unhollowed | A Hollow Knight Catchall

Where they emerged, half blinded and stumbling into the sheer light of the surface, they didn't know. The flood of brilliance however, was terrifying. Unable to locate the entrance back to those cool, quiet, empty tunnels, they found other places to hide instead, until the panic faded.

It wasn't her though, was it. Bright, but the sound of that booming, all encompassing voice was absent. The call of animals they knew not the names of, the rustling of leaves in the wind. Not silent, not like the tomb of a kingdom they'd accidentally escaped from, but no less unwelcome. If anything, they found after a time, the noise became calming.

The novelty of life a memory of times long past.

It wasn't until noon had passed that they would creep out from whatever cave they'd found that would fit them, dragging their weapon behind them, before utilizing it as a makeshift cane. They'd almost be taller than a few of the younger trees here, and they'd be forced to walk stooped and hunched, not a terribly difficult thing to do though, considering their current injured state.

They didn't even make it very far from that cave before they chose to rest again, having followed the sound of a flock of chatty sparrows to an old, large oak tree. It was there that they chose again to slowly sink to the ground, back propped against the wood, wondering at the sky above them and the sound of birds, the feeling of cool, fresh air on their face.

They really never even noticed when they lost consciousness, slipping into some state similar to sleep as the sparrows, once fled, returned to perch upon their horns. They'd not be disturbed by it, by all appearances dead to the world.

Tugging along a picnic basket and...what seemed like several books, Belle had found the company of the outdoors in the nearby forest much more welcoming than the townspeople. They'd still eyed her, talked behind her back, while all she did was...prefer her books over much anything else.
A few moments into the walk, she'd been distracted by the chirruping of the many different birds, the chatter of a squirrel. She'd actually, closed her book.

She deposits the book into her picnic basket, just in wonder at all the different creatures who seemed just as curious as she was. A brave little squirrel approached the back of her heels, climbing up the back of her skirt with intent of sneaking into her basket.

"Hello, you." Busted. She doesn't stop walking, taking the little fella with her, as he's rummaging around in her basket. "Just save some for me, or it'll be a very short picnic."

She continues along, turning around in wonder, walking backwards for a moment until she bumps into something (someone?) quite unusual. The sparrows scatter, chittering and chirping at her presence.

"Oh---!" What a strange....tree?

They never heard her coming. Exhaustion ran too deeply, they could have slept through almost anything at this point.

Almost anything, except being run into by a being a bit more substantial than a little sparrow. The birds scatter, and they jerk awake. As tall as they were, even while sitting they could look down upon the strange creature before them. Not that they did so for long, their reaction time and instincts a bit too well honed for that.

The sudden, frantic scramble to get up the tree was a spectacle indeed, their weapon used as a clumsy, but efficient enough climbing tool as they clambered with only one arm upwards into the branches, taking themselves all the higher above their new, unidentifiable company. Not a sound from them, despite all the obvious panic, other than the rattle of branches and the faint clink of broken chains, their nail gouging long slashes in the trunk until they were sure they were high enough.

Not really a good hiding place though, but hey.

Out of range.

Vash, at this point, would be known enough in this near no-name little town. Loud, a bit eccentric, well liked by the kids, he'd be just another wanderer in a sea of them that'd pass through now and again, he wasn't anyone of note.

But... the kids liked him. It wasn't often that they got someone new to play with, and hey, he'd liked their games well enough. It was generally accepted that he was no good at playing cops and robbers, far too easy a target for little sucker guns and the occasional ball upside the head, but that didn't make him any less fun!

In fact, if anything, it made him a little easier to trust than the stodgy, grim adults of the place.

Which was why he was who one girl turned to today. She'd been frantic, wringing her doll in her hands, babbling about an injured friend her and the rest of her playmates had found not far from town. They weren't able to come into town, she'd insist. They were very hurt, and while they'd been active and pleasant at first, if shy, their energy had fallen over the course of the week.

Dying, that was the word she used, a grim term for anyone who barely looked like they were old enough to be in grade school. Her friend was dying, and they needed someone to help them.

There was of course, this added note, that she was concerned the other adults might not like her friend at all.

"Don't tell them, please. Don't tell them, mister."

It's a startling sound, and Belle backs up, away from the 'tree'. She nearly trips, and the squirrel friend leaps from the basket, out of harm's way himself. They both seemed to be....quite terrified of each other.

After a beat, she notices his hesitance, and Belle stops backing away. The...creature didn't seem threatening, despite his appearance outwardly. But it was nothing like she'd ever seen before in her whole life.

"H-Hello?"

Whatever it was, they look...ethereal. Up in the tree they couldn't get at her, or so she thought. She gingerly peers up into it, and presses her lip into a line.

"A-Are you alright? I'm sorry I startled you."

There, perched up on the highest, thickest branch that could handle their weight, they stared down at her, nail clutched in their only hand, the tip of it buried in the wood, as they took a moment to make heads or tails of the being they stared down at.

No claws nor mandibles, no wings, no carapace to protect her. A soft, pink, small thing, though far more elegant looking than a grub. What bug was she? No tribe they'd heard tell of or seen looked anything like her.

She spoke, and their head tilted faintly. An apology. For startling them. They seemed to mull over this, the tattered remains of long ago rusted and rotted chainmail and cloak gently clinking with every move and soft draft of wind. The only sound they'd actually make.

Slowly, they'd move, if only to lean forward from their perch and peer at her. Their face unmoving, the head would appear more like a mask than anything real or organic, the question was asked through their body language alone as they sank their weapon into the tree before releasing it, to point at her with one long, sharp finger.

What are you?

Vash didn't like the serious nature that the girl approached her with. It was another thing the kids liked about this broom head stranger. That he listened to them and always took them seriously. "I won't tell them." Vash promises and hopes he won't have to break that promise. If someone was dying then he would be forced to, but hopefully whoever their friend is they're not actually dying.

So he lets hem lead him to a cave. Vash wondering what kind of friend these kids had made. Probably an outlaw of some sort if he can't come into the village. He thinks he prepared to see whatever it is the kids want to show him.

He was wrong.

No, it was no outlaw.

The creature that lay slumped against the wall in that cave was tall. Should it have stood, it's long, serrated horns would have scraped the top of the cavern easily. Thin and elegant in their composition, the creature was covered not in soft flesh, but hardened chitin, the remains of ancient chain mail and tattered cloth wrapped around it. Some long ago decayed remnants of rather illustrious armor.

Their weapon lay not far from them, the blade nearly the same size as Vash was, cracked, notched and well used, though it seemed in their state now, they were in no shape to utilize it.

The children didn't seem to find them frightening at all, by the time Vash would arrive, one was settled in this almost motionless creature's lap, trying to encourage them to raise their heavy, clearly cracked head for a drink. Something it looked like they were refusing to do, turning their head away every time the cup was presented. For the moment, it'd seem as if Vash was unnoticed by the creature, the little girl who led him there emphatically pointing them out.

"Please, they won't get up..."

Suddenly Vash wishes he and the Knight haven't parted ways. "I don't think he needs to drink water." Vash says calmly as he slowly approaches this new creature. He doesn't know what he's going to do. He has a feeling the small medical kit he brought isn't going to be much good. First step was to see if this one is as friendly as the last or not as he slowly comes closer.

A creak, the sound of a thousand rusted little chains rattling and rubbing together, as their head lolled back and up. They'd noticed him. The children were one thing, tiny and soft. Their little voices didn't trouble them, and they'd taken comfort in their presence. Children weren't potentially dangerous.

But adults, those were another story. Unable to fight and unable to flee, they had no choice but to dig in and stand their ground, unsure of how deadly the approaching creature was. No, they'd still not figured out what kind of being anyone here was, only that the little ones were friendly enough.

Big ones, they weren't sold on yet.

The towering Knight would still easily loom over Vash, even while sitting, their head raised well above what they thought might be striking range. As the child in their lap tugged at the ragged tatters of their cloak in an effort to get them to lower their head, they moved to curl the one arm they still had around the little one, openly splaying long and sharp fingers in front of the distracted boy in a makeshift shield.

A defensive maneuver, perhaps concerned the child might be removed from them.

Vash holds out his hands with palms up. "Whoa, whoa." He says softly and stops moving forward. He doesn't think he will hurt the child, but it's better to be safe than sorry. "I'm not here to hurt to hurt you. I want to help." He tries to give a gentle smile to show he was friendly. "You can understand me, right?"

They could, yes. Another tug on their cloak from the child finally had them lowering their head in small, careful increments, coaxed by both the insistence of the children, and by Vash's calm demeanor.

Lower, until they were huddled over the child still clinging to them, the creature's wide and flat head akin to a shield as they met Vash with a cautious, but quizzical look. He'd finally get a response, a short, curt nod, the boy they held managing to squirm out of their grasp and pop his head around the Knight's.

"He won't eat or drink or get up or anything." Perhaps the first two wouldn't be a surprise to Vash, but the little creature that had parted ways with him had been very energetic. In direct contrast to this one, it'd appear.

"That's okay." He says to the child with a warm smile. "I don't think he needs to eat and drink." Good. There was an Adult(tm) who knew the answers. Most adults were stupid, but all kids know there's always one that had the answer to all of life's questions. "How long have you been here for?" Maybe he just needed a rest? Although the small Knight he had found didn't seem to ever stop moving.

How long had they been here... It took a moment to think of how to answer. At first, they lingered on the admission from this larger bug, that he knew they felt no need to eat or drink. How? How would he know that? Unlike their youngest sibling, they had an idea of what both of those were. They'd been around bugs who needed both of these.

They knew it was nothing they needed.

How would he know this though? Still, they reached upwards, and touched the crack upon their face, before shaking their head. They didn't know how long. Sorry, Vash. The boy they'd been huddled over finally managed to pull himself entirely free of the Knight, perplexed as he pulled his hand away from them.

"His coat is wet..." Well, the boy wouldn't know what 'cloak' was. But the shimmering, brilliant, glowing white liquid, quickly becoming congealed and tacky, might be an indication of what the actual problem behind the Knight's lethargy was.

That doesn't sound good. "I'm coming closer, okay?" Vash starts to move closer. Wishing to kneel next to the bug, but he will stop if the Knight makes any move against him or seems hostile in any way. "Do you kids remember when you found him?"

Well... yes, they had been injured. They hadn't forgotten. The wound had never closed properly, but that was only to be expected, considering how deep it was. How deeply they'd buried their blade in themselves in a last ditch, desperate effort to help. To continue their duty, no matter what the cost might be.

"A couple days...?" A few murmured words between each other, trying to remember exactly, but 'a couple days' with a wound that had clearly been getting worse and worse was a couple days too many nevertheless.

As Vash approached, they would hunch over again, the man presented again with their broad and horned head, the black eyes in it looked upon him. Even expressionless, the motion was clear.

They were scared. Perhaps understandably, considering how badly hurt they seemed to be.

"I want to help." Vash tries to speak softly. Moving painfully slow in his advancement forward. "I met someone like you not too long ago. Only they were a lot smaller." He says this with a chuckle as he lowers down to his knees. "I wonder if you two are friends. I wish he was still here because I think he would know how to help you more, but he sort of ran off. Excitable little guy."

"What?" she replies, not exactly sure what they're asking.

"I'm...me?" she asks, unsure. They're still so strange looking, she can't make heads or tails of them.

"Are you hurt?"

He'd met another...? ... Oh, the little knight. Their sibling... They shift, lifting their head in faint, but obvious interest. He had met the youngest of them, truly? It was difficult to mime the correct word. 'Friends' didn't quite encapsulate the feeling they had, when the blinding light of the Radiance cleared away enough where they could see the Knight.

He wanted to help, he'd met the Knight, and he still stood and breathed so... they must have trusted him.

If family trusted this bug, perhaps they ought to as well.

Slowly, silently, though with no small amount of pained hesitation, they would pull back, picking at the rusted chainmail that covered their chest and tugging at the ancient, dirty, tattered cloak. The damage beneath it was clear, part pale fluid, whatever was left of the now dead infection.

And part pitch black mist, snaking upwards from the wound that they still, even now, hesitated to reveal. Instead, a gesture.

They saw the silver gleam in the folds of Vash's coat. If they were not strong enough to reach for their weapon, he should not have his either.

It's going to be hard, to ask questions without words. They waver on the branch, not keen on that answer. 'Me' wasn't a type of bug after all, did she not know what she was? ... Not so alien a concept to them, really.

Hurt though. They weren't sure if they liked the idea of that being obvious. Their hand pulled back, to rest upon their chest, balance still perfect on the branch despite their unwieldy size.

Yes.

Their attention shifted back, the head cocked. Apparently, they weren't sure why anyone would be concerned.

At first Vash doesn't understand the gesture. So focused on what he was going to do to help that he didn't even think about his gun. "Oh! Okay." Once again he moves slow as he reaches down. "I'm going to remove it and set it to the side, okay?" He tries to move in a way that the Knight can watch his every move. Removing his pistol from his side Vash then opens the barrel. There were kids around and he didn't want any of them picking up his weapon and shoot themselves with it. He dumps the bullets out and sets them both aside.

"I have some bandages. I'm going to reach into my coat and take them out." He'll take out a small med kit out of his pocket unless the Knight tries to stop him.

Unlike the Knight, they knew a potential weapon when they saw one. And unlike the Knight... they feared what might happen should they be struck with one now. They watched, motionless, as Vash removed the gun, and the cartridges inside, not at all curious as to the construction of the weapon. The only thing that really mattered was that it was rendered, if only temporarily, useless.

He'd be allowed to work without being interrupted, the mute creature simply watching as the med kit was removed. It was only then, when they'd be allowed to see the inside of the kit, and Vash's gun clearly empty and off to the side, that they'd remove the rusted, ancient chainmail, the cloak pulled off along with it. A clumsy act, considering they had but one arm, but they managed it.

The black carapace beneath was split. The liquid was already running dry, but it wasn't the remnants of the infection that concerned them. With the Radiance dead, no one here was at risk of becoming contaminated.

It was the stream now of thick, shadowy fog, nearly appearing to be a liquid in it's own right it was so thick, that concerned them. It slipped free of the large, jagged wound upon their chest, the length and shape of it suggesting it was the work of some large blade. The crack upon their head only leaked that black substance in the tiniest of increments, that was slowly healing.

But this had only worsened. Now exposed, they almost immediately moved to cover the wound again, perhaps to stem the black shadow that seeped from it, or perhaps to simply hide it again from Vash, still afraid they might yet be attacked in this moment of weakness.

That's the thing; Belle doesn't know she's alien to anything. In fact, the concept of alien? Was beyond comprehension at present. Maybe fantastical? Maybe a faerie? Maybe a fantasy?

Still, she looks...concerned. She asked if they were hurt, mostly on her account. She was worried that she'd stepped on them, or hurt them in some way, but...

"Can...Can I help you? Will you be alright? Goodness, I'm sorry, I...I didn't mean to."

Vash can't help but to stare at that fog. What was he suppose to do to stop that? Remove a bullet? Stitch up a cut? Set a bone? There were so many things he had done to heal himself in the past, but he didn't even know the first thing to do for this.

Eventually Vash does the only thing he can think of to do. Taking out the largest bandage his small medkit has he slowly reaches forward to press against the wound. "Is this okay? I'm not hurting you by doing this, am I?"

No, it didn't hurt. But it also wasn't going to close the wound. They knew what to do.

They just... didn't want to. Not out of any desire to die, no. Despite everything, despite what they'd been through and escaped, it would be... wrong. To try to die now.

Their shoulders hunch as Vash presses against the wound, and they reach for his hand. Not to push him away, but to redirect. They were going to need that bandage, but they also needed more than one hand.

Carefully, they'd try to shift Vash's hand to one side of the fissure, before they'd take their own hand, and press. Close the wound. The crack had to be pressed shut, each side must meet the other, and be bound there.

Judging by the creak of the chitin, and the way their body jerked, it was not a painless process.

But it was the one that they knew worked.

Vash doesn't stop the strange creature as he redirects his hand. He catches on pretty quickly what he wanted. "Alright." Vash positions himself a little better. Making sure his left robotic arm is in the best position to take on the most weight. He takes a deep breath. "On three. One. Two. THREE!" Vash pushes with all his might. Telling himself not to listen to any painful noise the bug makes as he can't let himself get too distracted. It would be best if he can get this done as quickly as possible. "I'm sorry." Although he still feels bad about it.

It hurt, it hurt so much, and while they themselves made no sound, the remnants of the chains that bound them rattled as they shook in pain, their head slowly sinking as the fissure was forced shut.

Then, only then, did they jerk their head towards the bandage. Bind them now before they lost the strength to keep this wound shut, they certainly wouldn't be able to do this for much longer.

He doesn't need to indicate twice. Vash snatches at the bandages and starts to wrap it around as quickly as he can. Pulling the bandages tightly until the cut is completely covered and the bandage is knotted in place. "Done! Are you okay? Er-- okay-ish?"

The creaking was intense, the sound of it was almost painful enough, but at last the wound was forced shut and bound. Then, only then, did they let go, their body falling limp as they collapsed against the wall to collect themselves.

Well... They were going to be better than they were, they supposed. The horns scraped against the wall as they dipped their head for a moment. They're okay.

Not dead.

"Hey!" Vash leans forward in concern that perhaps the pain had been too much. "You alright? Is there anything more I can do to make you comfortable?"

A Hollow Knight Catchall

4 Belle

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4 Vash

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SORRY im distracted

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IT OKAY

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