[There is no elegant way to put this situation. It simply sucks.
Grimm cannot rightly say what exactly lead to this situation, only that he had not intended to teleport into a closet of all things. The White Palace had not been built for bugs of his height when it came to its day-to-day accommodations so the closet was small, cramped and very much too small for him to stand in comfortably.
It did not help that said closet was already occupied when he teleported in.
The Troupe Master shifts a little to release the pressure in his arms. He was almost bent completely in half and was bracing himself against the wall as extra support. His role as a performer demanded him to hold poses without moving for a long time but the extra support was so he was not impaled.
If Grimm's height has finally backfired on him, the Pale King's crown was also proving to be a problem. But the main problem was that the door had locked behind them and refused to budge.
He tries not to huff as he looks down at the Pale King.]
Certainly I have been in many interesting places, but I must say this is new.
[ If this had been any other situation, he might have felt the faint flicker of amusement at Grimm's predicament. It was rare to see the Troupe Master taken so off guard by...basically anything.
(Even with his ability to perfectly recall anything he desired, he had still had to actually search for a point of reference. It had been a long time since he had seen Grimm off-balance at all.)
Right now, though, any amusement he could have gleaned from it is mitigated by the fact that he had an experiment to run, and being trapped in one of the closets where he kept equipment was
not ideal, he would say. ]
If you didn't insist on making so many unexpected visits...perhaps this might have gone better.
[ He'd placed snares, more as an experiment than anything else. Always, always tinkering with security, with seals; preparing for the distant future, never really fixed in the present.
It often led to...little inconveniences like this.
(Who would experiment with traps in a personal space that nobody else came to? The Pale King would.
An incomplete seal shines dully in the darkness, clearly visible on the inside of the door.) ]
At least...you have provided some valuable information as to whether this seal pattern works.
[ He taps the closet's doors, to indicate what he's speaking of.
There's a faint hint of tension in his body, in his movements, but that's the only indication he might be irritated rather than just emotionlessly turning the problem over to discover another angle as he always does. ]
[It is true that Grimm was rarely caught off guard. He did not possess the foresight of the Wyrms but he has lived as long as the Radiance and had the advantage of a physical vessel to experience the waking world. There was not much that could surprise him.
What did manage to do so usually was something that should be taken seriously or was like this. Being pulled in a different direction mid-teleportation was....disconcerting. Very few had the power to do such a thing.
But that is the only thing that surprises Grimm. An experiment conducted in a place nobody came to? Yes, it likely was the Pale King's doing. As it was many times in the past, Grimm could see the logic behind the choice in location but...
It was dumb. Really, really dumb.]
You say that as if you do not enjoy my visits, dear Wyrm!
[He is joking and they both knew it. But joking helps a little with the feeling of being caught. Grimm bends backwards to look at the indicated seal, hearing a few joints crack as he does so. He ignores that to observe the Pale King's body language.
He was more expressive when he was thinking, turning problems around his head and seeing those gears move. Grimm has spent enough time to see a little beyond said gears and could pick up on what the Pale King was unconsciously showing.]
So if you have confirmed these indeed work...shall we leave? Or are you looking for a certain something...like a key?
[Is Grimm suggesting that the Pale King does not have one? Yes.]
[ Usually, he would have had an immediate response to the Troupe Master saying something like that. But for reasons known only to himself, the only indication he gives of having heard Grimm's joke is a quiet exhalation of breath; something between a sigh and a huff.
He turns his attention to the seal, not looking at the other bug; tracing its intricacies in his mind. An incomplete seal...he hadn't, in truth, expected this one to work. There were others in his laboratory - stronger, completed, more complex - and he had devised ways to unlock them quickly at need.
This one...would have to be unraveled, unmade. It had no fast solution.
(History will repeat itself. Something flawed and broken, becoming more than it was supposed to be.) ]
This one was incomplete. [ A pause. ] I did not expect it to work.
Unraveling it is a simple task. But it will take a little more time.
[ He doesn't wait for any possible response to that; he simply begins, bending his will to the task.
He doesn't even need to look at the door, but he does so anyway. (It's a learned movement, something that has become familiar to do; turn your head to look, even with an omnipotent will, a mind that can sense in all intricacies whatever is happening before it, because...it feels better to do so, somehow, in some small way.
[Grimm remains as he is while the Pale King gets to work. In this situation he would indeed offer help but this was out of his hands. The things the Pale King created may seem simple on the surface - a toy, a soldier, a seal - but were far more complicated when pried open. In the hands of someone else they likely would irreversibly destroy these creations.
After all, when it came to pure intelligence, the Pale King remained unmatched.]
It certainly works if it is capable of catching me.
[It is a compliment. The Pale King knew just as much as the Radiance that without the Nightmare Lantern it was impossible call Grimm somewhere if he did not wish to be there. Even if was a random quirk of the seal, it still successfully pulled the God of Nightmares where it wanted.
(Something small containing the power to move Gods.)
But when the Pale King begins to work Grimm knows he will not get a response unless something changes or the door opened. It took a crowbar to pull Wyrm from his work and even more to drag him into small talk. So instead Grimm watches the upside-down image of the Pale King at work in silence.
He has absolutely noted that the Pale King has moved to look at the door when he does not have to. Curious.]
[ He knows every pattern he has ever devised without exerting the least modicum of effort. Something so recent is not a challenge; all it requires is patience, and that glacial patience is something the Pale King has a limitless supply of when it comes to picking apart a problem.
(He finds his attention more easily caught, more easily divided these days. There are only certain bugs that will do that to him-
It's
less distracting if he looks at the seal while he bends his mind to unlocking it.)
There are minute indications of unwarranted tension, visible signs of concentration and focus. For someone whose body language is usually absent, it's...telling.
[Grimm is quite aware of the patience of the Pale King. Sit him down in front of a complex enough puzzle and Wyrm will stay there until it is solved. The Troupe Master is also not foolish to think that their relationship was solely based on enjoying each others' company. Grimm stayed was in part due to amusement, the ruler of Hallownest likely saw the "sibling" of the Radiance more then he saw Grimm.
A puzzle, a curiosity. He would be in for quite the trial if he attempted to take Grimm apart but learning more about him was certainly a motivation.
(It gave Grimm an excuse to visit without prompting, the other reason why the Troupe Master chose to keep coming back.
It is telling, in turn, that if Grimm goes somewhere without being called, it is because there is something there he wished to be next to.)
But all of this aside, Grimm is also not blind to the quirks and body language of the Pale King. He never had to make himself focus on what he was doing, he rarely showed tension regardless of what it was he was working on. Grimm naturally cannot read the Pale King's mind but it is clear there is something there.]
Is there something on your mind, dear Wyrm?
[Obviously he likely will not get a straight answer, but the Pale King knows Grimm will pick over what he has said even if the answer is pure silence. And so...]
[ There are so many things about Grimm that he doesn't understand (and perhaps is, to some degree, incapable of understanding). And like everything the Pale King doesn't clearly comprehend, he prefers to keep within observational distance.
(In that flame that flickered in dark dreams, the crimson heart that burned within the vessel, he had easily seen the sleeping form of Radiance's shadow. That was an identity easily perceived; once the Pale King bent his will to seek something out, there was rarely anything that could hide itself from him for long.
Though the Nightmare King baffled him in some ways - his choice to have that separation at all being one - he was far easier to comprehend than his vessel was.)
Usually, Grimm's words would have little effect at all; he would be so absorbed in fixing the problem presented to him that processing that someone spoke would take him quite a while. ]
No.
[ The answer is immediate, and that in itself is indicative that he doesn't have his whole mind bent to his current goal.
It's not as if he's doing nothing, of course. The seal is slowly unwinding and fading, flickering as it's undone. But it's...slower going, considering how simple he had said the task was. ]
[Grimm had gone into this relationship with the knowing inevitability that the Pale King would discover that he was the God of Nightmares. It was doubtful that Wyrm would learn his lesson to not poke a sleeping bear if he met the Nightmare King through pure brute force (or as forceful as his intelligence was) so letting it happen was the easier option.
But only once. Perhaps the only foolish thing was that Grimm hoped the shadow case by the Living Flame would not blot out the vessel that acted as his eyes.
That future is up in the air.
...but not the immediate future. To have an immediate answer is nice but as he has had to make quite a nuisance of himself in the past to gain the Pale King's attention when he was working spoke more then a one-word answer.
Grimm leans backwards a little more and there are two quiet clicks as his extra pair of legs unfold to help balance himself. It is a ridiculous pose and everything is upside down but he does not have to worry about blood rushing to his head and it was amusing.]
Are you certain? Because I can recall many a day where I have seen you like this and usually there was something wrong. Like forgetting to eat, for example.
[And Grimm's memory is sharp. They both know this.]
It is not if you are not working hard, my friend. But you are working slower then you normally do.
[His observation skills are nothing compared to the Pale King, but Grimm was not blind.]
[ (There's a slight twitch of his head at those quiet sounds; unnecessary movements, still made regardless. He certainly is being responsive today.)
Rather than answer with words at first, he simply makes a few irritable clicking noises; one of the few remnants of a time when his form was much, much larger than it is now. If it wasn't for their irregular cadence, they would simply be yet another reminder of how similar he is to the devices that he builds and surrounds himself with; they bring to mind the ticking and whirring of gears and mechanisms.
Grimm has an aptitude for remembering his weaknesses and his mistakes, out of what seems to be some kind of amusement. It's...irritating.
(He doesn't know why that is. He doesn't know why it matters so much.
He knows every part of himself, every little thing that goes into this shell to make it function. There is nothing he possibly could have missed, and yet.
He still doesn't know the answer to such a question. It jams in his thoughts like a broken cog, a wayward part without a place to fit.
Irritating.) ]
I am certain.
There is nothing wrong.
[ If nothing else, it's technically true.
Though he still had...lapses, from time to time, more often than he'd like to admit, once sufficiently reminded he had no real problems keeping everything functioning, so to speak. This isn't a matter of his mortal body demanding something of him.
[Certainly so. Grimm did not often hear those clicks unless something was going on. He had remarked they were cute one day (they were!) and naturally the Pale King avoided doing it around him afterwards. But it was a sound that Grimm associated him with, the clicks of machines and the grind of buzz saws and pure white. The Troupe Master was 'louder' in color and sound but the Pale King held a sort of attraction that was difficult to resist.
Like moths to the flame but for once Grimm was the moth that would inevitably be consumed.
Joints creek and pop as the Troupe Master moves so he is actually in the correct position. He naturally cannot do anything about the ceiling's height and still has to bend down but at least he is not looking at everything upside down.]
You are emoting far more then usual. [A more serious tone, a sign Grimm is no longer joking.] I like to think I know you well enough to see the signs when something is on your mind, dear Wyrm.
[It's not physical. Injuries were difficult to judge, given the Pale King's inability to express pain, and there were no signs that he had not eaten or slept for a long time.
So only one other thing remained. Penny for your thoughts, Pale King?]
[ Diminished in stature next to his fellow gods though he is, the Pale King can hold the attention of others just as easily as them. Though like most things concerning his followers, it's simply a tool to be used. A light attracting the lost, the wayward, the easily held, onward and into the dark.
He can do so much more the more he has, after all. It intrigues him; how quickly they swarm, how eager they are to please and to worship and to look for guidance.
(Grimm is a strong contrast to what he's normally used to. Is that the reason he fascinates him so much? He doesn't know. He doesn't understand.
So little he understands, even after so much time. It's an ongoing puzzle that frustrates him. Usually, he has the measure of people after a few moments with them; knowing what will motivate them, knowing what drives them, what they hold most precious. Tools, gifts and bargains.
The Troupe Master remains frustratingly elusive. He seems to exist outside usual structure.)
Another irritable click, click noise. There's really only one area where the Pale King is so reluctant to talk about what might be bothering him. For someone like Grimm, who's perfectly at ease with poking and prodding to get an answer, it's remarkably easy to guess.
Much as he would like it to be otherwise.
(What would he even say?) The words come out...as close to unthinkingly as he gets, which is also rare. ]
You do. [ Another long pause. ] It is not my expertise.
[ The seal on the inside of the door flickers and fades and doesn't light again. He's done.
That's as close to an answer as Grimm is getting right at the moment, it seems. He pushes open the closet's doors (mercifully, they stay open, since the Pale King doesn't feel the need to bother with holding doors open himself) and steps out.
He's already heading to one of the workbenches, but his movements are a little unfocused, a little vague. Usually, he acts with more purpose. Right now, it's...
It's hard to focus. Why is it hard? He doesn't know. He's distracted, again. He hasn't forgotten what he was going to do, but it simply seems...lower priority?
So many questions. And for once, he can do little to answer them. ]
[It is something that reminds Grimm of his own contrast to the Radiance, to his sealed away sister. The Kingdom of Hallownest thrived with those who worshiped the Pale King and the free will he bestowed upon them. The Nightmare King had his own followers in the past but...no more.
Grimm stood with the Troupe and them alone. Not as a God and his worshipers but as Master and actors within their endless song. He refused to accept praise as the God of Nightmares, refused to step on the free wills of those who chose to put on a mask and enter the Troupe's everlasting dance.
A failure of a God. But a God free of his throne.
Getting a straight answer (or as straight of an answer as the Pale King ever gives) surprises Grimm but generally these rare moments were the beginning of something good, interesting or both. Stepping out of the closet himself, Grimm is silent for a moment as he stretches with a groan. It appears that his height was a problem for once and working the kinks out of his body takes a moment.
Flexibility was endlessly useful for performances but that did not mean holding these poses did not cause discomfort!
Grimm can still see how distracted the Pale King is. If this was any other situation he would have long since started working again. A way to distract the Pale King from his work was to present a big enough puzzle to gain his attention but this time the puzzle was in his own head.
The perfect machine encountering the perfect error.]
Perhaps we can work it out together. What is missing from this puzzle presented before you? Is it a particular question or subject you seek the answer to?
[ It's yet another puzzle. Both the Nightmare King and his vessel had chosen not to embrace godhood; that crimson flame merely watched and slumbered until it was time to be reborn, and the Troupe Master in all his incarnations wandered the world above, desiring no worship and gathering few followers.
The benefits of being a god far outweigh any costs that need to be paid.
(The Pale King wears the heaviness of responsibility and power as if he was born to it. In some ways, it wouldn't be inaccurate to say that was the case; the being Grimm speaks to now, an ancient mind in a mortal shell, was finely crafted to wield godhood like a weapon. A sword to pierce his enemies, to leave his mark on those he deemed worthy.)
The Pale King's domain - despite his experimentation in dreams - is the physical world, the conscious thought, the exertion and effect of will. There is no puzzle put in front of him he cannot solve, nothing he cannot build, no machine he cannot put together and dismantle as he wishes. His visions of the future move mountains in the present, carve tunnels into solid rock, displace what once was and make it what he has seen - what he believes it should be.
It is both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness, that strength of belief. It allows only for action; not inaction, not reflection. No faltering, no doubt, no stirring of the subconscious, no looking back.
A perfect, efficient, finely-tuned machine with the capability to reshape the world around him, but not himself. ]
It does not require that kind of effort.
It will pass. [ More accurately, he will ignore it. Possibly forever. ] There is no purpose in entertaining such thoughts. It only encourages more.
[ He picks up a small device on the workbench, tinkering with it, seeing some tiny imperfection that he intends to fix. What it is is unclear. ]
[Certainly the Pale King is not wrong. Grimm merrily ignored his godhood until it was needed, a flame that had gasoline poured on it when the Ritual called upon it.
But the Pale King embraced it, bent the concept into a sharp blade. Regular bugs immediately recognized him for a perfect God and Grimm himself had indeed recognized Wyrm for what he was when they first met. Radiant in his own way, a God in the small form of a bug who turned mindless creatures into a civilization.
The God of Free Will and Invention, a creator. One only had to look around to see all that he has created and shaped Hallownest with. A perfect machine that could create a perfect world.
But Grimm can see what he is missing, the metaphorical heart that seems to have no place in this perfect machine but was there regardless. Grimm has lived long enough and has had so many reincarnations that emotions were difficult to miss or ignore.
(It may be worth the costs but the insanity brought about is something the Nightmare King will not endure ever again.)
He finds a chair and pulls it nearby so he can sit and watch the Pale King work. It was interesting to watch but it also allows him to observe Wyrm's body language better.]
And you believe that ignoring the matter will not do more harm then good? It is unusual to see you express such things, so there must be something new rattling around in your mind.
[Perhaps not something new (his mind went everywhere and it was difficult to keep up some times.) but it was enough to arrest the Pale King's attention and that alone was worth poking at.]
[ Will, properly directed, properly channeled and applied, is the only thing that can truly change the world to his satisfaction. All else can be tuned and engineered and augmented to suit those purposes.
A sword has no need to feel for what it cuts. A machine designed for a singular purpose has no need of a heart.
(So, why does he continue to be plagued by such incessant, useless thoughts? It was not something he had in the form of a Wyrm, so far above other bugs. It was never something he had to bother with.)
He dismantles the device in front of him and begins to meticulously pore over its pieces, looking for some hidden error. He works smoothly, without pause; the only thing that stops his efficient, repetitive movements is Grimm's words.
(He doesn't need to stop to listen. He's more than capable of multitasking. But he does regardless.) ]
Not something new.
It reoccurs. Enough to be an irritant.
[ He holds up a needle to the light, examining it for flaw. What place it has in the device he's so casually dissected is not yet clear. ]
I do not understand it, [ he admits, after a moment, and there's an edge, a frustrated tightness to his voice. It seems ridiculous to even say, it would be much easier to write off as insignificant and unnecessary.
But his curiosity, his latent pride, won't allow him to stop turning it over in his head. Wearing it down, thinking about it, considering all angles and still - remaining uncomprehending.
Overthinking it, in truth. It's not something that can be fully dissected, nor controlled. But he doesn't understand that, either. ] I have no need for it. Yet it still persists.
[Watching the Pale King work was its own form of entertainment. The focus he had for each project he chose to do was deep and frankly this was the first in a long time Grimm has been able to watch and speak to him (and receive an answer, even!) were few and far in-between.
But to hear that these bouts of feelings were reoccurring rather then something that had merely happened today was far more interesting. Grimm understands that it would be irritating for someone who has never experienced such things prior to his transformation into a smaller form, but the Troupe Master knew the impossibility of trying to dissect said feelings.
It was the Pale King's go-to response for all that comes into his world. Break something down and build it back up into something better, something more efficient. But that will not work in this case.]
Perhaps we should start at the beginning. [Grimm watches the Pale King examining the needle for something he did not know the use of.] When did it all begin?
[If it was reoccurring then that meant it began somewhere. Something, somewhere, wormed its way into the Pale King's mind and jammed the clogs of the perfect machine when it saw fit.
(If he was being honest, Grimm was both amused and jealous that something managed to provoke such a reaction.)]
[ There is a long, long moment of silence. Knowing the Pale King's usual routines and habits, Grimm could easily be forgiven for simply assuming he's focused on his task and forgotten that a conversation was happening at all.
A needle, a cylinder, cogs and gears, a crank to turn...various parts are being put together with unerring precision. He can see it in his head, see what should exist long before it takes shape before him; he doesn't need his prescience for that.
(Why did he make this? Music is one of those things that he has no need for, either. It wasn't something he desired, something that soothed him; nor was it something he had a solid concept of.
Until recently - what counts as recently for something as ancient as him. ) ]
I am surprised you did not notice when it started.
[The inevitable silence is indeed what he is used to. The Pale King sometimes became lost in his own mind and projects often like the God of Nightmares did when presented with wide, open spaces. Unless what he was speaking of was extremely important, he would break off conversations to think and sometimes leave sentences incomplete.
Grimm did not mind waiting. He knew if he made enough of a nuisance then he could likely refocus the Pale King's attention...but he was far too curious about what he was making. The Troupe Master could see the shape of this invention and, unless the Pale King had other plans, could guess what it was for.
Music, but why the Pale King would--
The Troupe Master blinks in surprise as it clicks.]
It began when you met me.
[A few other things are occurring to Grimm but he will not yet speak of them.]
[ Not a yes, or a no, or even a maybe, but a completely different answer altogether. His tone is impassive, a flat reading of the situation in front of him.
Well...
Mostly impassive. There's a hint of something else in there, too, though what it is...is unclear. Surprise. Resignation, perhaps.
Waiting for the inevitable mockery to begin, maybe. That was usually how these things went. He has realised perhaps a little too late that this conversation was heading down this inevitable path all along, and resigned himself to it.
He continues to painstakingly construct what is taking shape as some kind of musical device. Grooves in the surface of the cylinder are arranged in painstaking patterns; they are the paths where the needle will move along when the crank is wound. ]
[Oh, the Pale King is quite correct when he thinks Grimm is amused by this. The sly smile creeping onto the Troupe Master's face gives it away although it is not as smug as it normally was when the conversations in the past have gone down this road.
He's amused...but also a little touched. Invoking feelings into something that normally did not feel certainly meant he had enough presence in the Pale King's mind for them to exist.
What the feelings were in question were another story, however.]
I am, yes.
[If the Pale King was being honest, it was only fair Grimm was as well.]
How would you describe these feelings, my friend? Good, bad, or something else?
[ He doesn't even need to look to know the expression creeping onto Grimm's face; he merely sighs. It's a conversation they've had rarely, but he is not a being that forgets.
Bugs were made out of patterns, of routine. Under Radiance, that was all they were. Under him, they were so much more than that. They could defy instinct and move to do far more interesting things.
Grimm - not the Nightmare King, but his vessel - had always been that way, linked to godhood though he was. He was unconventional and irreverent and somehow terribly annoying despite the Pale King's inability to feel.
Another long silence; the device is coming together, taking on a shape. Almost finished; just a few more parts to be added, and then it will be ready. ]
I do not know.
[ And just from that answer, Grimm probably has more insight into the truth than the Pale King would prefer he have. The fact that he cannot name one or the other likely means it is a mixture. ]
[When the Pale King felt something it was always at a basic level, almost like a child. Happiness, annoyance, curiosity....simplistic and often crushed down and discarded for something more productive. But...
"I do not know."
The Pale King was not stupid. He may not know what emotions were but he could break someone down to find what made them happy, what they feared to use it for something productive. Turning that upon himself would be easy and likely was his first reaction once these feelings began to surface.
But these were mixed feelings so convoluted that even Wyrm could not figure them out. Yet it was enough for Grimm to understand where this was going. So...]
And what of the living flame?
[Grimm rarely brought up the Nightmare King. Any information on his role as the God of Nightmares was something the Pale King likely had to pry out of him and was quite firm that there was to be a line drawn between the two of them.
The question is...do these feelings apply to the Nightmare King as well or Grimm alone?]
[ Another irritated clicking sound. He imparts only as much information as he thinks his current listener needs to know - what is necessary, what is not necessary. But each vague answer only produces more questions, and the irritation is half at himself for even thinking this conversation could be a simple thing.
(For a god who can see far, far into the future, he is less than stellar at navigating these smaller things, seeing these outcomes.
Even he doesn't know if he willingly lets himself be trapped in such apparently pointless conversations. He examines it time and time again, and doesn't understand the logic in himself that leads to it.
He doesn't admit it to himself.
It's--
frustrating. Irritating as ever.)
There is a shift of his head, empty sockets 'glancing' at Grimm and away from his little project - though this is yet another unnecessary motion. Grimm's position is known to him. He hasn't moved, and there is no need to reconfirm that he is there. ]
He is far easier to understand than you.
[ That's as clear an answer as you're going to get. ]
[Grimm meets the gaze that many do not. He is well aware that many found the Pale King's stare unnerving, an empty sort of endless void where one would be lost if they fell into it. But the Troupe Master did not mind it. To be frank, sometimes he wished it was possible to fill that void with flame and dress all this white in black and red. A desire to consume that came with his nature.
What, with the foresight of the Wyrm, are his nightmares like? What consumed his mind when he finally slept?]
A point of reference for myself, dear Wyrm. Your only meeting with him involved being nearly set on fire, so these feelings of yours are for I alone.
[A matter tossed aside. The Pale King sharpened his Godhood into a blade but Grimm treated it as lesser then his role of the Troupe Master. Nightmares still visited those across the lands and the Troupe still reaped the flames of the dead and dying so he was fulfilling what he was born to do.
He did not shrink his duties. But the Troupe Master came first long before the Nightmare King, seemingly by the God's own design. He had no worshipers, no one but isolation and what he could see through his vessel's eyes.]
Would anything change if I left for good and we never spoke again?
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no subject
Grimm cannot rightly say what exactly lead to this situation, only that he had not intended to teleport into a closet of all things. The White Palace had not been built for bugs of his height when it came to its day-to-day accommodations so the closet was small, cramped and very much too small for him to stand in comfortably.
It did not help that said closet was already occupied when he teleported in.
The Troupe Master shifts a little to release the pressure in his arms. He was almost bent completely in half and was bracing himself against the wall as extra support. His role as a performer demanded him to hold poses without moving for a long time but the extra support was so he was not impaled.
If Grimm's height has finally backfired on him, the Pale King's crown was also proving to be a problem. But the main problem was that the door had locked behind them and refused to budge.
He tries not to huff as he looks down at the Pale King.]
Certainly I have been in many interesting places, but I must say this is new.
no subject
(Even with his ability to perfectly recall anything he desired, he had still had to actually search for a point of reference. It had been a long time since he had seen Grimm off-balance at all.)
Right now, though, any amusement he could have gleaned from it is mitigated by the fact that he had an experiment to run, and being trapped in one of the closets where he kept equipment was
not ideal, he would say. ]
If you didn't insist on making so many unexpected visits...perhaps this might have gone better.
[ He'd placed snares, more as an experiment than anything else. Always, always tinkering with security, with seals; preparing for the distant future, never really fixed in the present.
It often led to...little inconveniences like this.
(Who would experiment with traps in a personal space that nobody else came to? The Pale King would.
An incomplete seal shines dully in the darkness, clearly visible on the inside of the door.) ]
At least...you have provided some valuable information as to whether this seal pattern works.
[ He taps the closet's doors, to indicate what he's speaking of.
There's a faint hint of tension in his body, in his movements, but that's the only indication he might be irritated rather than just emotionlessly turning the problem over to discover another angle as he always does. ]
no subject
What did manage to do so usually was something that should be taken seriously or was like this. Being pulled in a different direction mid-teleportation was....disconcerting. Very few had the power to do such a thing.
But that is the only thing that surprises Grimm. An experiment conducted in a place nobody came to? Yes, it likely was the Pale King's doing. As it was many times in the past, Grimm could see the logic behind the choice in location but...
It was dumb. Really, really dumb.]
You say that as if you do not enjoy my visits, dear Wyrm!
[He is joking and they both knew it. But joking helps a little with the feeling of being caught. Grimm bends backwards to look at the indicated seal, hearing a few joints crack as he does so. He ignores that to observe the Pale King's body language.
He was more expressive when he was thinking, turning problems around his head and seeing those gears move. Grimm has spent enough time to see a little beyond said gears and could pick up on what the Pale King was unconsciously showing.]
So if you have confirmed these indeed work...shall we leave? Or are you looking for a certain something...like a key?
[Is Grimm suggesting that the Pale King does not have one? Yes.]
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He turns his attention to the seal, not looking at the other bug; tracing its intricacies in his mind. An incomplete seal...he hadn't, in truth, expected this one to work. There were others in his laboratory - stronger, completed, more complex - and he had devised ways to unlock them quickly at need.
This one...would have to be unraveled, unmade. It had no fast solution.
(History will repeat itself. Something flawed and broken, becoming more than it was supposed to be.) ]
This one was incomplete. [ A pause. ] I did not expect it to work.
Unraveling it is a simple task. But it will take a little more time.
[ He doesn't wait for any possible response to that; he simply begins, bending his will to the task.
He doesn't even need to look at the door, but he does so anyway. (It's a learned movement, something that has become familiar to do; turn your head to look, even with an omnipotent will, a mind that can sense in all intricacies whatever is happening before it, because...it feels better to do so, somehow, in some small way.
Mortal shells were such strange things.) ]
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After all, when it came to pure intelligence, the Pale King remained unmatched.]
It certainly works if it is capable of catching me.
[It is a compliment. The Pale King knew just as much as the Radiance that without the Nightmare Lantern it was impossible call Grimm somewhere if he did not wish to be there. Even if was a random quirk of the seal, it still successfully pulled the God of Nightmares where it wanted.
(Something small containing the power to move Gods.)
But when the Pale King begins to work Grimm knows he will not get a response unless something changes or the door opened. It took a crowbar to pull Wyrm from his work and even more to drag him into small talk. So instead Grimm watches the upside-down image of the Pale King at work in silence.
He has absolutely noted that the Pale King has moved to look at the door when he does not have to. Curious.]
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[ He knows every pattern he has ever devised without exerting the least modicum of effort. Something so recent is not a challenge; all it requires is patience, and that glacial patience is something the Pale King has a limitless supply of when it comes to picking apart a problem.
(He finds his attention more easily caught, more easily divided these days. There are only certain bugs that will do that to him-
It's
less distracting if he looks at the seal while he bends his mind to unlocking it.)
There are minute indications of unwarranted tension, visible signs of concentration and focus. For someone whose body language is usually absent, it's...telling.
Though what it's telling of, who knows. ]
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A puzzle, a curiosity. He would be in for quite the trial if he attempted to take Grimm apart but learning more about him was certainly a motivation.
(It gave Grimm an excuse to visit without prompting, the other reason why the Troupe Master chose to keep coming back.
It is telling, in turn, that if Grimm goes somewhere without being called, it is because there is something there he wished to be next to.)
But all of this aside, Grimm is also not blind to the quirks and body language of the Pale King. He never had to make himself focus on what he was doing, he rarely showed tension regardless of what it was he was working on. Grimm naturally cannot read the Pale King's mind but it is clear there is something there.]
Is there something on your mind, dear Wyrm?
[Obviously he likely will not get a straight answer, but the Pale King knows Grimm will pick over what he has said even if the answer is pure silence. And so...]
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(In that flame that flickered in dark dreams, the crimson heart that burned within the vessel, he had easily seen the sleeping form of Radiance's shadow. That was an identity easily perceived; once the Pale King bent his will to seek something out, there was rarely anything that could hide itself from him for long.
Though the Nightmare King baffled him in some ways - his choice to have that separation at all being one - he was far easier to comprehend than his vessel was.)
Usually, Grimm's words would have little effect at all; he would be so absorbed in fixing the problem presented to him that processing that someone spoke would take him quite a while. ]
No.
[ The answer is immediate, and that in itself is indicative that he doesn't have his whole mind bent to his current goal.
It's not as if he's doing nothing, of course. The seal is slowly unwinding and fading, flickering as it's undone. But it's...slower going, considering how simple he had said the task was. ]
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But only once. Perhaps the only foolish thing was that Grimm hoped the shadow case by the Living Flame would not blot out the vessel that acted as his eyes.
That future is up in the air.
...but not the immediate future. To have an immediate answer is nice but as he has had to make quite a nuisance of himself in the past to gain the Pale King's attention when he was working spoke more then a one-word answer.
Grimm leans backwards a little more and there are two quiet clicks as his extra pair of legs unfold to help balance himself. It is a ridiculous pose and everything is upside down but he does not have to worry about blood rushing to his head and it was amusing.]
Are you certain? Because I can recall many a day where I have seen you like this and usually there was something wrong. Like forgetting to eat, for example.
[And Grimm's memory is sharp. They both know this.]
It is not if you are not working hard, my friend. But you are working slower then you normally do.
[His observation skills are nothing compared to the Pale King, but Grimm was not blind.]
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Rather than answer with words at first, he simply makes a few irritable clicking noises; one of the few remnants of a time when his form was much, much larger than it is now. If it wasn't for their irregular cadence, they would simply be yet another reminder of how similar he is to the devices that he builds and surrounds himself with; they bring to mind the ticking and whirring of gears and mechanisms.
Grimm has an aptitude for remembering his weaknesses and his mistakes, out of what seems to be some kind of amusement. It's...irritating.
(He doesn't know why that is. He doesn't know why it matters so much.
He knows every part of himself, every little thing that goes into this shell to make it function. There is nothing he possibly could have missed, and yet.
He still doesn't know the answer to such a question. It jams in his thoughts like a broken cog, a wayward part without a place to fit.
Irritating.) ]
I am certain.
There is nothing wrong.
[ If nothing else, it's technically true.
Though he still had...lapses, from time to time, more often than he'd like to admit, once sufficiently reminded he had no real problems keeping everything functioning, so to speak. This isn't a matter of his mortal body demanding something of him.
He keeps working at the seal. Almost done. ]
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Like moths to the flame but for once Grimm was the moth that would inevitably be consumed.
Joints creek and pop as the Troupe Master moves so he is actually in the correct position. He naturally cannot do anything about the ceiling's height and still has to bend down but at least he is not looking at everything upside down.]
You are emoting far more then usual. [A more serious tone, a sign Grimm is no longer joking.] I like to think I know you well enough to see the signs when something is on your mind, dear Wyrm.
[It's not physical. Injuries were difficult to judge, given the Pale King's inability to express pain, and there were no signs that he had not eaten or slept for a long time.
So only one other thing remained. Penny for your thoughts, Pale King?]
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He can do so much more the more he has, after all. It intrigues him; how quickly they swarm, how eager they are to please and to worship and to look for guidance.
(Grimm is a strong contrast to what he's normally used to. Is that the reason he fascinates him so much? He doesn't know. He doesn't understand.
So little he understands, even after so much time. It's an ongoing puzzle that frustrates him. Usually, he has the measure of people after a few moments with them; knowing what will motivate them, knowing what drives them, what they hold most precious. Tools, gifts and bargains.
The Troupe Master remains frustratingly elusive. He seems to exist outside usual structure.)
Another irritable click, click noise. There's really only one area where the Pale King is so reluctant to talk about what might be bothering him. For someone like Grimm, who's perfectly at ease with poking and prodding to get an answer, it's remarkably easy to guess.
Much as he would like it to be otherwise.
(What would he even say?) The words come out...as close to unthinkingly as he gets, which is also rare. ]
You do. [ Another long pause. ] It is not my expertise.
[ The seal on the inside of the door flickers and fades and doesn't light again. He's done.
That's as close to an answer as Grimm is getting right at the moment, it seems. He pushes open the closet's doors (mercifully, they stay open, since the Pale King doesn't feel the need to bother with holding doors open himself) and steps out.
He's already heading to one of the workbenches, but his movements are a little unfocused, a little vague. Usually, he acts with more purpose. Right now, it's...
It's hard to focus. Why is it hard? He doesn't know. He's distracted, again. He hasn't forgotten what he was going to do, but it simply seems...lower priority?
So many questions. And for once, he can do little to answer them. ]
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Grimm stood with the Troupe and them alone. Not as a God and his worshipers but as Master and actors within their endless song. He refused to accept praise as the God of Nightmares, refused to step on the free wills of those who chose to put on a mask and enter the Troupe's everlasting dance.
A failure of a God. But a God free of his throne.
Getting a straight answer (or as straight of an answer as the Pale King ever gives) surprises Grimm but generally these rare moments were the beginning of something good, interesting or both. Stepping out of the closet himself, Grimm is silent for a moment as he stretches with a groan. It appears that his height was a problem for once and working the kinks out of his body takes a moment.
Flexibility was endlessly useful for performances but that did not mean holding these poses did not cause discomfort!
Grimm can still see how distracted the Pale King is. If this was any other situation he would have long since started working again. A way to distract the Pale King from his work was to present a big enough puzzle to gain his attention but this time the puzzle was in his own head.
The perfect machine encountering the perfect error.]
Perhaps we can work it out together. What is missing from this puzzle presented before you? Is it a particular question or subject you seek the answer to?
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The benefits of being a god far outweigh any costs that need to be paid.
(The Pale King wears the heaviness of responsibility and power as if he was born to it. In some ways, it wouldn't be inaccurate to say that was the case; the being Grimm speaks to now, an ancient mind in a mortal shell, was finely crafted to wield godhood like a weapon. A sword to pierce his enemies, to leave his mark on those he deemed worthy.)
The Pale King's domain - despite his experimentation in dreams - is the physical world, the conscious thought, the exertion and effect of will. There is no puzzle put in front of him he cannot solve, nothing he cannot build, no machine he cannot put together and dismantle as he wishes. His visions of the future move mountains in the present, carve tunnels into solid rock, displace what once was and make it what he has seen - what he believes it should be.
It is both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness, that strength of belief. It allows only for action; not inaction, not reflection. No faltering, no doubt, no stirring of the subconscious, no looking back.
A perfect, efficient, finely-tuned machine with the capability to reshape the world around him, but not himself. ]
It does not require that kind of effort.
It will pass. [ More accurately, he will ignore it. Possibly forever. ] There is no purpose in entertaining such thoughts. It only encourages more.
[ He picks up a small device on the workbench, tinkering with it, seeing some tiny imperfection that he intends to fix. What it is is unclear. ]
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But the Pale King embraced it, bent the concept into a sharp blade. Regular bugs immediately recognized him for a perfect God and Grimm himself had indeed recognized Wyrm for what he was when they first met. Radiant in his own way, a God in the small form of a bug who turned mindless creatures into a civilization.
The God of Free Will and Invention, a creator. One only had to look around to see all that he has created and shaped Hallownest with. A perfect machine that could create a perfect world.
But Grimm can see what he is missing, the metaphorical heart that seems to have no place in this perfect machine but was there regardless. Grimm has lived long enough and has had so many reincarnations that emotions were difficult to miss or ignore.
(It may be worth the costs but the insanity brought about is something the Nightmare King will not endure ever again.)
He finds a chair and pulls it nearby so he can sit and watch the Pale King work. It was interesting to watch but it also allows him to observe Wyrm's body language better.]
And you believe that ignoring the matter will not do more harm then good? It is unusual to see you express such things, so there must be something new rattling around in your mind.
[Perhaps not something new (his mind went everywhere and it was difficult to keep up some times.) but it was enough to arrest the Pale King's attention and that alone was worth poking at.]
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A sword has no need to feel for what it cuts. A machine designed for a singular purpose has no need of a heart.
(So, why does he continue to be plagued by such incessant, useless thoughts? It was not something he had in the form of a Wyrm, so far above other bugs. It was never something he had to bother with.)
He dismantles the device in front of him and begins to meticulously pore over its pieces, looking for some hidden error. He works smoothly, without pause; the only thing that stops his efficient, repetitive movements is Grimm's words.
(He doesn't need to stop to listen. He's more than capable of multitasking. But he does regardless.) ]
Not something new.
It reoccurs. Enough to be an irritant.
[ He holds up a needle to the light, examining it for flaw. What place it has in the device he's so casually dissected is not yet clear. ]
I do not understand it, [ he admits, after a moment, and there's an edge, a frustrated tightness to his voice. It seems ridiculous to even say, it would be much easier to write off as insignificant and unnecessary.
But his curiosity, his latent pride, won't allow him to stop turning it over in his head. Wearing it down, thinking about it, considering all angles and still - remaining uncomprehending.
Overthinking it, in truth. It's not something that can be fully dissected, nor controlled. But he doesn't understand that, either. ] I have no need for it. Yet it still persists.
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But to hear that these bouts of feelings were reoccurring rather then something that had merely happened today was far more interesting. Grimm understands that it would be irritating for someone who has never experienced such things prior to his transformation into a smaller form, but the Troupe Master knew the impossibility of trying to dissect said feelings.
It was the Pale King's go-to response for all that comes into his world. Break something down and build it back up into something better, something more efficient. But that will not work in this case.]
Perhaps we should start at the beginning. [Grimm watches the Pale King examining the needle for something he did not know the use of.] When did it all begin?
[If it was reoccurring then that meant it began somewhere. Something, somewhere, wormed its way into the Pale King's mind and jammed the clogs of the perfect machine when it saw fit.
(If he was being honest, Grimm was both amused and jealous that something managed to provoke such a reaction.)]
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A needle, a cylinder, cogs and gears, a crank to turn...various parts are being put together with unerring precision. He can see it in his head, see what should exist long before it takes shape before him; he doesn't need his prescience for that.
(Why did he make this? Music is one of those things that he has no need for, either. It wasn't something he desired, something that soothed him; nor was it something he had a solid concept of.
Until recently - what counts as recently for something as ancient as him. ) ]
I am surprised you did not notice when it started.
[ Is he
going to elaborate on this at all?
Apparently not. ]
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Grimm did not mind waiting. He knew if he made enough of a nuisance then he could likely refocus the Pale King's attention...but he was far too curious about what he was making. The Troupe Master could see the shape of this invention and, unless the Pale King had other plans, could guess what it was for.
Music, but why the Pale King would--
The Troupe Master blinks in surprise as it clicks.]
It began when you met me.
[A few other things are occurring to Grimm but he will not yet speak of them.]
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[ Not a yes, or a no, or even a maybe, but a completely different answer altogether. His tone is impassive, a flat reading of the situation in front of him.
Well...
Mostly impassive. There's a hint of something else in there, too, though what it is...is unclear. Surprise. Resignation, perhaps.
Waiting for the inevitable mockery to begin, maybe. That was usually how these things went. He has realised perhaps a little too late that this conversation was heading down this inevitable path all along, and resigned himself to it.
He continues to painstakingly construct what is taking shape as some kind of musical device. Grooves in the surface of the cylinder are arranged in painstaking patterns; they are the paths where the needle will move along when the crank is wound. ]
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He's amused...but also a little touched. Invoking feelings into something that normally did not feel certainly meant he had enough presence in the Pale King's mind for them to exist.
What the feelings were in question were another story, however.]
I am, yes.
[If the Pale King was being honest, it was only fair Grimm was as well.]
How would you describe these feelings, my friend? Good, bad, or something else?
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Bugs were made out of patterns, of routine. Under Radiance, that was all they were. Under him, they were so much more than that. They could defy instinct and move to do far more interesting things.
Grimm - not the Nightmare King, but his vessel - had always been that way, linked to godhood though he was. He was unconventional and irreverent and somehow terribly annoying despite the Pale King's inability to feel.
Another long silence; the device is coming together, taking on a shape. Almost finished; just a few more parts to be added, and then it will be ready. ]
I do not know.
[ And just from that answer, Grimm probably has more insight into the truth than the Pale King would prefer he have. The fact that he cannot name one or the other likely means it is a mixture. ]
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"I do not know."
The Pale King was not stupid. He may not know what emotions were but he could break someone down to find what made them happy, what they feared to use it for something productive. Turning that upon himself would be easy and likely was his first reaction once these feelings began to surface.
But these were mixed feelings so convoluted that even Wyrm could not figure them out. Yet it was enough for Grimm to understand where this was going. So...]
And what of the living flame?
[Grimm rarely brought up the Nightmare King. Any information on his role as the God of Nightmares was something the Pale King likely had to pry out of him and was quite firm that there was to be a line drawn between the two of them.
The question is...do these feelings apply to the Nightmare King as well or Grimm alone?]
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(For a god who can see far, far into the future, he is less than stellar at navigating these smaller things, seeing these outcomes.
Even he doesn't know if he willingly lets himself be trapped in such apparently pointless conversations. He examines it time and time again, and doesn't understand the logic in himself that leads to it.
He doesn't admit it to himself.It's--
frustrating. Irritating as ever.)
There is a shift of his head, empty sockets 'glancing' at Grimm and away from his little project - though this is yet another unnecessary motion. Grimm's position is known to him. He hasn't moved, and there is no need to reconfirm that he is there. ]
He is far easier to understand than you.
[ That's as clear an answer as you're going to get. ]
It is unusual for you to speak of him.
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What, with the foresight of the Wyrm, are his nightmares like? What consumed his mind when he finally slept?]
A point of reference for myself, dear Wyrm. Your only meeting with him involved being nearly set on fire, so these feelings of yours are for I alone.
[A matter tossed aside. The Pale King sharpened his Godhood into a blade but Grimm treated it as lesser then his role of the Troupe Master. Nightmares still visited those across the lands and the Troupe still reaped the flames of the dead and dying so he was fulfilling what he was born to do.
He did not shrink his duties. But the Troupe Master came first long before the Nightmare King, seemingly by the God's own design. He had no worshipers, no one but isolation and what he could see through his vessel's eyes.]
Would anything change if I left for good and we never spoke again?
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