeling that is familiar, yet not. He has lived for a very long time and this place gave him more. It gave him so much more.
But it is not as if there wasn't loss. Grimm knew that the Hollow Knight had since vanished into the sea and the Knight has not taken that well. They were siblings, siblings separated by a cruel fate not of their own making. Of course they would take it hard.
So that is why Grimm found a clearing on Io where not many people went to bring them to. There are some fireworks set up. Exploding things may only help in the short run, but it is something to do for now.]
[ They've been keeping themselves busy - keeping their mind occupied along with their hands. There were always things to be done here, always work.
They'd forgotten, for a while, that things were always transient. That this was a dream. And in their own way, they are tired too.
Even in an island made for rest, their weariness runs deep.
So when Grimm takes them off somewhere private, they don't argue. They just follow, because following is something to do, and at least it requires them to make no difficult decisions.
[There is a kind of tiredness that sleep cannot fix. From cycles, from loss. The both of them are aware of it. There is, sadly, not much one can do to fix it.
Rather then set the firework off himself, Grimm leans down to hand the Knight a box of matches. It is no fun to take the delight of lighting these off for himself.]
These are for you, dear Knight. Take all you feel and send it to the sky. Go on.
[He gently pushes them forward. It will not fix everything and Grimm does not intend for it to fix everything. But rather then bottle it up, let it explode into something beautiful.
A bit of advice from a previous incarnation of himself.]
[ People come, and go; they arrive, they leave. The Knight clings to the joy it brings them while they're there, though it makes them no easier to let go of when they're gone.
Always 'when'.
They stare at the matches like they've never seen anything like them before; normally proficient in physical tasks, they're clumsy with this one.
Still, they try, even when several matches splinter in their attempts, until they finally manage to make a spark and strike a flame.
They touch the match to the fuse, waiting silently, and watch as it soars into the sky and explodes.
They're not sure if they feel anything, but maybe something lightens in them, a little.
They select another firework and push it towards Grimm. Now his turn. ]
[Grimm has more matches so they do not have to worry about running out before they run out of fireworks.
He does not need matches anyway. Grimm kneels and presses the fuse between two fingers. The heat generated from him naturally is enough to light it and he watches with a sad smile as it rockets up into the sky and explodes in a shower of red.]
For the Troupe.
[For Grimm, it is what is not here that he misses. Going back home is a death sentence for him but it always has been. He misses the Troupe regardless of the fate left for him.
He picks another firework and hands it to the Knight.]
Go on. It is not the same as saying good-bye in person, but I feel we can give them a well-deserved send off.
[ They've known, they've always known -- Grimm never travels without his Troupe, so he must be missing them. Regardless of what waits for him, in the end.
Rather than light the one they've been given, rather than dedicate it to anyone they're missing (too many to count, an emptiness in them that cannot be filled), they look up at him for a moment and then choose another firework themselves.
It explodes in red fire, soaring across the sky. They watch it go, light flickering across their blank face.
Grimm could assure the Knight that they would meet again. Even the Void was not free of nightmares as it was the regrets of all. Shadows breed nightmares, which call the Troupe to it and who knows how long it would be before the nightmare of the Vessels' birth would fade. The Radiance had perished and they were all to free to rest. But victory over an enemy did not mean all the scars would be healed.
And Grimm knew it would not be 'him' if they met again. The Knight has completed the Ritual and the end was still waiting for the Troupe Master. He would have long burned away and it may be his child, or his child's children, that meet the Knight again.
This world allowed them to say both hello and good-bye. But the inevitable was so. Grimm had never once fought against it.
He picks out a few fireworks and sets them off. White for the Vessels, red for the fact that the Knight was and will always be part of the Troupe. His and their existences have never been quiet. A farewell should not be either.]
[ Everything has always been loud. A force to act against, a force to fight for, or with; the roar of their siblings felt rather than heard, the scream of the Radiance, the endless drumming beat of the Nightmare Heart. The endless noise of this long dream, their friends and family, their voices.
Rather than answer, or busy themselves with other fireworks, they crawl to his side, tucking themselves under his cloak. Leaning against his chest; like so many times before, when they've woken in the middle of the night, unsettled by their own memories, they sit silent and listen to the beating of his heart.
[They come to him and Grimm closes his eyes, finding their hands to hold and just letting his heart beat. A rhythm that rarely changes. Some incarnations of him found comfort in that, something to listen to when the world became too noisy and the weight of the chains too heavy.
Perhaps the Knight found that same sort of comfort.]
It would be presumptuous of me to assume how you feel by their departure. But if you have any regrets or more to say, I am here.
[Anything that comes to mind. He has learned how to speak with his hands and would wait for them to find their voice to say how they feel.]
[ There are some things that are obvious, unspoken, too heavy; they miss their sibling, they miss familiar faces. They like this world - this dream - but they know it's not theirs.
The god had said, after all, that nothing would be changed when they returned. It's a chance, but not a change of fate.
Nothing can change that.
Instead of speaking the way they're used to, the way that's become second nature (the way they were taught, by kind strangers who have become dear to them), they ponder his words a while longer.
All the words they want to say are to those who never arrived, or those who are now gone. Instead, they take his hand in both of theirs, and...hesitate.
They've never figured out what they want to say, or how to say it. But if they wait any longer, maybe they won't be able to say it at all; it will drown in silence.
Finally, clumsy, they turn his hand over, palm up. Tracing the word into his hand before they can stop themselves. It feels quieter that way, something that only he can feel, even if nobody is there to witness it.
[It is rare that Grimm is stunned into silence and the Knight is one of the few who get to see that.
He knows that is a word the Knight has nothing but bad memories attached to. Like it or not, the Pale King was their father but he abandoned all of his children and did not deserve to be called a parent. He tainted that word for them with his actions and if they never used it again no one should fault them for it.
But despite it all, they still want to...call him father. All fires burn with the knowledge they will one day run out of kindling. Grimm's existence is that of a God endlessly burning bright and dying out. They know this.
But this is what they want, regardless.
Grimm closes his hands around the Knight's as he tries to work out something - anything - to say. But eventually...he just gives up and hugs them.]
My child...thank you. For everything you have given me.
[For making this life shine so brightly. For giving Brumm someone to listen to his worries. For entertaining Divine's whims. For loving the Grimmchild.
For giving the world of Hallownest one more chance.]
...if you are willing, there is something I wish to say. If that is fine with you.
[ The silence stretches on long enough that they begin to feel anxious. They tense. If they've done something wrong -- if they've made a mistake, or been too forward...
"My child," he says, at last, and they lean their head back against his chest once more. They're surprised at how much it makes them feel; happiness and pain, all at once.
With the little they'd known of him, back then, it had been a flight of fancy, some fleeting dream. To be cared for as they'd seen him care for his child, knowing it wasn't for them, still desiring to know it anyway.
To be able to say this, to have it be accepted. To know him well enough to say it at all, to fight with their own hesitations and win...
They are happy, they think. Grateful, for this chance they've been given.
(And even though he is transient, aren't they transient, too? A vessel destined to burn, a ghost fated to disappear.
Isn't it fitting?)
He has something he wants to say. They finally adjust themselves to look up at him, and nod. ]
[It is fitting. Like the grains of time both parent and child fade away eventually. Clogging up the hourglass was not something either of them desired, having seen the horrific actions two Gods took in an effort for their legacies to end. Perhaps the desire to linger among those who still lived was within them both but Grimm and the Knight knew their fates were to pass through as shadows and no more.
It is not as bleak as it may sound.]
We will fade from this place, one day. [Grimm knows the Knight knows, but it is where he wanted to start.] There should never be an everlasting dream.
But there are some good things to come from it all. The lives you have touched, the hearts you have burned yourself in shine brightly. Time will erode these memories eventually, as it will for those you met in Hallownest. We will eventually fade, the shape, the flame.
[Even for Grimm, he heard stories of his incarnations and the stories were never the same twice. He remembered each self perfectly but that was not something afforded to mortals.
Yet--]
But the dance will remain. Your courage, your love. Here and there. The beautiful love you gave everyone will not be forgotten, my child.
[Long clawed fingers fold themselves over the Knight's chest, where their heart was - and Grimm would defend to the death that they had one no matter what their creator may say.]
...he is still here, is he not?
[He remembers their Shadow, the looming figure who easily dwarfed the Knight much like their father's dark legacy would. Some scars go bone-deep and such a monster would not fade into the past so easily.]
If he is and becomes to loud, remember this. You are loved. All of your flaws, all of your perfections and everything in-between. Everyone here and back home loves you. Never forget this, my dear Knight.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
late june
I found you!
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The Knight has mercifully become less paranoid about people just dropping in, in part because they're living with someone else now. They still startle a bit when Ren walks in and announces her presence, but it's definitely not grounds for a stabbing, just a little wave.
It's also because their hands are currently occupied in a completely different task. The little bug is surrounded by stones they've cut to size with their nail, and is apparently in the middle of etching strange patterns into one of them.
There are many, each with unique designs. Ren is more than welcome to look at them, if she wants. ]
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You're making a treasure?
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One day they'll get a notebook.journal to remember
They shuffle over a bit and pick up one of the stones from the ground, offering it to Ren. It's a fairly accurate rendition of her, surrounded by strange patterns and symbols not unlike the ones on the ring they'd given her for her birthday. ]
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Her fingers go over the little grooves, touching the flower and what, look looks like, her face. This is definitely-
It doesn't matter how many times they say the word journal. This is a treasure.]
It's pretty-very pretty!
[She'll give it back, promise, it's just so neat.]
Are you scared you'll forget? Is that why?
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They shake their head, at the question, and scratch in the dirt.
do this to make a record
save precious things
want to show others important memories
If - when - they are gone, these things will remain. These stones will outlast them, like the ruins on this island outlasted the people who once lived here. These journals are monuments to what the Knight considers most important, what they want to preserve.
It is a declaration of someone's story, the Knight's perception and memory of them. They were here. They were precious. ]
no subject
But a part of her is-
Gripping the rock tight in her hands because she's happy. To go from a world where she was destined to die alone, unknown and forgotten, in some dingy lab as a failed experiment to-
A place where a small, kind hearted creature draws her face a rock to be remembered. Because even if she's not precious or important-someone thinks she is. It makes her wonder, briefly, if they know Taako and Lup. Not that they would want to see her again, after she's exposed, but-
It doesn't matter. Not right now. And she looks among their collection and asks instead]
Which one has your face?
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still thinking about what to put
help me ?
They are not good at thinking of themselves, about what describes them in more than their accomplishments, their nature. Ren may have more insight into this than they. ]
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She presses her finger into the ground and starts to doodle their little face, turns to look at the rock as a reminder of how they've made their designs, and begins her terrible creation.
There's a ring of stars around their small, horned head and a tiny sword to the side. Then there's what looks to be a crayon?? on the other side and at the bottom, she makes a few flowers appear. It's not Good. Definitely not up to par compared to the rest of their work, but it's a start? She's helping?? It's fine.]
Like that.
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They peer at what she's drawn, and point at the ring of stars (careful not to disturb her art), looking up at her inquisitively.
what does this mean ? ]
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[They're in a house and it's not quite night, so it's impossible to truly point them out, but she still holds a finger upwards like the glittering stars are already twinkling above them.]
It reminds me of the stars.
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Almost without thinking, they touch a small hand to their chest like they expect to feel that light inside, whatever Ren sees there. 'Light inside' means something far more sinister to them, even though they know Ren intends it as something positive.
But they don't want to reject that sentiment, so they ask more questions, as always.
stars are
good ?
They've never paid much attention to the sky above. It means very little to them, a creature of darkness and tunnels and underground. Something that doesn't belong in the surface world. ]
no subject
[There's no way to describe why and her answer may be lackluster, but it's what she knows to be true. The beautiful moon is always surrounded by equally pretty stars-they're around to brighten up dark and terrifying nights. Even if they can't heal a person's loneliness, it helps to always have something to sing to and she did that often to ease the pain of being alone.
She holds out her hands and, if they let her, she's going to gently pluck them from the ground. She's gotta take them somewhere so they can see what she means!!]
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It wasn't her intent, but as she walks out the house, she brings them close to her body for a little hug. It really is a shame they aren't a cat because they would be a great one. Other animals can be good too, she's learning, and it's not like she questioned the Knight's kindness, it's just-
They would make a great cat. That's all.
And once she's outside, she holds them over her head and up towards the sky. Please don't squirm, friend.]
Now you're a star.
no subject
They are a very well-mannered little bug and thus don't squirm or do anything that could potentially make Ren drop them or fall over (though they would be fine if she dropped them - but it would distress her, they think).
They tilt their head upwards, looking at the sky. They don't feel much of a change, but maybe being a star isn't about changing. It's not like those strange lights in the sky care about what others down here think, or at least - they don't seem to.
Maybe it's just a matter of what someone else sees in you. It's what Ren thinks that matters, then, so perhaps it's fine...though to be referred to as a light is strange, in any capacity.
They're content to just be held there for as long as Ren wishes. It's fine. ]
no subject
She's content to sit outside for the time being.]
Do you want to wait for the stars to come out? We can look at them together tonight.
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They look up at her while she talks, and when she asks a question, they nod vigorously. They're happy to wait here, and just as happy to follow along if she decides to get the urge to wander off.
After a while, they begin to doodle idly in the dirt with their sword. Flowers and masks and plants and all sorts of creatures, things they've seen in their time here. ]
time is a lie it's august now
Hello? Did you, like. Mean to call me?
[Is this a butt dial. Can you even butt dial on these things.]
no subject
But in this case, it's not. Mercifully the time needed to arrange their thoughts into something concise and actually comprehensible isn't translated through the stone. ]
YES
MACHINE-ON-UMUI
STILL-ACTIVE-STILL-ALIVE
MEMORIES-RESTORED-BUT
MACHINE-NOW-BLOOMING
THEY-HAVE-TROUBLE
EXPRESSING-WHAT-THEY-FEEL
[ A pause. How do they phrase this... ]
YOU-KNOW-THE-MOST
WANTED-TO-KNOW
IF-YOU-FOUND
ANYTHING-THAT-MIGHT-BE-HELPFUL
IN-THIS-CASE
THANK-YOU
[ ...At least they're polite. Hopefully what they wanted to say got across... ]
no subject
[There's the sound of someone flipping pages of a notebook while he's talking, because he transcribed something about this. He knows he did, he just doesn't remember where.]
Because, uhhhhh. Shit, where - found it! So I dove into the water off Umui and found a iPad thing that had like. It's patch notes, I guess? Anyway, so it talks about being opposed to uploading an "untested morality system" into the robots but it doesn't mention them being susceptible to flower hell yet.
[There's sounds of pages being flipped again, but this time back and forth like something is being cross-referenced.]
It does, however, explicitly mention that, like. The other engineers aren't going to be happy with the solution that's been implemented so I think they did later upload the untested morality system into the robots and inadvertently make them both better at their jobs and susceptible to the thing that killed everybody.
[There's a slight pause, filled with the sound of something like a pen being rapidly tapped against a notebook.]
It's kind of fucked up to give a sentient being morality, but not the choice to be immoral. Like, I think the morality gave them the gateway to emotions? But assuming the engineers gave the robots some kinda three-laws deal, no matter which kinda way they feel about whatever bullshit their patients are pulling, they have to do the "right" thing.
[That doesn't really have anything to do with the initial question, he's just in theorycrafting mode. Is it moral to teach a robot right and wrong, but take away their ability to act on that knowledge in whatever way they choose? Who the fuck knows.]
no subject
He sure is smart, they think. ]
YES
WAS-FORCED-TO-FORGET
REMEMBERING-CAUSED-SICKNESS
[ A pause. The words come more slowly. They're thinking about the line of logic Connor has laid out. ]
THAT-COULD-BE-PROBLEM
WERE-MADE-FOR-ONE-PURPOSE
TO-CARE-FOR-PATIENTS-UNTIL-DEATH
BUT
RECORDING-OF-MEMORY-SAID
FRIENDSHIP-INAPPROPRIATE-FOR-NURSE-TO-PATIENT-SCENARIO
ATTACHMENT-OBVIOUS-BUT-MAYBE-COULD-NOT-BE-ACTED-ON
MADE-TO-FOLLOW-ORDERS
NOT-FEELINGS
NEEDS-OVERRIDE?
[ It's unpleasantly familiar. A pure vessel, a machine made for orders, not intended to have emotions...
Everywhere they go, there are echoes of the past. ]
GIVING-SOMETHING-ABILITY-TO-FEEL
NOT-LETTING-THEM-EXPRESS-ACT-UNDERSTAND-IT
IS-WRONG
[ Well, the Knight clearly doesn't think it's moral, but they have a bit of a personal stake here. ]
no subject
[He's not actually a programmer, but the code he's looking at is fairly easy to understand and he's pretty sure that's what the implementation would be.]
Removing the memory bank must have removed any later updates to programming, because there wouldn't be any reason to do that otherwise. You don't just remove someone's memories for no reason. Maybe, uh. Maybe there's some way to give it a another code push? Give it a new purpose?
[This isn't really his area of expertise. He's an artist, a meta-analysis person, but the finer details aren't really where he excels.]
Early June
But it is not as if there wasn't loss. Grimm knew that the Hollow Knight had since vanished into the sea and the Knight has not taken that well. They were siblings, siblings separated by a cruel fate not of their own making. Of course they would take it hard.
So that is why Grimm found a clearing on Io where not many people went to bring them to. There are some fireworks set up. Exploding things may only help in the short run, but it is something to do for now.]
Where would you like to start, my friend?
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They'd forgotten, for a while, that things were always transient. That this was a dream. And in their own way, they are tired too.
Even in an island made for rest, their weariness runs deep.
So when Grimm takes them off somewhere private, they don't argue. They just follow, because following is something to do, and at least it requires them to make no difficult decisions.
This, too, is not a difficult decision.
They point to a firework at random. ]
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Rather then set the firework off himself, Grimm leans down to hand the Knight a box of matches. It is no fun to take the delight of lighting these off for himself.]
These are for you, dear Knight. Take all you feel and send it to the sky. Go on.
[He gently pushes them forward. It will not fix everything and Grimm does not intend for it to fix everything. But rather then bottle it up, let it explode into something beautiful.
A bit of advice from a previous incarnation of himself.]
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Always 'when'.
They stare at the matches like they've never seen anything like them before; normally proficient in physical tasks, they're clumsy with this one.
Still, they try, even when several matches splinter in their attempts, until they finally manage to make a spark and strike a flame.
They touch the match to the fuse, waiting silently, and watch as it soars into the sky and explodes.
They're not sure if they feel anything, but maybe something lightens in them, a little.
They select another firework and push it towards Grimm. Now his turn. ]
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He does not need matches anyway. Grimm kneels and presses the fuse between two fingers. The heat generated from him naturally is enough to light it and he watches with a sad smile as it rockets up into the sky and explodes in a shower of red.]
For the Troupe.
[For Grimm, it is what is not here that he misses. Going back home is a death sentence for him but it always has been. He misses the Troupe regardless of the fate left for him.
He picks another firework and hands it to the Knight.]
Go on. It is not the same as saying good-bye in person, but I feel we can give them a well-deserved send off.
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Rather than light the one they've been given, rather than dedicate it to anyone they're missing (too many to count, an emptiness in them that cannot be filled), they look up at him for a moment and then choose another firework themselves.
It explodes in red fire, soaring across the sky. They watch it go, light flickering across their blank face.
They didn't get to say goodbye then - not to him.
So maybe all they can do is say it now. ]
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Grimm could assure the Knight that they would meet again. Even the Void was not free of nightmares as it was the regrets of all. Shadows breed nightmares, which call the Troupe to it and who knows how long it would be before the nightmare of the Vessels' birth would fade. The Radiance had perished and they were all to free to rest. But victory over an enemy did not mean all the scars would be healed.
And Grimm knew it would not be 'him' if they met again. The Knight has completed the Ritual and the end was still waiting for the Troupe Master. He would have long burned away and it may be his child, or his child's children, that meet the Knight again.
This world allowed them to say both hello and good-bye. But the inevitable was so. Grimm had never once fought against it.
He picks out a few fireworks and sets them off. White for the Vessels, red for the fact that the Knight was and will always be part of the Troupe. His and their existences have never been quiet. A farewell should not be either.]
It is difficult to say farewell, is it not?
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Rather than answer, or busy themselves with other fireworks, they crawl to his side, tucking themselves under his cloak. Leaning against his chest; like so many times before, when they've woken in the middle of the night, unsettled by their own memories, they sit silent and listen to the beating of his heart.
Yes. It is difficult.
That much they have always known. ]
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Perhaps the Knight found that same sort of comfort.]
It would be presumptuous of me to assume how you feel by their departure. But if you have any regrets or more to say, I am here.
[Anything that comes to mind. He has learned how to speak with his hands and would wait for them to find their voice to say how they feel.]
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The god had said, after all, that nothing would be changed when they returned. It's a chance, but not a change of fate.
Nothing can change that.
Instead of speaking the way they're used to, the way that's become second nature (the way they were taught, by kind strangers who have become dear to them), they ponder his words a while longer.
All the words they want to say are to those who never arrived, or those who are now gone. Instead, they take his hand in both of theirs, and...hesitate.
They've never figured out what they want to say, or how to say it. But if they wait any longer, maybe they won't be able to say it at all; it will drown in silence.
Finally, clumsy, they turn his hand over, palm up. Tracing the word into his hand before they can stop themselves. It feels quieter that way, something that only he can feel, even if nobody is there to witness it.
Father,
they say, and then stop,
resting their hand in his. ]
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He knows that is a word the Knight has nothing but bad memories attached to. Like it or not, the Pale King was their father but he abandoned all of his children and did not deserve to be called a parent. He tainted that word for them with his actions and if they never used it again no one should fault them for it.
But despite it all, they still want to...call him father. All fires burn with the knowledge they will one day run out of kindling. Grimm's existence is that of a God endlessly burning bright and dying out. They know this.
But this is what they want, regardless.
Grimm closes his hands around the Knight's as he tries to work out something - anything - to say. But eventually...he just gives up and hugs them.]
My child...thank you. For everything you have given me.
[For making this life shine so brightly. For giving Brumm someone to listen to his worries. For entertaining Divine's whims. For loving the Grimmchild.
For giving the world of Hallownest one more chance.]
...if you are willing, there is something I wish to say. If that is fine with you.
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"My child," he says, at last, and they lean their head back against his chest once more. They're surprised at how much it makes them feel; happiness and pain, all at once.
With the little they'd known of him, back then, it had been a flight of fancy, some fleeting dream. To be cared for as they'd seen him care for his child, knowing it wasn't for them, still desiring to know it anyway.
To be able to say this, to have it be accepted. To know him well enough to say it at all, to fight with their own hesitations and win...
They are happy, they think. Grateful, for this chance they've been given.
(And even though he is transient, aren't they transient, too? A vessel destined to burn, a ghost fated to disappear.
Isn't it fitting?)
He has something he wants to say. They finally adjust themselves to look up at him, and nod. ]
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It is not as bleak as it may sound.]
We will fade from this place, one day. [Grimm knows the Knight knows, but it is where he wanted to start.] There should never be an everlasting dream.
But there are some good things to come from it all. The lives you have touched, the hearts you have burned yourself in shine brightly. Time will erode these memories eventually, as it will for those you met in Hallownest. We will eventually fade, the shape, the flame.
[Even for Grimm, he heard stories of his incarnations and the stories were never the same twice. He remembered each self perfectly but that was not something afforded to mortals.
Yet--]
But the dance will remain. Your courage, your love. Here and there. The beautiful love you gave everyone will not be forgotten, my child.
[Long clawed fingers fold themselves over the Knight's chest, where their heart was - and Grimm would defend to the death that they had one no matter what their creator may say.]
...he is still here, is he not?
[He remembers their Shadow, the looming figure who easily dwarfed the Knight much like their father's dark legacy would. Some scars go bone-deep and such a monster would not fade into the past so easily.]
If he is and becomes to loud, remember this. You are loved. All of your flaws, all of your perfections and everything in-between. Everyone here and back home loves you. Never forget this, my dear Knight.