aftr_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME ( 015 )

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*test drive meme

TEST DRIVE MEME ( 015 )

Test Drive Meme #15

Hello, and welcome to LifeAftr! We’re pleased that you’re expressing an interest in the game. Here, you can test the waters, gauge how your character may fare in the world of LifeAftr, and even gain some in-game incentives, if you so choose.

Remember that Reserves will open on September 17th, and Applications on September 24th!

Two important notes:

1. LifeAftr's test drives take place on the island of Mu, which exists apart from the real world and possesses a dream-like quality that characters are innately aware of from the moment they appear on its shores. No need to panic or fret. Dreams are odd things, after all - and anything can happen in them. Why would anyone question where their mind chooses to wander in its sleep?

2. Due to the nature of Mu, threads in our test drive can not only be accepted as thread samples in your application, but can be accepted as game canon as well. In fact, certain choices your character makes in Mu have the potential to bear in-game consequences, largely in the form of test drive reward items.

Drawn to You
The forest is dark, silent but for the snap-buzz of cricket song. Nearby, the soft babble of running water threads its way between the rough-barked trunks, though the origin of said water is difficult, at first, to pinpoint.

Granted, you probably aren't paying much attention to the forest, or the water, or the darkness. You're probably more concerned about the creatures flitting to and fro in sparse groups, most of them quite small. They tend to vary in appearance - some look to be totally benign, while others considerably less so - but all belong to the same species.

Scribblets are wily beasts, dream-haunters by nature, and they seem to revel in the idle torment they inflict upon those who cross their paths. You, dear travelers, are no exception. And while they are quite easily crushed into dust once caught, they are exceedingly slippery, agile creatures that are most difficult to pin down.

If you're not careful enough, the scribblets will fasten a peculiar tether to you. It looks very much like it is made of the same materials they, resembling a sketchy line of crayon, drawn into the third dimension. Their intent, tonight, is to tie you to something that will make your life difficult - binding you to a tree trunk or to a branch far above the ground, tying your hands together...or even tying you to someone else. These bonds will only grow progressively denser and heavier the more you struggle against them.

Fortunately, the solution here is very simple. Like any drawing, it can be washed away if you find water. You'd simply better hope that you're able to collaborate with whoever you must in order to access said water, whether it's working alongside whoever you might be tied to, or convincing someone to lend you a hand.

You'd better hope the scribblets don't go after them either, by the way.

Quarantine Breached
Whatever this place once was, nature has long since claimed it for its own. A darkened, secluded laboratory now nearly swallowed by thick snarls of overgrowth is probably not your ideal vacation spot, particularly since there's a dearth of any decent lighting sources here. Drenched in shadow as this place was, it might have been helpful if you had thought to bring a light.

Fortunately, that problem is soon to be solved! Twin smoldering points of light abruptly ignite several yards away from you, paired with the pitched mechanical hum of engaging circuits. Another pair of lights immediately spritzes to life just beside it, and another pair, and another...and another...and...

Well, there seems to be a lot of them, doesn't there?

"Attention," chimes a pitched, automated voice, doubtless issuing from one of the many automatons that have begun to stir awake, one by one. "Potential host sighted. Quarantine breached."

You must understand, traveler: the island of Umui was nothing like this. The guardian units there were conscious nurse-bots, charged with caring for the sick and dying populace of a hospice island. Most did so with as much care as they were capable. But in the initial days of Umui's exploration, a great deal of explorers' anxieties revolved around these fallen automatons, and what possible purpose they may have served.

We invite you to imagine a scenario in which this went horribly wrong.

Consider these automatons to be shadowy, overzealous mirrors of their long-dead, real-world equivalents. They have learned to become hyper-devoted to their task of keeping their patients safe; so devoted, it seems, that nothing will stop them from fulfilling those obligations. They intend to catch and sedate you so that you can be...returned...to a place of safety.

Unfortunately, this place of safety probably entails an inescapable four-walled room or a hospital bed, and it's doubtful, to say in the least, that enough of their programming remains for them to remember to care for and feed you once you've been returned to whatever passes for a quarantine zone. In a decrepit, dilapidated building like this, it's probably not pleasant.

Our advice is to simply not get caught. If this means doing some inevitable destruction to all this complex hardware in the process, well...at least there's no chance you'll be billed for damages.

The New Farm Simulator Looks Great!
It is possible that you vaguely recall being asked to take watch this evening. By whom? Oh, please, that doesn't matter! With the pleasant hum of crickets in the air, and a backdrop of paddocks and grain fields around you, there are plenty of worse ways to spend your evening than this. All you have to do is keep an eye on passive livestock. The farmer's life is a simple one, where your biggest problem is trying not to fall asleep before your shift is over.

In theory, anyway.

While the scenery of the quiet countryside may be ideal, the state of the farm's buildings and and fences is far from it. For the curious creatures such as popo, there really isn't much to keep them in one place for long, wide stretches of fenceline ruined by fallen sections. Meaning that these massive, shaggy creatures can simply step over the crushed regions and start plowing their way contentedly in the direction of the fields of grain - fields that were certainly not intended to end up in some silly beast's stomach.

For others, sweet grains aren't as appealing as that sweet, sweet taste of freedom. A word of advice: once the popo are over those hills, you won't be seeing them again. And they might not be terribly fast on their own, but in a herd, they can get to be as dangerous as a stampede.

Hope you weren't expecting an easy night, because in LifeAftr, there's no CJB cheats menu to save you.

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

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Drawn to You

[Waking upon the shores of another land while the last thing you remember is taking your last breathes is strange, even for one who hallucinates often due to a sickness. Nevertheless the Guardian stands after a brief, quite coughing fit and quickly begins to explore.

The darkness was indeed worrying and the fact that their companion bot's map has been wiped clean equally so. they presses on however and records what they can onto the map, their figure lit up by the glow of the Guardian's hard-light blade and the companion bot's screen.

Inevitably they run afoul of the strange Scribblets and engages into combat. The Guardian's blows may be heavy and swift but the scribble monsters are slippery and soon lash the pink-clad drifter to a tree. Their only saving grace is that they did not manage to bind the hand that he wields his gun with. One of the Scribblets step forward to attempt to bind said limb only to swiftly be cut down by a bullet to the skull.

Despite the darkness the Guardian's aim continued to be swift and true as they level the gun at the remaining Scribblets. However he knows very well they do not have infinite ammo and more of these creatures are coming. They will be in deep trouble very quickly unless they receives some help and soon.]

Quarantine Breached

[The Guardian blinks and is plunged into darkness once again. But at least this time the automated voices let them know what is coming.

Their hard-light blade ignites as the automation charge their position and they swings, blade cleaving through metal as hethey dashes past all that attempt to grab and sedate them. It is a mistake to assume someone of their size is slow. Perhaps they would be more understanding of the situation if they knew what horrors had taken place on this island but the matter was dissolved the minute these robots attacked them. The Guardian would respond in kind until they retreated or they were all defeated.

They will see to such an end by continuing to fight but the minute they see someone being grabbed by the automatons, the Guardian will swiftly make their way over and cut the machines down before offering a hand to the person to help them up.]

Are you okay?

Edited 2018-09-14 05:01 (UTC)

Quarantine Breached

[He wakes, the darkness dances and an automatic voice echoes throughout the air.

No...this is not a dream.

All hell breaks loose as the automatons begin to move forward, reaching with thin fingers to grab at all they can get their hands on. Some scream, some fight and some run.

The Pale King wanders.

The darkness of this place was no different then his dreams and it is easy to avoid the machines as long as one watches for their eyes. Although they could detect those they were hunting. A form of sensory, to detect certain things? Curious. So very curious. He should take a look.

In an isolated corner, perhaps a place one thought may offer a place of refuge from the rampaging automatons, is the Pale King. Kneeling down on the floor, he glows with a soft and pure white that is marred by the grease on his hands. A fallen automatons lies on the ground and the bug is digging around in the guts of the machine, pulling it apart to see how it works. The chaos around him does not cause the Pale King to flinch but he is not blind as he works, turning to stare at those who approach him.

His eye sockets are as empty as the darkness that consumes this laboratory.]

[ This dream is dark and cold and filled with strange, mechanical voices. An abandoned and broken place.

They wander aimlessly, uncertain. They're not sure when they decided to put their charm on, to take advantage of added height to avoid the grasping automatons or knock them away, but - regardless, they're taller now.

The sound of something that's not mechanical clunking attracts them simply for the novelty, and then they pause. Hovering just at the edge of sight, barely lit by the soft glow that this person emits.

They recognise him, of course. It would be hard to forget him, though not for the reasons he would want.

They simply stand and watch, because it's quieter here, away from all the noise and light that the automatons emit. And they're curious about what he's doing. About him. They've never seen him in more than brief glimpses, shards of memory long in the past. Despite themselves, they are interested, at least for the moment.

And if the Pale King, who had only intended for one vessel to reach maturity, were to mistake them for someone else in the poor lighting of this place, well

that would be unfortunate. ]

(They find themselves, yet again, in a dream.

Though they are capable of fighting, something-tiredness? inability to bring themselves to destroy fellow synthetics?-leads them to avoid it as much as possible, and eventually they stumble upon the stranger in the shadows.

It would be easy, perhaps, to mistake them for one of the guardian units wandering around, with their robotic nature and glowing eye, but the behavior is entirely different. They stop, and stare, headtilting and chattering at this person who bears more than a small resemblance to others they have encountered.)

i. quarantine breached

[In this old building, there are only two sounds, at first. The first is of slow footsteps, each one echoing. The second is a low scrrrrrrraaaaape of metal. It is, perhaps, not the most comforting set of sounds to hear in a place such as this.

But the origin of the sound becomes clear in time, as you spot the tall, lumbering figure. Their movements through the building are sluggish. Possible not helped by the long sword they are dragging behind them, although the weight barely seems to register. The figure only halts at the appearance of the automatons. They're cautious at these new creatures, grip tightening on their blade. That is, until they hear the machines speak... and they pause.

Host. Quarantine. Patient.

Sick.

Sick?

Sick sick sick infection sick plague sealed light only light dawn shall break don't let it suffocate

KILL

There's a clatter. Their blade falling. The Hollow Knight drops to their knees, clutching their head. The automatons see this as nothing but an opportunity to advance.

They might need help.]

ii. drawn to you

[The feeling of being bound is nothing new.

The scribblets had been new. Interesting. Hostile? But there was nothing commanding them to attack anymore and they hadn't wanted to. Then, the lines had been drawn. And now the Hollow Knight is bound to a tree, a line around their waist fastening them. But the tether is not so heavy and they don't feel the need to struggle.

Maybe the desire. But not the need.

...It's a bit of a pathetic looking scene, all things considered. But the Hollow Knight seems more interested in examining these new surroundings than working on getting free.

It's not as if they can ask for help, anyway. And compared to the way they had been bound before... this is downright relaxing.]

[ The scraping of metal, the sound of slow footsteps. It's familiar. It's haunted their restless dreams time and time again, as they remember.

But not like this. Not the same. It's not-

They round a corner in time to see their sibling drop to their knees, defenseless, and that wrenches something inside them.

(But this is not a memory. There is no predetermined outcome. Even if it's a dream, they can-)

They move without thought. Someone to be protected, something to fight; simple facts, falling into place one after the other.

The sound of metal against metal echoes through the empty building as the Knight cuts apart reaching, clawing fingers, hacking fiercely away at the surrounding robots.

I won't let you have them. (Don't go.) ]

[They don't realize what's happening, at first. They don't even realize anything is happening at all, their own thoughts screaming at them too loudly. There's no Radiance, no infection, not anymore. Not here.

But it still lingers.

At some point, they do notice the sounds. Clanging. Metal. Fighting?

The Hollow Knight slowly raises their head. The sight of the bug fighting the machines is enough of a shock to cut through their thoughts. No, not just any bug. They know this sight.

Vessel.

...Sibling?

They can't help but stare, wondering how they are here. Why they are here. And what... they're doing.

Why are they fighting?]

[ They keep fighting. It's what they know best, and besides, it's not like they haven't faced multiple opponents before.

The only difference is that they have to take care of two, not one. Not just themselves, but someone else.

If a robot's hand comes too close to touching the Hollow Knight, still on their knees, it loses that hand, and everything below the elbow, with a violent slash to a joint. If it keeps coming, as they do, then it loses the other hand, too.

They don't worry too much about themselves; they let the automatons come much closer to them before reacting.

Eventually, they've exhausted the robots in this area. Perhaps more will come, but for now there's only the ringing echoes of their combat and silent, fallen shells. No light inside, no movement, not any more. Marked with the repeated slashes of the Knight's gleaming nail.

They --

They don't want to turn, at first. Will it be the same as last time? Will it be the same as it's always been, in their dreams, with that burning, terrible light?

(Will you be there at all? Is it a dream where I can't catch up to you, or when I see you, the dream ends?)

It's the hardest thing, to turn around like there's nothing wrong, to actually look at who they've been fighting so hard for.

But - no, there they are. Just like how they remember, but with a crucial, vital difference. No light inside, no infection, no rage.

They don't move. Just staring, like they can't quite believe what they're seeing. A moment to breathe that they never had before. ]

Edited 2018-09-14 13:44 (UTC)

[The Hollow Knight's stare is broken, finally, as they instead turn their gaze to the remains of the robots. Broken, now. In the most literal sense of the word, many of them in pieces, silent, unmoving.

A part of them thinks no, this is wrong.

Because the machines had been right, hadn't they? They were sick. They... were, right? Still? They could no longer feel it, but perhaps that, too, was just another sign of infection. They should have let the machines take them wherever they intended. Wasn't it... safer that way? Safer for everyone else, if they were locked away again?

They look back at their sibling, uncomprehending. Their head tilts. They can't voice their confusion, but the way the Hollow Knight looks, so utterly lost, might make it clear anyway.

Why?]

Drawn to You

[If Dylan weren't so curious all the time, she could have avoided this mess, though she doesn't think anyone can blame her, in this case. Who wouldn't be curious about what looks like a living crayon drawing?

She approaches one of the more harmless-looking ones, looking over it curiously.]

Jax, are you getting this?

[...right, Jax isn't here. She winces inside her helmet, then steps in closer. Will it still look like this from the side?

She doesn't get a chance to find out. The scribblet snags her with a tether that wraps around her hands, securing them in place to her gun.]

Hey! [She struggles, which makes things worse. She doesn't really want to shoot it, since it still seems relatively harmless, but her hand is still on her gun even if she can't move it, and she fires a shot above the thing's head.

It misses, as she intended, but it doesn't scare it off. Instead, more flock to the sound. Dylan backs up, holding her gun between herself and the mob, and soon finds herself backed up against a tree.]

Oh, come on.

[She's been in weirder situations than this. Recently, even. But that doesn't exactly make it better.]

[ Even if they had still been sick, they would fight to keep them from being taken away again. They had been lonely for so long. It would be cruel to subject them to it once more.

The Hollow Knight's head tilts in confusion, not understanding. The Knight doesn't know why, what they're asking, what they're thinking; they are kindred, and yet there is an aching gulf of experience, of silence, between them. Worlds apart.

But it doesn't matter, does it? It doesn't matter. It matters that they're safe. Without thinking about it, they step close to reach up, to press their forehead to their sibling's.

They're safe now. Safe as they can make it. Just for this moment, it's

not fine, it can never be fine, they can never go back. But it's all right. Better than it was.

I saved you. ]

[It's not a sentiment they can understand. That it would be cruel. That they shouldn't have to be alone.

There's nothing cruel about doing what is necessary.

There's nothing terrible about fulfilling one's purpose.

That's what they were taught, the lessons their father had passed on always with them. Invisible chains binding them, even as the physical ones are gone. They cannot understand the desire to save them.

...But they do understand affection.

This isn't a way it's been expressed to them, before. But as their sibling presses their forehead against theirs, they think they can feel the intention. It's a warmth, much more freely given than any before in their life.

So perhaps they don't understand it. That doesn't stop the Hollow Knight's body from relaxing, ever so slightly, at their sibling's touch. Their head drooping slightly as caution evaporates.

They don't understand their own loneliness, even when it's being soothed. Right now, maybe it doesn't matter if they comprehend it or not. So long as it helps.]

[The darkness was the last thing in the world that would bother Grimm and the machines were easy to dodge for one capable of his speed. Grimm knew the reality of these machines, had met ARUM-25 and knew their willingness to help despite their confusion over their missing memories. These automatons may still have the same desire to help but he cannot say their 'help' will be the same as ARUM-25's. And he did not particularly appreciate being sedated with no warning.

Shutting them down was the only option even if that meant the machines' destruction.

The crack-bang of Grimm teleporting in nearby interrupts the machines' chanting of their commands but he stops dead for a brief minute once he sees who they are advancing on.

The impossible happens here, this Grimm knows. But this is quite the curious impossibility.

But there could be time for his curiosity later. The automatic voices are drowned out by the screech of the Troupe Master's firebats as they stream forward to latch themselves to one of the automatons and begin to melt the metal down to a functionless puddle.

It gets the attention of the rest of the automatons but Grimm is gone again, only to re-appear behind another to smash it with a vicious uppercut.

He does not mind running interference for the Hollow Knight but they will eventually need to get moving.]

[ They can feel that slight relaxation, and it makes them relax in turn, holding on a little more tightly.

(They are siblings bound by the same chains, bindings placed on them at the moment of their birth. Even in breaking away from them, by call and fate the Knight had only come back to the same place.

But it is also a connection, and through it, they can at least share the warmth that the Knight had to learn and the Hollow Knight had been forced to leave behind so long ago.)

It's a soft, kind moment, even in this dark, cold place. They savor it, holding it. Just a little longer.

Eventually, they let go, because it's not practical to stay too long. More machines might appear, after all. They look up at their sibling, tilting their head, and then gesturing at them, a little. Can they get up? Can they walk? Do they need help? They can provide all of these things, if it's needed. ]

[Perhaps there is irony in turning a corner to see the Hollow Knight bound to a tree. The Pale King does not think of it.

Observing from a distance, the Wyrm watches the Hollow Knight look around at their surroundings and he in turn wonders what it means they managed to fall asleep. This is a dream. There was no other way for them to meet each other again. A small child grown when they could not, clad in pure white. The grinding of chains, the snapping of seals put in their proper place.

A child with an arm eaten away by the infection.
(He is not thinking of such things.)

Eventually the Pale King approaches. He never made much noise when he walked but within the darkness his body glows softly and he knows it's impossible to miss.

He stares up at his Hollow Knight, observing their binding. He does not speak but it does not have to do with the Hollow Knight. It has been so long since he spoke to someone in person.

The Pale King has forgotten how to.]

[It takes a little bit, before the Hollow Knight comprehends what their sibling is getting at. However, the gestures to follow are familiar, if only distantly.

It had been a very long time, after all.

But once they understand, they don't waste time to answer in any way. They simply reach behind them, grabbing their nail. And then, slowly, they rise up.

They can move. They can still hold their blade.

The Hollow Knight stares at their sibling, waiting.

Lead the way.]

[There is not much to obtain from simply watching the Pale King. He did not speak to himself as he worked, storing the information he learns from taking the machine apart in his mind. The context of what the machines are lost on him, their history does not matter.

He wanted to see how they worked. That is all and once he is done the Pale King merely wipes the grease on his hands off on the floor and stands.

The silence means it is so very easy to hear any changes to his surroundings. He had not been so foolish to examine this machine without having a way to know if someone approached. There is none of that monotone chanting, so...

When he looks up the Pale King merely stares at the Vessel standing before him. Like the Vessels he created, the Pale King does not have a face to express anything, so if he is feeling shocked at the Knight's presence is impossible to tell.

But their appearance does arrest him for a moment. There is only one Vessel that was allowed to grow, after all, and they are still bound in the Black Egg Temple.

He approaches slowly, watching and observing as he always has. For a moment he does indeed think he is standing before his Hollow Knight, but once he is close enough...

Despite the darkness he can see their horns are different. This is not the Hollow Knight. But the Pale King's curiosity does not leave him and he continues watching them. It is clearly because he is wondering how exactly the Knight was able to grow.

That is all.]

[Taking action is a concept they've grown unfamiliar with. Their whole purpose had been to not take action. To contain, to stay, to resist. Everything they had been taught starting with don't.

Without the light forcing them to move, their instinct is to do nothing at all. to let the machines do whatever it is they intend and not fight it. They were not what he had been meant to resist.

But all those thoughts are interrupted at the sudden appearance of a different type of light. Not the pure radiant light of dawn. This is warmth and crackling and burning.

The melting of metal, not prepared to handle the fiery attacks.

It's curiosity and caution in equal measure that compels them to rise up. It's slow and difficult, but they stand once more. Collecting their nail from the floor before they forget. The weight helps ground them. Even as they do this, they try to keep their gaze focused on Grimm, even with his quick movements.

This is... confusing. And they're not sure what should come next.]

[The Pale King's motions are quick and efficient as they take apart the robot before them. He obviously does not know the history behind these machines but it does not seem to matter much to him as he works. He wished to know how it worked. That is all.

But he also picked this place in particular because it was quite enough for him to notice any changes. And yes, it would be easy to mistaken Legion for another one of these robots but the Pale King does not. Instead he stares back and observes them.

Their plating is smooth with visible tubing, the purpose of such things are unknown. A glowing eye to likely observe and process information and the glow is so they can see in the dark. Bulky and not as bare-bones as the machines attacking...

He goes on for far longer in his mind. The Pale King does not have a face capable of expressing what he is feeling but if Legion has met enough people who looked at them only with the intent of stripping them down to their base components, then his stare will be more then familiar.

He would speak but has long since forgotten how to start, having spent so long within his own dreams.]

[ They tower over him, and it's a strange feeling. They've only ever seen him from below; a motionless figure on a throne, a figure outlined in the grey light of a door about to be closed as they clung to a metal platform.

They'd honestly never really imagined what they would do, if they were to meet him. They have many questions, most of them angry ones, but it was impossible to convey without a voice.

They just watch him approach, head tilting slightly, not taking their eyes off him. The strange charm pinned to their cloak shines in the light he emits.

There is a certain hostility in their stare. Calm and still for the moment, but poised to spring if given the right catalyst to do so. Like the darkness he moulded into shape so long ago.

Whatever their feelings, they certainly don't seem happy about his presence. Wary at best. ]

[It's a new and novel experience. Seeing something new. A new environment. Even bound, still, it's all so different.

Even if they had been able to voice it, they never would have complained about being confined to the same room. It was their purpose to be there. But there's something almost... freeing... about seeing this new place.

Then, of course, they see something familiar.

They recognize the white immediately. How could they not? This figure had been that what was most important to them. The Hollow Knight's head turns immediately to face him.

The surroundings, the situation, all of it is forgotten. Unimportant. They only care about the bug in front of them.

Father.]

[ They're not sure where to lead to, but dreams are malleable things. Perhaps if they keep going, thinking of a way out, it will lead to a way out.

These things don't last forever, so they should make use of the time they have now.

Rather than start walking and expect them to follow along behind, it's -- they don't want to lead them that way.

(It would be too easy for them to disappear, to be lost. To fall behind like they did, so long ago.

Perhaps someone else would have been envious of the Hollow Knight, the chosen child. The one picked to be taken away from the Abyss, the pit of corpses that was all that remained of their siblings, and given a chance to live in the world above it.

The Knight is not. They cannot be, would never be. It is unthinkable. Only pity and sadness for the burden their sibling had to shoulder.

Only love for the one lost to light.)

They fall back to their sibling's side. The Hollow Knight has only one hand, using it to hold their sword, but that's okay. They loosely grasp their sibling's wrist, and gently tug at them, indicating they should follow.

They walk. The dark, twisting corridors choked by vines change, eventually. Becoming the more natural, less claustrophobic darkness of a forest. But the Knight isn't concentrating on that; they're concentrating on the movements of the person next to them, on the point of contact between them like there's nothing else in the world.

There is nothing else more important than this. ]

[For the briefest of moments, Grimm wished his abilities as the Nightmare King were reflected in his mortal vessel. Those fire pillars would make short work of things.

He would also burn down the building and that monstrous God would leak into reality. So no.

Grimm's movements are quick and flashy, bending it into the vicious dances he was well known for. A God who regulated his powers into the mere tricks of a performer was still a God and Grimm is still powerful. But the machines had the advantage of pure numbers so no matter how many he reduced to melted trash, another would always take its place.

Eventually Grimm teleports back to the Hollow Knight's side.]

I would offer a better greeting then these machines, my friend, but sadly I cannot. Would you mind giving me a hand to stop their advance?

[He cannot do it alone.]

[It is not so strange for the Vessel to be taller then him. The Pale King's stature was certainly...small so it is very easy to achieve a height taller then the Wyrm. It is strange to see another Vessel grown to such a height, however.

The charm hints as to how they managed such a thing without his help.

The Pale King observes it for a moment and wonders where they managed to find such a thing before finally turning his attention onto the Knight, staring up at them with his empty eye sockets. Endlessly observing them, taking apart any changes in their physical appearance before finally finding his voice.]

This dream...why are you here?

[The Knight was not his Hollow Knight. Why are they not in the Abyss?]

[It's a request, not an order, or a demand.

But it's close enough.

Without even giving it a moment's thought, the Hollow Knight tightens the grip on their nail and they lunge. The second they're no longer helpless on the floor, they're a force to be reckoned with. There's a clatter as the bisected remains of an automaton fall down, felled in an instant. The next few are taken care of just as quickly, in a swift series of slashes.

With no infection to slow them down, there's little holding them back. And fighting like this... it's second nature. Right now, as they are, they could do this all day.

They don't have to be in their right mind to take care of a foe.]

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TEST DRIVE MEME ( 015 )

The Guardian | OTA

The Pale King | OTA

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the hollow knight | hollow knight | everything is spoilers

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Dylan Andrews | Red vs Blue

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