Life anew...

[blossomtherootvessel]

Reborn... something new?

Hello, everyone, and this is the former blog for my OC, Entropy the Vessel. Entropy has since moved on, and what remains is called Blossom.

The daily posts will explain what they've become and there's some very long lore to explain.

My standard RP (and general) blog rules apply. No bigots, creeps, politics, or preachers. Also, at least for now, please don't hurt them, they're literally a baby plant/flower.

Featured Tags (Hardly any yet):

Blooming: Daily artwork.

Watering: Interactions.

Lore & links below cut.

Effectively, Entropy was my crossover OC between Hollow Knight & Rain World. They were the first vessel that hatched and ended up falling into the sea of void, before somehow ending up wandering timelines and extremely faraway places. They got a Rot infestation at some point, eventually making peace with it and having it become a part of them.

Fast forward to later, when Entropy returned to the HK universe, wandering across the lands of Hallownest and Pharloom to locate the Pale King and White Lady. Using some combination of dream magic, memory manipulation, and timeline hopping, they accessed alternate timelines through the memories of those two and retrieved Kingsoul. They then returned to the Abyss, and using Kingsoul, focused, which removed the Shade from their body and gave the vessel itself (the living part, which manifested itself in the form of flowers) a chance to live. The Pale King since deposited that flower, and the Kingsoul, in the resting grounds.

The tags used, old and new, are below. There's also a link to the gallery artwork for Entropy located here. The final bit of Entropy's arc can be located here.

The tags were:

Spoilers, for RW spoilers.

Through the Ripple, for general posting.

Entangling, for interaction with other characters.

Mindless jellies and floaters, for anon interactions.

Pictures of the Past, for serious lore.

Abyssal Path, for serious RP that wasn't arc-relevant.

Completing the Circle, for events leading up to the final arc.

[the-wraiths-collective]

*The flowers trailing through the Mist pulse rhythmically with every drop of soul of the Kingsoul, faraway across the mist, glowing white and pale...*

*They shine through the smog, pure, the thin stems supporting the soft, stringy flowerheads, a pulsing film of soul between veinlike edges, like strange, fluid petals. The shine is entrancing, and the scent of fresh-woven silk emanates from the core of the plant*

*And the wraiths are so hungry...*

@blossomtherootvessel

[A wraith floats downwards, finding its way to the flowers. Then another, and another.]

[The collective does not think twice before absorbing the silk.]

[blossomtherootvessel]

*The silk is slowly absorbed through the film around the flowers, causing the structure of the plants to collapse*

*Slowly, after agonizing minutes, more silk is scented as the flowers are revitalized, an endless drip drip drip that slowly brings the petals back up to face upwards, despite having been drained only minutes ago. The flowers are slightly different shaped now.*

*Over in Hallownest, a charm, and a flower, dim slightly as soul is rerouted to regenerate part of itself. A slight strain.*

[the-wraiths-collective]

[The wraiths go back to the flowers. For the first time in a while, they feel their hunger has almost fully dissapeared.]

[blossomtherootvessel]

*Yet again, the flowers reshape themselves. The stringy strands have slowly twisted, layered slightly as the stem thickens. More silk is woven again, but this time in the thicker petals. Soul layered upon silk upon soul...*

*More soul is forced from the charm, widening the crack in Kingsoul and allowing more energy, more life, to flow freely.*

*The problem of sustenance seems to have been fixed, at least for now.*

[the-wraiths-collective]

*The flowers trailing through the Mist pulse rhythmically with every drop of soul of the Kingsoul, faraway across the mist, glowing white and pale...*

*They shine through the smog, pure, the thin stems supporting the soft, stringy flowerheads, a pulsing film of soul between veinlike edges, like strange, fluid petals. The shine is entrancing, and the scent of fresh-woven silk emanates from the core of the plant*

*And the wraiths are so hungry...*

@blossomtherootvessel

[A wraith floats downwards, finding its way to the flowers. Then another, and another.]

[The collective does not think twice before absorbing the silk.]

[blossomtherootvessel]

*The silk is slowly absorbed through the film around the flowers, causing the structure of the plants to collapse*

*Slowly, after agonizing minutes, more silk is scented as the flowers are revitalized, an endless drip drip drip that slowly brings the petals back up to face upwards, despite having been drained only minutes ago. The flowers are slightly different shaped now.*

*Over in Hallownest, a charm, and a flower, dim slightly as soul is rerouted to regenerate part of itself. A slight strain.*

[blossomtherootvessel]

Gallery

Entropy the Vessel (thanks to @ajithink for doing the art for this one)

Another piece by AJ, being Entropy's flowers!

Entropy's flower crown on @child-of-weaver-and-wyrm, made by the blog owner (apologies for another ping, this is for credit and documentation)

Entropy at the end of their arc, made by yours truly.

Entropy's theme (made myself)

Visit Original Link

[blossomtherootvessel]

Thank you, everyone!

Thanks for participating in the arc with my OC! (Participants were @glacier-the-vessel, @wardenfly-of-the-slab, @see-me-your-knight, @the-wraiths-collective, @phathom-the-wraith, @phantom-offical, @child-of-weaver-and-wyrm, @abyssal-bloom, @white-lady-official, and especially @the-pale-king for finishing the arc!).

I promise you'll get more content in a little while, but for now, you'll have to make do with daily artwork and occasional news!

Now I gotta update the pinned post. Cheers!

[blossomtherootvessel]

Final Call

It has been quite a bit of time. Entropy has been at the bottom of the Abyss. Pondering the Void. Planting flower seeds in the husks of vessels that were not within reach of their scatterings. Tapping the lifeblood door with their sickle. Climbing the lighthouse. But now, Entropy merely sits at the center of a pile of vessel husks, waiting and watching.

An end is near.

Not an end. A new beginning. A second chance for Blossom.

It is our ending.

It is not the end of us. Merely the end of this chapter of life.

And where will we go? Back to wandering?

...No. I will return to the Void, where our true siblings wait.

And me?

You will be there as well.

...I see.

Lady Root's cutting is turning grey, but it has enough light left in it. All they need is one more light, and the memory of Kingsoul can bring them to a new dawn.

@the-pale-king

[the-pale-king]

*he hadn't meant to go so soon but the longer he allows the problem to fester the more damage will be done; returning the two vats of void back to whence it came is the least he can do but, still, stood there upon that same pier looking down into the darkness below that he'd stood upon all those years ago... it is... strangely comforting. everything around him seems to have changed so quickly, seems to have spiraled out of control and yet this. this stays the same. the two vats are dumped, the black fluid within thrashing and writhing as it spills over the edge, returning home. he should do that too and yet...

he lingers.

a ghost caught in old memories, something trapped in between. he had come here with more than one goal in mind. his wings flutter silently behind him, nervous and unsure... he... he should go down there, see for himself the truth of what he'd wrought, yes? the quiet air embraces him as he takes flight, diving down into the depths of darkness; familiar

except... something is different.

something has... changed?

he squints as the bottom blooms before him, a near endless grave of regret and... is that... a figure? yes. and he knows this one, the shapes blur in his vision but he knows them...*

I had not expected to meet another down her. Or perhaps I did. Tis strange how our paths meet here of all places, child, or... maybe tis not. Is this where thou hast been since last we spoke? Amongst this gloom and sadness?

[blossomtherootvessel]

Entropy slowly turns their head up, lifting a hand before dropping it again. A droplet of Void falls from the limb before they put it back. "This is where I have been, yes. It is an important place. Memories not my own pervade here."

...

Entropy seems oddly silent, as they take the parts of Kingsoul; one half cracked open and the other glowing brilliantly, and slot them together. Soul begins to be produced from the charm, an endless drip drip drip from whatever realm the charm draws from.

"I must ask something from you. I will be gone soon, and what remains here, I need you to take good care of it. Of them."

Entropy affix the charm to their chest slightly, gripping the sickle, and looking you in the eyes. "If it is left here, the void will seep into their roots, and it will die. You need to take them, with the Kingsoul, and put them somewhere safe. Understood?"

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king is quiet. not the kind of quiet where all you can do is think heavy thoughts, mull over every choice that brought you here, but the kind of quiet one is when standing before a grave. it is leaden, still, empty, hollow even, but still he still walks through the old dead shells to stand properly by Entropy's side, his gaze aimed upwards, peering through the shade*

Then thou art going away now? ...I wilt not stop thou from doing what thou will but... is thou not afraid? No no, I suppose it is yet another journey for thou, is it not?

...What remains I shalt take, I shalt keep safe, tis the least I can do and yet, a part of me wonders where thou shalt go. Will you just be gone or is there somewhere waiting for you? A place vacant wishing to be filled? It matters no longer; thine mind is set, fate and the turn of the world has brought us here and now we merely go forwards; to anywhere and everywhere.

I understand what thou asks... I shalt keep thou from this no longer.

[blossomtherootvessel]

Entropy remains silent as the Kingsoul slots into their shell, feeling a fresh trickle of Soul in their shell. The first life they have felt in such long time.

"Thank you.... Father."

And then Entropy begins to focus, directing the soul inwards.

Soul flows from the crack in Kingsoul, but a drop from an endless ocean of it contained within the charm. At first, nothing seems to happen, as the Void and Rot within Entropy's shell is slowly sated by the endless stream of lifeforce. Then a sound is heard; a quiet shuffling, slight cracking of the hollow shells. The sound of something separating.

Darkness pools, flowing from beneath Entropy's cloak as the dark haze, the signs in the hollow eyes that something lives within fading as Entropy's shade detaches from the husk it has inhabited.

And then the Abyss is slowly engulfed in soft, pale light, as all the black flowers Entropy has planted flourish, soul flowing from their husk through the roots, up into the stems, turning the field of skulls into a flower field. The flowers climb up the wall, and out into the world beyond.

The flowers wind through the Ancient Basin, up through Deepnest, and into the Queen's Gardens, producing a brilliant flash as they blossom in the chamber where @white-lady-official dwells. More veins of flowers blossom further, stretching far across the wastes, through dreams and the husk of a fallen bug, before leading into Shellwood, then Bellhart, leading like ivy up to wrap around @child-of-weaver-and-wyrm's bellhome. And then the flowers grow further, through Sinner's Road, leaving a glowing trail through the Mist, catching the attention of @the-wraiths-collective and @phathom-the-wraith as they blossom, then through the Exhaust Organ. The wreath Entropy left behind suddenly flares to life in @phantom-offical's chambers before they spread further. Up the elevator, and in the Stage where @trobbio-official is, wherever the flowers have been placed. The glow brightens as it nears the Cradle, emboldened by the surrounding flora as they wreath the elevator. The ugly black blooms that marred the white roses of the Cradle suddenly turn a brilliant white, catching @see-me-your-knight's gaze. They wind through the Citadel, the Slab, up Mount Fay to where Entropy first entered these lands. And then perhaps they spread beyond.

And back at the Abyss the largest bloom sprouts from the dead vessel's skull, pulsing with every wave of Soul flowing from the Kingsoul. Entropy's shade hovers beside; twice the size of the husk it inhabited, white marks of Rot down their arm, while their eyes glow with a soft indigo light. Still holding their sickle. The flower crown left behind.

They bow slightly, pulling the Pale King into a hug, ephemeral form clutching the Wyrm.

And then the cold splash of Void runs down your fingers, and Entropy seeps through the skulls to return to the endless night they came from.

And all that is left is the flowers.

[blossomtherootvessel]

Final Call

It has been quite a bit of time. Entropy has been at the bottom of the Abyss. Pondering the Void. Planting flower seeds in the husks of vessels that were not within reach of their scatterings. Tapping the lifeblood door with their sickle. Climbing the lighthouse. But now, Entropy merely sits at the center of a pile of vessel husks, waiting and watching.

An end is near.

Not an end. A new beginning. A second chance for Blossom.

It is our ending.

It is not the end of us. Merely the end of this chapter of life.

And where will we go? Back to wandering?

...No. I will return to the Void, where our true siblings wait.

And me?

You will be there as well.

...I see.

Lady Root's cutting is turning grey, but it has enough light left in it. All they need is one more light, and the memory of Kingsoul can bring them to a new dawn.

@the-pale-king

[the-pale-king]

*he hadn't meant to go so soon but the longer he allows the problem to fester the more damage will be done; returning the two vats of void back to whence it came is the least he can do but, still, stood there upon that same pier looking down into the darkness below that he'd stood upon all those years ago... it is... strangely comforting. everything around him seems to have changed so quickly, seems to have spiraled out of control and yet this. this stays the same. the two vats are dumped, the black fluid within thrashing and writhing as it spills over the edge, returning home. he should do that too and yet...

he lingers.

a ghost caught in old memories, something trapped in between. he had come here with more than one goal in mind. his wings flutter silently behind him, nervous and unsure... he... he should go down there, see for himself the truth of what he'd wrought, yes? the quiet air embraces him as he takes flight, diving down into the depths of darkness; familiar

except... something is different.

something has... changed?

he squints as the bottom blooms before him, a near endless grave of regret and... is that... a figure? yes. and he knows this one, the shapes blur in his vision but he knows them...*

I had not expected to meet another down her. Or perhaps I did. Tis strange how our paths meet here of all places, child, or... maybe tis not. Is this where thou hast been since last we spoke? Amongst this gloom and sadness?

[blossomtherootvessel]

Entropy slowly turns their head up, lifting a hand before dropping it again. A droplet of Void falls from the limb before they put it back. "This is where I have been, yes. It is an important place. Memories not my own pervade here."

...

Entropy seems oddly silent, as they take the parts of Kingsoul; one half cracked open and the other glowing brilliantly, and slot them together. Soul begins to be produced from the charm, an endless drip drip drip from whatever realm the charm draws from.

"I must ask something from you. I will be gone soon, and what remains here, I need you to take good care of it. Of them."

Entropy affix the charm to their chest slightly, gripping the sickle, and looking you in the eyes. "If it is left here, the void will seep into their roots, and it will die. You need to take them, with the Kingsoul, and put them somewhere safe. Understood?"

[blossomtherootvessel]

Final Call

It has been quite a bit of time. Entropy has been at the bottom of the Abyss. Pondering the Void. Planting flower seeds in the husks of vessels that were not within reach of their scatterings. Tapping the lifeblood door with their sickle. Climbing the lighthouse. But now, Entropy merely sits at the center of a pile of vessel husks, waiting and watching.

An end is near.

Not an end. A new beginning. A second chance for Blossom.

It is our ending.

It is not the end of us. Merely the end of this chapter of life.

And where will we go? Back to wandering?

...No. I will return to the Void, where our true siblings wait.

And me?

You will be there as well.

...I see.

Lady Root's cutting is turning grey, but it has enough light left in it. All they need is one more light, and the memory of Kingsoul can bring them to a new dawn.

@the-pale-king

[blossomtherootvessel]

Circle's End

Entropy reaches the top of the Abyss, gazing down at it, before sitting at the edge.

How cruel...

"..."

...

Why do you return here? You have the means to the end. Why delay it?

...

"The others. They got no second chance. I cannot give them that, but I owe it to them as much as we owe it to them."

...

They need a name.

"They all deserve names."

But you cannot give them that.

"They still deserve some small justice."

...

Call them Blossom.

...

"I think I will."

Entropy places their hands beneath their cloak, before standing, taking a handful of flower seeds they collected, and begins scattering them down the Abyss.

And then they descend as well.

[the-pale-king]

As you lay in your nest, a monarchfly flutters over to the window, drawn to your pale light.

The monarchfly bumps into the window, bouncing back a bit, before flying forwards again. Its legs, instead of using them to land, clasp what looks like part of a Royal Retainer's cloak, rolled into a scroll and bound with black flowers.

Black flowers that look strangely like the one that grew in front of you some time ago.

The monarchfly eventually finds a way through the windowpane, fluttering down to the nest and depositing the scroll.

Opening it, a large drawing of the ruins of the Palace Grounds unfurls, marked with a drawing of flowers covering the broken entrance. And below that, written in somewhat professional yet clearly handwritten calligraphy, is a message for you.

"Pale King. I hope you are healthy when you read this.

I require your presence, and your aid. Come to the place of this drawing.

~ The Vessel First Hatched, Entropy."

@entropythevessel

*he looks over the sketch, reads the short letter over and over. leave? his nest? leave two tiny hungry little day old grubs behind? they need him more than they need anything else! to defend them, to feed them, to be there for them, to groom them, to keep them warm, to keep them safe, to to... to...

...

the vessels needed him too. and he had denied them. they were not crooned over and kept in a nest of warmth and love; they were thrown away, left to rot, to die, were killed, were treated as nothing but rubbish. and now. one is reaching out towards him. the eldest of that brood in fact. but... their siblings... they also need him right now.

what to do what to do what to do?

it is then, when he's deliberating over which child to abandon that Lurien tip-toes into the room with a big fat steak on a tray*

"What's wrong?"

*the letter is handed over as the pale king takes the steak, tearing off pieces to chew up for the wyrmling and allowing the moth grub to lick up the juices and blood from the platter. what do baby moths actually eat? still... Lurien shakes his head slighly before offering a gentle scratch to the side of his face. unbidden, he purrs*

"You should go, I think. Make things right."

Mine desires and instincts keep me chained here, and besides, with what has happened I am... ...I do not wish to leave them.

"My Beloved... you know you need to do this, or else, you'll never let it go. I'll take care of them, papa needs to get to know his babies."

*the pale king sighs, a deep heavy thing, before he nuzzles into Lurien's palm. slowly he stands, flutters his wings. getting out and having some fresh air might be good, and besides, despite the fact he's been growling, hissing and snapping at every single living bug that dared get too close to his nest letting his grub's father actually get his scent all over them and his nest is good. it'll stop him from trying to bite Lurien. yeah. yeah this is... it's good...*

I shalt not delay further or else I shalt not even leave. If you need me all you need do is call, I shalt hear and return as quickly as able. The wyrmling really likes trying to escape. The caterpillar is a wriggly little one and likes to chew on my robe. Both will meep and peep to let you know they want things. I'm sorry for this...

"Yeah yeah, we'll be here when you get back don't worry~ I know you will though..."

*a nod. a flutter of wings. and through the window into the rain he leaves, out into the city gloom, down into the depths, and towards the ruins of a home he left behind...*

[blossomtherootvessel]

When you arrive, the vessel is leaning against the wall, head drooped while their hand lightly rests on a huge sickle.

They are adorned with a crown of various flowers; a white rose, a strand of sickly grass, an oversized orchid, a black flower, like the ones that grow everywhere they step and all around them, the stem of a flower, which the monarchfly soon returns to and bonds to, and even an Everbloom. Their cloak is drab, the once pale coloration stained the deep brown-grey of the abyss. The spot above their eye is chipped, but most notably, half of the Kingsoul hangs around their neck from a flower chain, attached to a cutting from Lady Root's branches.

They're here. I can sense them.

"I can too."

What do you say to them?

"I will figure that out myself."

The vessel looks up from where they were leaning, before stepping forwards from the broken door, dragging their sickle with them as they move. Their steps seem somewhat uncanny; as if they have too many limbs and not enough places to put them, though their cloak conceals any details.

"Greetings, Pale King." They say, stopping in front of you.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king tilts his head in curiousity, his eyes immediately catching the pale glow of the white fragment and his lady's branches. how... strange? she had gifted her half to Lurien and together they had reforged the charm into something new, something yet not fully realised in its entirety so... how has this Vessel gained such a thing? he'd look into the paths, into those endless twisting routes between but his vision has been fuzzy e're since he awoke from his self-inflicted solitude. he blinks, slowly. looking at them almost hurts, is almost so painfully familiar but he can't place why. has he met this child before?*

Mine child. A curious places for us to meet face to face. Why hath you called mineself here? I would assume it is not merely for a meeting, yes?

[blossomtherootvessel]

"If only that were the case." Entropy looks at the Pale King, before back to the White Palace, or where it should be.

"The place I need to go is one only you can help me reach." Entropy says. "The dream realm is formed by thoughts, memories, wishes, and fears. And yet, your memory of this is what I need. But a different version of you. Yet as a pale being..."

Entropy slowly begins weaving flowers together on the body of the Kingsmould, not much but a husk at this point. "Simply put, your presence is what I need. You may not be in the state for this dream to exist..."

Entropy places the monarch bloom atop the Kingsmould's chest. Black essence slowly begins rising from where the bloom is placed. "But one of you is. And with your foresight, all versions of you are there, in a way."

"I will let you walk away, if you wish. The dream I need to reach, I cannot reach without your help."

[the-pale-king]

Memories. Dreams. Imagined worlds. False realities for false for whom? I know these well, better than most, I have found mineself walking through one as recent as a couple months back, and once more before that too. The concept of self; how does one even begin to truly define it?

I walked through a world—an echo of what could hath been and what was for another—and I also existed within the layers of mineself, over and over I felt my existence twist and turn in on itself, a wyrm eating its own tail, an endless cycle of rotting and rectifying.

...I will help you, child. I will do what I can but, and this you may know, the echos of mineself walking other paths may not be so kind.

[blossomtherootvessel]

"Then let us go."

Entropy presses their right arm to it, cloak obscuring it slightly, but an indigo flash is seen. Essence begins rising more rapidly, forming circles, before flowers blossom across the floor.

The black essence fills your vision, and then you awaken next to Entropy, on the floor in the same spot.

But something has changed.

The palace lays in front of you, the grounds surrounding it crumbling. But it is cold, and dark. So dark. The bottom of the void, where this memory of the palace has sunk to. Spores turn into tendrils and twist past windows, cores and tentacles and horrible cysts line the walls and hang from the ceiling. Most disturbingly, husks of vessels can be seen; some slumped in corners, some splayed out on the floor, some suspended from the ceiling by black Rot.

The monarch bloom within Entropy's hands, and the glow of the half of Kingsoul, and Lady Root's cutting, though beginning to turn grey, are the only light in this place.

The monarchfly detaches from the stem and flies forwards.

"Pay the husks no mind, and do not touch the walls." Entropy says, slowly following the monarchfly as they step forwards. The Rot twitches in the direction of you two, but does not advance.

Why are we here?

"Because we have to be."

There are better memories to retrieve it from.

"This pain is what we were born from. That part of us cannot be reborn without it."

Entropy seems silent, still moving in that uncanny way, before turning to look at you. "Pale King... what do you think I am?" Their question seems genuine, almost as if they are asking themself.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king follows close behind, his eyes not daring to stray from Entropy. if he didn't know better—and he does—he'd think that this was the result of the White Lady's gardens growing out of control but... the lumps, the tendrils, the very forboding feel of it all... something here is clearly wrong, clearly off. it reminds him of the state of the crossroads when he first awoke from his own dream of imprisonment; how the globs of infection had gathered into pulsating clumps, how writhing tendrils had oozed... whatever this is, truly is, it is very similar to that. a danger

still. he considers the question asked*

You have the look of a Vessel, of one of mine children, and in fact I do believe that you are but... you are more. Different. Like a lingering shadow almost. Like regret manifest. You were the first? Perhaps you are all there ever was or what is left from what I did.

Looking right at you is... difficult, even for one such as I; things about you don't line up, like several images piled upon each other, like screaming three words at once. You are here, and yet you are not. You are there, and yet you are right by my side. I don't know the answer to that question, mine child, and I doubt there is a definitive one in truth, I just know that you asked for mine help.

...A proper answer, one not so nebulous.

You are a Vessel but you are not truly mine and yet I shalt treat you as such all the same.

[blossomtherootvessel]

Entropy remains silent for a bit, tapping their way up steps and hopping over a crumbled part of the floor, ducking a hanging tentacle.

"That is possibly the best answer I could have heard." Entropy says. "But truth... that is something else entirely, something not even I know the answer to."

Entropy stops at the bottom of one of the elevator shafts, usually capable of propelling passengers with the force of soul, before beginning to climb some of the rubble, offering their sickle to climb up with.

"But the truth of the matter is... I am no vessel anymore. What is left of that Vessel died soon after it hit the Void Sea."

Entropy pulls you up, and begins climbing upwards towards the Palace's peak, clutching thick, fleshy ropes of Rot and slowly ascending, leaning such that they do not fall into the cysts lining the walls.

"I am on a mission to give that child the life it could not have. And what happens to 'me' afterwards..."

Entropy stays silent for a minute.

"Does not matter."

Entropy continues ascending the Palace in silence now, following the glow of the Monarchfly.

[the-pale-king]

...It does matter. Any life lived, no matter its purpose or how brief it was, matters. A strange thing for mineself to say it must seem but it is true all the same.

I hath a feeling that this Void Sea is not the same one as the one below our feet. Or. Perhaps it is and they are merely connected, who could say... ah, while the help is appreciated I do possess wings, I can fly.

[blossomtherootvessel]

"Oh." Entropy continues through the palace, passing a window where huge tendrils, serpents of void twist past, before continuing through broken terraces and cracked staircases.

After some time, they speak once more. "Then I suppose I will see what happens, when the time comes." They slowly pass the nursery, where they could've been raised in another time, before heading straight for the shaft leading up to the Throne Room, past husks of Kingsmoulds twisted with Rot cysts. Then, they begin climbing again, slowly clambering up the ropes of Void-Rot.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king keeps silent and merely follows onwards, his wings ferrying him above where his king since vacant throne awaits. funny, to return here. it always seems to come back to his seat of power one way or another. whatever lays ahead now though… he can only guess*

[blossomtherootvessel]

Entropy ascends the final ledge and hauls themself over the ledge, gazing upon the throne room choked with Rot and Void. Such a contrast to the beautiful, pale gardens where they retrieved the first half of Kingsoul.

"I cannot go further, nor take the talisman myself. This is not my memory. This is why I need you." Entropy says, waving you forwards. But the one who holds the charm in front of you two...

A husk, mask cracked and leaking void, suspended from the wall by tentacles and cores growing from the long-dead body of another cycle's lost King. And at the center, where the monarchfly has landed, is half the white charm. But it's faintly leaking soul, and a large crack has formed across it.

Charms are meant to be unbreakable.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king casts a glance at Entropy before he walks forwards towards himself. or not himself. except it is. except... it is not. once again images lain upon images, thoughts tangling together into a mess, words spoken in one big jumble...*

...Does one know? Not long ago I found mineself in another version of Hallownest, much like this one, a dismal rotten thing but, well, not in the literal sense. T'was a world where we lost, all of us, where Her light spread undefeated, never ending, leaving behind a world silenced in its wake.

It is sad to think on, no? That some places can be so alive and then so empty.

*he stands before himself, before the other him suspended, entraped, strung up like some kind of puppet on a string. he reaches out towards the charm but stops, pausing, hesitating*

...I wonder what things you have seen. Have you been lonely?

*he shakes his head and plucks the charm from the corpse before him. he doesn't know who that question was posed at; himself, Entropy... or himself*

[blossomtherootvessel]

Black essence swirls around the charm, and Entropy, the moment the charm is taken from the corpse.

"I have been in many such worlds you speak of. The enormous, collapsed husk of a metal god, the fringes of reality, from the top of the sky to the sea below to the firmament at the edge. I have seen lush jungles and ice cold ruins and I have seen those very same places fall to the endless march of cosmic decay. must have seen these kingdoms twice over before I came back here."

Black essence swirls even more now, swallowing everything but Entropy and the glow of the charm.

"I would love to tell you about them sometime."

The essence blots out your vision, and the imagined reality, the fringe... fades. You awaken laying in a patch of black flowers in the ruins of the Palace Grounds, flowers having grown everywhere in your sleep. Entropy is already propping themself up with their sickle, and they slowly take the half of Kingsoul, binding it to the cutting of the White Lady's root.

"I must go. When you are ready, come find me."

Entropy wanders off deeper into the Ancient basin, a trail of the very same black flowers in their wake.

You already know where the trail will lead.

[the-pale-king]

As you lay in your nest, a monarchfly flutters over to the window, drawn to your pale light.

The monarchfly bumps into the window, bouncing back a bit, before flying forwards again. Its legs, instead of using them to land, clasp what looks like part of a Royal Retainer's cloak, rolled into a scroll and bound with black flowers.

Black flowers that look strangely like the one that grew in front of you some time ago.

The monarchfly eventually finds a way through the windowpane, fluttering down to the nest and depositing the scroll.

Opening it, a large drawing of the ruins of the Palace Grounds unfurls, marked with a drawing of flowers covering the broken entrance. And below that, written in somewhat professional yet clearly handwritten calligraphy, is a message for you.

"Pale King. I hope you are healthy when you read this.

I require your presence, and your aid. Come to the place of this drawing.

~ The Vessel First Hatched, Entropy."

@entropythevessel

*he looks over the sketch, reads the short letter over and over. leave? his nest? leave two tiny hungry little day old grubs behind? they need him more than they need anything else! to defend them, to feed them, to be there for them, to groom them, to keep them warm, to keep them safe, to to... to...

...

the vessels needed him too. and he had denied them. they were not crooned over and kept in a nest of warmth and love; they were thrown away, left to rot, to die, were killed, were treated as nothing but rubbish. and now. one is reaching out towards him. the eldest of that brood in fact. but... their siblings... they also need him right now.

what to do what to do what to do?

it is then, when he's deliberating over which child to abandon that Lurien tip-toes into the room with a big fat steak on a tray*

"What's wrong?"

*the letter is handed over as the pale king takes the steak, tearing off pieces to chew up for the wyrmling and allowing the moth grub to lick up the juices and blood from the platter. what do baby moths actually eat? still... Lurien shakes his head slighly before offering a gentle scratch to the side of his face. unbidden, he purrs*

"You should go, I think. Make things right."

Mine desires and instincts keep me chained here, and besides, with what has happened I am... ...I do not wish to leave them.

"My Beloved... you know you need to do this, or else, you'll never let it go. I'll take care of them, papa needs to get to know his babies."

*the pale king sighs, a deep heavy thing, before he nuzzles into Lurien's palm. slowly he stands, flutters his wings. getting out and having some fresh air might be good, and besides, despite the fact he's been growling, hissing and snapping at every single living bug that dared get too close to his nest letting his grub's father actually get his scent all over them and his nest is good. it'll stop him from trying to bite Lurien. yeah. yeah this is... it's good...*

I shalt not delay further or else I shalt not even leave. If you need me all you need do is call, I shalt hear and return as quickly as able. The wyrmling really likes trying to escape. The caterpillar is a wriggly little one and likes to chew on my robe. Both will meep and peep to let you know they want things. I'm sorry for this...

"Yeah yeah, we'll be here when you get back don't worry~ I know you will though..."

*a nod. a flutter of wings. and through the window into the rain he leaves, out into the city gloom, down into the depths, and towards the ruins of a home he left behind...*

[blossomtherootvessel]

When you arrive, the vessel is leaning against the wall, head drooped while their hand lightly rests on a huge sickle.

They are adorned with a crown of various flowers; a white rose, a strand of sickly grass, an oversized orchid, a black flower, like the ones that grow everywhere they step and all around them, the stem of a flower, which the monarchfly soon returns to and bonds to, and even an Everbloom. Their cloak is drab, the once pale coloration stained the deep brown-grey of the abyss. The spot above their eye is chipped, but most notably, half of the Kingsoul hangs around their neck from a flower chain, attached to a cutting from Lady Root's branches.

They're here. I can sense them.

"I can too."

What do you say to them?

"I will figure that out myself."

The vessel looks up from where they were leaning, before stepping forwards from the broken door, dragging their sickle with them as they move. Their steps seem somewhat uncanny; as if they have too many limbs and not enough places to put them, though their cloak conceals any details.

"Greetings, Pale King." They say, stopping in front of you.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king tilts his head in curiousity, his eyes immediately catching the pale glow of the white fragment and his lady's branches. how... strange? she had gifted her half to Lurien and together they had reforged the charm into something new, something yet not fully realised in its entirety so... how has this Vessel gained such a thing? he'd look into the paths, into those endless twisting routes between but his vision has been fuzzy e're since he awoke from his self-inflicted solitude. he blinks, slowly. looking at them almost hurts, is almost so painfully familiar but he can't place why. has he met this child before?*

Mine child. A curious places for us to meet face to face. Why hath you called mineself here? I would assume it is not merely for a meeting, yes?

[blossomtherootvessel]

"If only that were the case." Entropy looks at the Pale King, before back to the White Palace, or where it should be.

"The place I need to go is one only you can help me reach." Entropy says. "The dream realm is formed by thoughts, memories, wishes, and fears. And yet, your memory of this is what I need. But a different version of you. Yet as a pale being..."

Entropy slowly begins weaving flowers together on the body of the Kingsmould, not much but a husk at this point. "Simply put, your presence is what I need. You may not be in the state for this dream to exist..."

Entropy places the monarch bloom atop the Kingsmould's chest. Black essence slowly begins rising from where the bloom is placed. "But one of you is. And with your foresight, all versions of you are there, in a way."

"I will let you walk away, if you wish. The dream I need to reach, I cannot reach without your help."

[the-pale-king]

Memories. Dreams. Imagined worlds. False realities for false for whom? I know these well, better than most, I have found mineself walking through one as recent as a couple months back, and once more before that too. The concept of self; how does one even begin to truly define it?

I walked through a world—an echo of what could hath been and what was for another—and I also existed within the layers of mineself, over and over I felt my existence twist and turn in on itself, a wyrm eating its own tail, an endless cycle of rotting and rectifying.

...I will help you, child. I will do what I can but, and this you may know, the echos of mineself walking other paths may not be so kind.

[blossomtherootvessel]

"Then let us go."

Entropy presses their right arm to it, cloak obscuring it slightly, but an indigo flash is seen. Essence begins rising more rapidly, forming circles, before flowers blossom across the floor.

The black essence fills your vision, and then you awaken next to Entropy, on the floor in the same spot.

But something has changed.

The palace lays in front of you, the grounds surrounding it crumbling. But it is cold, and dark. So dark. The bottom of the void, where this memory of the palace has sunk to. Spores turn into tendrils and twist past windows, cores and tentacles and horrible cysts line the walls and hang from the ceiling. Most disturbingly, husks of vessels can be seen; some slumped in corners, some splayed out on the floor, some suspended from the ceiling by black Rot.

The monarch bloom within Entropy's hands, and the glow of the half of Kingsoul, and Lady Root's cutting, though beginning to turn grey, are the only light in this place.

The monarchfly detaches from the stem and flies forwards.

"Pay the husks no mind, and do not touch the walls." Entropy says, slowly following the monarchfly as they step forwards. The Rot twitches in the direction of you two, but does not advance.

Why are we here?

"Because we have to be."

There are better memories to retrieve it from.

"This pain is what we were born from. That part of us cannot be reborn without it."

Entropy seems silent, still moving in that uncanny way, before turning to look at you. "Pale King... what do you think I am?" Their question seems genuine, almost as if they are asking themself.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king follows close behind, his eyes not daring to stray from Entropy. if he didn't know better—and he does—he'd think that this was the result of the White Lady's gardens growing out of control but... the lumps, the tendrils, the very forboding feel of it all... something here is clearly wrong, clearly off. it reminds him of the state of the crossroads when he first awoke from his own dream of imprisonment; how the globs of infection had gathered into pulsating clumps, how writhing tendrils had oozed... whatever this is, truly is, it is very similar to that. a danger

still. he considers the question asked*

You have the look of a Vessel, of one of mine children, and in fact I do believe that you are but... you are more. Different. Like a lingering shadow almost. Like regret manifest. You were the first? Perhaps you are all there ever was or what is left from what I did.

Looking right at you is... difficult, even for one such as I; things about you don't line up, like several images piled upon each other, like screaming three words at once. You are here, and yet you are not. You are there, and yet you are right by my side. I don't know the answer to that question, mine child, and I doubt there is a definitive one in truth, I just know that you asked for mine help.

...A proper answer, one not so nebulous.

You are a Vessel but you are not truly mine and yet I shalt treat you as such all the same.

[blossomtherootvessel]

Entropy remains silent for a bit, tapping their way up steps and hopping over a crumbled part of the floor, ducking a hanging tentacle.

"That is possibly the best answer I could have heard." Entropy says. "But truth... that is something else entirely, something not even I know the answer to."

Entropy stops at the bottom of one of the elevator shafts, usually capable of propelling passengers with the force of soul, before beginning to climb some of the rubble, offering their sickle to climb up with.

"But the truth of the matter is... I am no vessel anymore. What is left of that Vessel died soon after it hit the Void Sea."

Entropy pulls you up, and begins climbing upwards towards the Palace's peak, clutching thick, fleshy ropes of Rot and slowly ascending, leaning such that they do not fall into the cysts lining the walls.

"I am on a mission to give that child the life it could not have. And what happens to 'me' afterwards..."

Entropy stays silent for a minute.

"Does not matter."

Entropy continues ascending the Palace in silence now, following the glow of the Monarchfly.

[the-pale-king]

...It does matter. Any life lived, no matter its purpose or how brief it was, matters. A strange thing for mineself to say it must seem but it is true all the same.

I hath a feeling that this Void Sea is not the same one as the one below our feet. Or. Perhaps it is and they are merely connected, who could say... ah, while the help is appreciated I do possess wings, I can fly.

[blossomtherootvessel]

"Oh." Entropy continues through the palace, passing a window where huge tendrils, serpents of void twist past, before continuing through broken terraces and cracked staircases.

After some time, they speak once more. "Then I suppose I will see what happens, when the time comes." They slowly pass the nursery, where they could've been raised in another time, before heading straight for the shaft leading up to the Throne Room, past husks of Kingsmoulds twisted with Rot cysts. Then, they begin climbing again, slowly clambering up the ropes of Void-Rot.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king keeps silent and merely follows onwards, his wings ferrying him above where his king since vacant throne awaits. funny, to return here. it always seems to come back to his seat of power one way or another. whatever lays ahead now though… he can only guess*

[blossomtherootvessel]

Entropy ascends the final ledge and hauls themself over the ledge, gazing upon the throne room choked with Rot and Void. Such a contrast to the beautiful, pale gardens where they retrieved the first half of Kingsoul.

"I cannot go further, nor take the talisman myself. This is not my memory. This is why I need you." Entropy says, waving you forwards. But the one who holds the charm in front of you two...

A husk, mask cracked and leaking void, suspended from the wall by tentacles and cores growing from the long-dead body of another cycle's lost King. And at the center, where the monarchfly has landed, is half the white charm. But it's faintly leaking soul, and a large crack has formed across it.

Charms are meant to be unbreakable.

[the-pale-king]

As you lay in your nest, a monarchfly flutters over to the window, drawn to your pale light.

The monarchfly bumps into the window, bouncing back a bit, before flying forwards again. Its legs, instead of using them to land, clasp what looks like part of a Royal Retainer's cloak, rolled into a scroll and bound with black flowers.

Black flowers that look strangely like the one that grew in front of you some time ago.

The monarchfly eventually finds a way through the windowpane, fluttering down to the nest and depositing the scroll.

Opening it, a large drawing of the ruins of the Palace Grounds unfurls, marked with a drawing of flowers covering the broken entrance. And below that, written in somewhat professional yet clearly handwritten calligraphy, is a message for you.

"Pale King. I hope you are healthy when you read this.

I require your presence, and your aid. Come to the place of this drawing.

~ The Vessel First Hatched, Entropy."

@entropythevessel

*he looks over the sketch, reads the short letter over and over. leave? his nest? leave two tiny hungry little day old grubs behind? they need him more than they need anything else! to defend them, to feed them, to be there for them, to groom them, to keep them warm, to keep them safe, to to... to...

...

the vessels needed him too. and he had denied them. they were not crooned over and kept in a nest of warmth and love; they were thrown away, left to rot, to die, were killed, were treated as nothing but rubbish. and now. one is reaching out towards him. the eldest of that brood in fact. but... their siblings... they also need him right now.

what to do what to do what to do?

it is then, when he's deliberating over which child to abandon that Lurien tip-toes into the room with a big fat steak on a tray*

"What's wrong?"

*the letter is handed over as the pale king takes the steak, tearing off pieces to chew up for the wyrmling and allowing the moth grub to lick up the juices and blood from the platter. what do baby moths actually eat? still... Lurien shakes his head slighly before offering a gentle scratch to the side of his face. unbidden, he purrs*

"You should go, I think. Make things right."

Mine desires and instincts keep me chained here, and besides, with what has happened I am... ...I do not wish to leave them.

"My Beloved... you know you need to do this, or else, you'll never let it go. I'll take care of them, papa needs to get to know his babies."

*the pale king sighs, a deep heavy thing, before he nuzzles into Lurien's palm. slowly he stands, flutters his wings. getting out and having some fresh air might be good, and besides, despite the fact he's been growling, hissing and snapping at every single living bug that dared get too close to his nest letting his grub's father actually get his scent all over them and his nest is good. it'll stop him from trying to bite Lurien. yeah. yeah this is... it's good...*

I shalt not delay further or else I shalt not even leave. If you need me all you need do is call, I shalt hear and return as quickly as able. The wyrmling really likes trying to escape. The caterpillar is a wriggly little one and likes to chew on my robe. Both will meep and peep to let you know they want things. I'm sorry for this...

"Yeah yeah, we'll be here when you get back don't worry~ I know you will though..."

*a nod. a flutter of wings. and through the window into the rain he leaves, out into the city gloom, down into the depths, and towards the ruins of a home he left behind...*

[blossomtherootvessel]

When you arrive, the vessel is leaning against the wall, head drooped while their hand lightly rests on a huge sickle.

They are adorned with a crown of various flowers; a white rose, a strand of sickly grass, an oversized orchid, a black flower, like the ones that grow everywhere they step and all around them, the stem of a flower, which the monarchfly soon returns to and bonds to, and even an Everbloom. Their cloak is drab, the once pale coloration stained the deep brown-grey of the abyss. The spot above their eye is chipped, but most notably, half of the Kingsoul hangs around their neck from a flower chain, attached to a cutting from Lady Root's branches.

They're here. I can sense them.

"I can too."

What do you say to them?

"I will figure that out myself."

The vessel looks up from where they were leaning, before stepping forwards from the broken door, dragging their sickle with them as they move. Their steps seem somewhat uncanny; as if they have too many limbs and not enough places to put them, though their cloak conceals any details.

"Greetings, Pale King." They say, stopping in front of you.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king tilts his head in curiousity, his eyes immediately catching the pale glow of the white fragment and his lady's branches. how... strange? she had gifted her half to Lurien and together they had reforged the charm into something new, something yet not fully realised in its entirety so... how has this Vessel gained such a thing? he'd look into the paths, into those endless twisting routes between but his vision has been fuzzy e're since he awoke from his self-inflicted solitude. he blinks, slowly. looking at them almost hurts, is almost so painfully familiar but he can't place why. has he met this child before?*

Mine child. A curious places for us to meet face to face. Why hath you called mineself here? I would assume it is not merely for a meeting, yes?

[blossomtherootvessel]

"If only that were the case." Entropy looks at the Pale King, before back to the White Palace, or where it should be.

"The place I need to go is one only you can help me reach." Entropy says. "The dream realm is formed by thoughts, memories, wishes, and fears. And yet, your memory of this is what I need. But a different version of you. Yet as a pale being..."

Entropy slowly begins weaving flowers together on the body of the Kingsmould, not much but a husk at this point. "Simply put, your presence is what I need. You may not be in the state for this dream to exist..."

Entropy places the monarch bloom atop the Kingsmould's chest. Black essence slowly begins rising from where the bloom is placed. "But one of you is. And with your foresight, all versions of you are there, in a way."

"I will let you walk away, if you wish. The dream I need to reach, I cannot reach without your help."

[the-pale-king]

Memories. Dreams. Imagined worlds. False realities for false for whom? I know these well, better than most, I have found mineself walking through one as recent as a couple months back, and once more before that too. The concept of self; how does one even begin to truly define it?

I walked through a world—an echo of what could hath been and what was for another—and I also existed within the layers of mineself, over and over I felt my existence twist and turn in on itself, a wyrm eating its own tail, an endless cycle of rotting and rectifying.

...I will help you, child. I will do what I can but, and this you may know, the echos of mineself walking other paths may not be so kind.

[blossomtherootvessel]

"Then let us go."

Entropy presses their right arm to it, cloak obscuring it slightly, but an indigo flash is seen. Essence begins rising more rapidly, forming circles, before flowers blossom across the floor.

The black essence fills your vision, and then you awaken next to Entropy, on the floor in the same spot.

But something has changed.

The palace lays in front of you, the grounds surrounding it crumbling. But it is cold, and dark. So dark. The bottom of the void, where this memory of the palace has sunk to. Spores turn into tendrils and twist past windows, cores and tentacles and horrible cysts line the walls and hang from the ceiling. Most disturbingly, husks of vessels can be seen; some slumped in corners, some splayed out on the floor, some suspended from the ceiling by black Rot.

The monarch bloom within Entropy's hands, and the glow of the half of Kingsoul, and Lady Root's cutting, though beginning to turn grey, are the only light in this place.

The monarchfly detaches from the stem and flies forwards.

"Pay the husks no mind, and do not touch the walls." Entropy says, slowly following the monarchfly as they step forwards. The Rot twitches in the direction of you two, but does not advance.

Why are we here?

"Because we have to be."

There are better memories to retrieve it from.

"This pain is what we were born from. That part of us cannot be reborn without it."

Entropy seems silent, still moving in that uncanny way, before turning to look at you. "Pale King... what do you think I am?" Their question seems genuine, almost as if they are asking themself.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king follows close behind, his eyes not daring to stray from Entropy. if he didn't know better—and he does—he'd think that this was the result of the White Lady's gardens growing out of control but... the lumps, the tendrils, the very forboding feel of it all... something here is clearly wrong, clearly off. it reminds him of the state of the crossroads when he first awoke from his own dream of imprisonment; how the globs of infection had gathered into pulsating clumps, how writhing tendrils had oozed... whatever this is, truly is, it is very similar to that. a danger

still. he considers the question asked*

You have the look of a Vessel, of one of mine children, and in fact I do believe that you are but... you are more. Different. Like a lingering shadow almost. Like regret manifest. You were the first? Perhaps you are all there ever was or what is left from what I did.

Looking right at you is... difficult, even for one such as I; things about you don't line up, like several images piled upon each other, like screaming three words at once. You are here, and yet you are not. You are there, and yet you are right by my side. I don't know the answer to that question, mine child, and I doubt there is a definitive one in truth, I just know that you asked for mine help.

...A proper answer, one not so nebulous.

You are a Vessel but you are not truly mine and yet I shalt treat you as such all the same.

[blossomtherootvessel]

Entropy remains silent for a bit, tapping their way up steps and hopping over a crumbled part of the floor, ducking a hanging tentacle.

"That is possibly the best answer I could have heard." Entropy says. "But truth... that is something else entirely, something not even I know the answer to."

Entropy stops at the bottom of one of the elevator shafts, usually capable of propelling passengers with the force of soul, before beginning to climb some of the rubble, offering their sickle to climb up with.

"But the truth of the matter is... I am no vessel anymore. What is left of that Vessel died soon after it hit the Void Sea."

Entropy pulls you up, and begins climbing upwards towards the Palace's peak, clutching thick, fleshy ropes of Rot and slowly ascending, leaning such that they do not fall into the cysts lining the walls.

"I am on a mission to give that child the life it could not have. And what happens to 'me' afterwards..."

Entropy stays silent for a minute.

"Does not matter."

Entropy continues ascending the Palace in silence now, following the glow of the Monarchfly.

[the-pale-king]

...It does matter. Any life lived, no matter its purpose or how brief it was, matters. A strange thing for mineself to say it must seem but it is true all the same.

I hath a feeling that this Void Sea is not the same one as the one below our feet. Or. Perhaps it is and they are merely connected, who could say... ah, while the help is appreciated I do possess wings, I can fly.

[blossomtherootvessel]

"Oh." Entropy continues through the palace, passing a window where huge tendrils, serpents of void twist past, before continuing through broken terraces and cracked staircases.

After some time, they speak once more. "Then I suppose I will see what happens, when the time comes." They slowly pass the nursery, where they could've been raised in another time, before heading straight for the shaft leading up to the Throne Room, past husks of Kingsmoulds twisted with Rot cysts. Then, they begin climbing again, slowly clambering up the ropes of Void-Rot.

[the-pale-king]

As you lay in your nest, a monarchfly flutters over to the window, drawn to your pale light.

The monarchfly bumps into the window, bouncing back a bit, before flying forwards again. Its legs, instead of using them to land, clasp what looks like part of a Royal Retainer's cloak, rolled into a scroll and bound with black flowers.

Black flowers that look strangely like the one that grew in front of you some time ago.

The monarchfly eventually finds a way through the windowpane, fluttering down to the nest and depositing the scroll.

Opening it, a large drawing of the ruins of the Palace Grounds unfurls, marked with a drawing of flowers covering the broken entrance. And below that, written in somewhat professional yet clearly handwritten calligraphy, is a message for you.

"Pale King. I hope you are healthy when you read this.

I require your presence, and your aid. Come to the place of this drawing.

~ The Vessel First Hatched, Entropy."

@entropythevessel

*he looks over the sketch, reads the short letter over and over. leave? his nest? leave two tiny hungry little day old grubs behind? they need him more than they need anything else! to defend them, to feed them, to be there for them, to groom them, to keep them warm, to keep them safe, to to... to...

...

the vessels needed him too. and he had denied them. they were not crooned over and kept in a nest of warmth and love; they were thrown away, left to rot, to die, were killed, were treated as nothing but rubbish. and now. one is reaching out towards him. the eldest of that brood in fact. but... their siblings... they also need him right now.

what to do what to do what to do?

it is then, when he's deliberating over which child to abandon that Lurien tip-toes into the room with a big fat steak on a tray*

"What's wrong?"

*the letter is handed over as the pale king takes the steak, tearing off pieces to chew up for the wyrmling and allowing the moth grub to lick up the juices and blood from the platter. what do baby moths actually eat? still... Lurien shakes his head slighly before offering a gentle scratch to the side of his face. unbidden, he purrs*

"You should go, I think. Make things right."

Mine desires and instincts keep me chained here, and besides, with what has happened I am... ...I do not wish to leave them.

"My Beloved... you know you need to do this, or else, you'll never let it go. I'll take care of them, papa needs to get to know his babies."

*the pale king sighs, a deep heavy thing, before he nuzzles into Lurien's palm. slowly he stands, flutters his wings. getting out and having some fresh air might be good, and besides, despite the fact he's been growling, hissing and snapping at every single living bug that dared get too close to his nest letting his grub's father actually get his scent all over them and his nest is good. it'll stop him from trying to bite Lurien. yeah. yeah this is... it's good...*

I shalt not delay further or else I shalt not even leave. If you need me all you need do is call, I shalt hear and return as quickly as able. The wyrmling really likes trying to escape. The caterpillar is a wriggly little one and likes to chew on my robe. Both will meep and peep to let you know they want things. I'm sorry for this...

"Yeah yeah, we'll be here when you get back don't worry~ I know you will though..."

*a nod. a flutter of wings. and through the window into the rain he leaves, out into the city gloom, down into the depths, and towards the ruins of a home he left behind...*

[blossomtherootvessel]

When you arrive, the vessel is leaning against the wall, head drooped while their hand lightly rests on a huge sickle.

They are adorned with a crown of various flowers; a white rose, a strand of sickly grass, an oversized orchid, a black flower, like the ones that grow everywhere they step and all around them, the stem of a flower, which the monarchfly soon returns to and bonds to, and even an Everbloom. Their cloak is drab, the once pale coloration stained the deep brown-grey of the abyss. The spot above their eye is chipped, but most notably, half of the Kingsoul hangs around their neck from a flower chain, attached to a cutting from Lady Root's branches.

They're here. I can sense them.

"I can too."

What do you say to them?

"I will figure that out myself."

The vessel looks up from where they were leaning, before stepping forwards from the broken door, dragging their sickle with them as they move. Their steps seem somewhat uncanny; as if they have too many limbs and not enough places to put them, though their cloak conceals any details.

"Greetings, Pale King." They say, stopping in front of you.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king tilts his head in curiousity, his eyes immediately catching the pale glow of the white fragment and his lady's branches. how... strange? she had gifted her half to Lurien and together they had reforged the charm into something new, something yet not fully realised in its entirety so... how has this Vessel gained such a thing? he'd look into the paths, into those endless twisting routes between but his vision has been fuzzy e're since he awoke from his self-inflicted solitude. he blinks, slowly. looking at them almost hurts, is almost so painfully familiar but he can't place why. has he met this child before?*

Mine child. A curious places for us to meet face to face. Why hath you called mineself here? I would assume it is not merely for a meeting, yes?

[blossomtherootvessel]

"If only that were the case." Entropy looks at the Pale King, before back to the White Palace, or where it should be.

"The place I need to go is one only you can help me reach." Entropy says. "The dream realm is formed by thoughts, memories, wishes, and fears. And yet, your memory of this is what I need. But a different version of you. Yet as a pale being..."

Entropy slowly begins weaving flowers together on the body of the Kingsmould, not much but a husk at this point. "Simply put, your presence is what I need. You may not be in the state for this dream to exist..."

Entropy places the monarch bloom atop the Kingsmould's chest. Black essence slowly begins rising from where the bloom is placed. "But one of you is. And with your foresight, all versions of you are there, in a way."

"I will let you walk away, if you wish. The dream I need to reach, I cannot reach without your help."

[the-pale-king]

Memories. Dreams. Imagined worlds. False realities for false for whom? I know these well, better than most, I have found mineself walking through one as recent as a couple months back, and once more before that too. The concept of self; how does one even begin to truly define it?

I walked through a world—an echo of what could hath been and what was for another—and I also existed within the layers of mineself, over and over I felt my existence twist and turn in on itself, a wyrm eating its own tail, an endless cycle of rotting and rectifying.

...I will help you, child. I will do what I can but, and this you may know, the echos of mineself walking other paths may not be so kind.

[blossomtherootvessel]

"Then let us go."

Entropy presses their right arm to it, cloak obscuring it slightly, but an indigo flash is seen. Essence begins rising more rapidly, forming circles, before flowers blossom across the floor.

The black essence fills your vision, and then you awaken next to Entropy, on the floor in the same spot.

But something has changed.

The palace lays in front of you, the grounds surrounding it crumbling. But it is cold, and dark. So dark. The bottom of the void, where this memory of the palace has sunk to. Spores turn into tendrils and twist past windows, cores and tentacles and horrible cysts line the walls and hang from the ceiling. Most disturbingly, husks of vessels can be seen; some slumped in corners, some splayed out on the floor, some suspended from the ceiling by black Rot.

The monarch bloom within Entropy's hands, and the glow of the half of Kingsoul, and Lady Root's cutting, though beginning to turn grey, are the only light in this place.

The monarchfly detaches from the stem and flies forwards.

"Pay the husks no mind, and do not touch the walls." Entropy says, slowly following the monarchfly as they step forwards. The Rot twitches in the direction of you two, but does not advance.

Why are we here?

"Because we have to be."

There are better memories to retrieve it from.

"This pain is what we were born from. That part of us cannot be reborn without it."

Entropy seems silent, still moving in that uncanny way, before turning to look at you. "Pale King... what do you think I am?" Their question seems genuine, almost as if they are asking themself.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king follows close behind, his eyes not daring to stray from Entropy. if he didn't know better—and he does—he'd think that this was the result of the White Lady's gardens growing out of control but... the lumps, the tendrils, the very forboding feel of it all... something here is clearly wrong, clearly off. it reminds him of the state of the crossroads when he first awoke from his own dream of imprisonment; how the globs of infection had gathered into pulsating clumps, how writhing tendrils had oozed... whatever this is, truly is, it is very similar to that. a danger

still. he considers the question asked*

You have the look of a Vessel, of one of mine children, and in fact I do believe that you are but... you are more. Different. Like a lingering shadow almost. Like regret manifest. You were the first? Perhaps you are all there ever was or what is left from what I did.

Looking right at you is... difficult, even for one such as I; things about you don't line up, like several images piled upon each other, like screaming three words at once. You are here, and yet you are not. You are there, and yet you are right by my side. I don't know the answer to that question, mine child, and I doubt there is a definitive one in truth, I just know that you asked for mine help.

...A proper answer, one not so nebulous.

You are a Vessel but you are not truly mine and yet I shalt treat you as such all the same.

[blossomtherootvessel]

Entropy remains silent for a bit, tapping their way up steps and hopping over a crumbled part of the floor, ducking a hanging tentacle.

"That is possibly the best answer I could have heard." Entropy says. "But truth... that is something else entirely, something not even I know the answer to."

Entropy stops at the bottom of one of the elevator shafts, usually capable of propelling passengers with the force of soul, before beginning to climb some of the rubble, offering their sickle to climb up with.

"But the truth of the matter is... I am no vessel anymore. What is left of that Vessel died soon after it hit the Void Sea."

Entropy pulls you up, and begins climbing upwards towards the Palace's peak, clutching thick, fleshy ropes of Rot and slowly ascending, leaning such that they do not fall into the cysts lining the walls.

"I am on a mission to give that child the life it could not have. And what happens to 'me' afterwards..."

Entropy stays silent for a minute.

"Does not matter."

Entropy continues ascending the Palace in silence now, following the glow of the Monarchfly.

[the-pale-king]

As you lay in your nest, a monarchfly flutters over to the window, drawn to your pale light.

The monarchfly bumps into the window, bouncing back a bit, before flying forwards again. Its legs, instead of using them to land, clasp what looks like part of a Royal Retainer's cloak, rolled into a scroll and bound with black flowers.

Black flowers that look strangely like the one that grew in front of you some time ago.

The monarchfly eventually finds a way through the windowpane, fluttering down to the nest and depositing the scroll.

Opening it, a large drawing of the ruins of the Palace Grounds unfurls, marked with a drawing of flowers covering the broken entrance. And below that, written in somewhat professional yet clearly handwritten calligraphy, is a message for you.

"Pale King. I hope you are healthy when you read this.

I require your presence, and your aid. Come to the place of this drawing.

~ The Vessel First Hatched, Entropy."

@entropythevessel

*he looks over the sketch, reads the short letter over and over. leave? his nest? leave two tiny hungry little day old grubs behind? they need him more than they need anything else! to defend them, to feed them, to be there for them, to groom them, to keep them warm, to keep them safe, to to... to...

...

the vessels needed him too. and he had denied them. they were not crooned over and kept in a nest of warmth and love; they were thrown away, left to rot, to die, were killed, were treated as nothing but rubbish. and now. one is reaching out towards him. the eldest of that brood in fact. but... their siblings... they also need him right now.

what to do what to do what to do?

it is then, when he's deliberating over which child to abandon that Lurien tip-toes into the room with a big fat steak on a tray*

"What's wrong?"

*the letter is handed over as the pale king takes the steak, tearing off pieces to chew up for the wyrmling and allowing the moth grub to lick up the juices and blood from the platter. what do baby moths actually eat? still... Lurien shakes his head slighly before offering a gentle scratch to the side of his face. unbidden, he purrs*

"You should go, I think. Make things right."

Mine desires and instincts keep me chained here, and besides, with what has happened I am... ...I do not wish to leave them.

"My Beloved... you know you need to do this, or else, you'll never let it go. I'll take care of them, papa needs to get to know his babies."

*the pale king sighs, a deep heavy thing, before he nuzzles into Lurien's palm. slowly he stands, flutters his wings. getting out and having some fresh air might be good, and besides, despite the fact he's been growling, hissing and snapping at every single living bug that dared get too close to his nest letting his grub's father actually get his scent all over them and his nest is good. it'll stop him from trying to bite Lurien. yeah. yeah this is... it's good...*

I shalt not delay further or else I shalt not even leave. If you need me all you need do is call, I shalt hear and return as quickly as able. The wyrmling really likes trying to escape. The caterpillar is a wriggly little one and likes to chew on my robe. Both will meep and peep to let you know they want things. I'm sorry for this...

"Yeah yeah, we'll be here when you get back don't worry~ I know you will though..."

*a nod. a flutter of wings. and through the window into the rain he leaves, out into the city gloom, down into the depths, and towards the ruins of a home he left behind...*

[blossomtherootvessel]

When you arrive, the vessel is leaning against the wall, head drooped while their hand lightly rests on a huge sickle.

They are adorned with a crown of various flowers; a white rose, a strand of sickly grass, an oversized orchid, a black flower, like the ones that grow everywhere they step and all around them, the stem of a flower, which the monarchfly soon returns to and bonds to, and even an Everbloom. Their cloak is drab, the once pale coloration stained the deep brown-grey of the abyss. The spot above their eye is chipped, but most notably, half of the Kingsoul hangs around their neck from a flower chain, attached to a cutting from Lady Root's branches.

They're here. I can sense them.

"I can too."

What do you say to them?

"I will figure that out myself."

The vessel looks up from where they were leaning, before stepping forwards from the broken door, dragging their sickle with them as they move. Their steps seem somewhat uncanny; as if they have too many limbs and not enough places to put them, though their cloak conceals any details.

"Greetings, Pale King." They say, stopping in front of you.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king tilts his head in curiousity, his eyes immediately catching the pale glow of the white fragment and his lady's branches. how... strange? she had gifted her half to Lurien and together they had reforged the charm into something new, something yet not fully realised in its entirety so... how has this Vessel gained such a thing? he'd look into the paths, into those endless twisting routes between but his vision has been fuzzy e're since he awoke from his self-inflicted solitude. he blinks, slowly. looking at them almost hurts, is almost so painfully familiar but he can't place why. has he met this child before?*

Mine child. A curious places for us to meet face to face. Why hath you called mineself here? I would assume it is not merely for a meeting, yes?

[blossomtherootvessel]

"If only that were the case." Entropy looks at the Pale King, before back to the White Palace, or where it should be.

"The place I need to go is one only you can help me reach." Entropy says. "The dream realm is formed by thoughts, memories, wishes, and fears. And yet, your memory of this is what I need. But a different version of you. Yet as a pale being..."

Entropy slowly begins weaving flowers together on the body of the Kingsmould, not much but a husk at this point. "Simply put, your presence is what I need. You may not be in the state for this dream to exist..."

Entropy places the monarch bloom atop the Kingsmould's chest. Black essence slowly begins rising from where the bloom is placed. "But one of you is. And with your foresight, all versions of you are there, in a way."

"I will let you walk away, if you wish. The dream I need to reach, I cannot reach without your help."

[the-pale-king]

Memories. Dreams. Imagined worlds. False realities for false for whom? I know these well, better than most, I have found mineself walking through one as recent as a couple months back, and once more before that too. The concept of self; how does one even begin to truly define it?

I walked through a world—an echo of what could hath been and what was for another—and I also existed within the layers of mineself, over and over I felt my existence twist and turn in on itself, a wyrm eating its own tail, an endless cycle of rotting and rectifying.

...I will help you, child. I will do what I can but, and this you may know, the echos of mineself walking other paths may not be so kind.

[blossomtherootvessel]

"Then let us go."

Entropy presses their right arm to it, cloak obscuring it slightly, but an indigo flash is seen. Essence begins rising more rapidly, forming circles, before flowers blossom across the floor.

The black essence fills your vision, and then you awaken next to Entropy, on the floor in the same spot.

But something has changed.

The palace lays in front of you, the grounds surrounding it crumbling. But it is cold, and dark. So dark. The bottom of the void, where this memory of the palace has sunk to. Spores turn into tendrils and twist past windows, cores and tentacles and horrible cysts line the walls and hang from the ceiling. Most disturbingly, husks of vessels can be seen; some slumped in corners, some splayed out on the floor, some suspended from the ceiling by black Rot.

The monarch bloom within Entropy's hands, and the glow of the half of Kingsoul, and Lady Root's cutting, though beginning to turn grey, are the only light in this place.

The monarchfly detaches from the stem and flies forwards.

"Pay the husks no mind, and do not touch the walls." Entropy says, slowly following the monarchfly as they step forwards. The Rot twitches in the direction of you two, but does not advance.

Why are we here?

"Because we have to be."

There are better memories to retrieve it from.

"This pain is what we were born from. That part of us cannot be reborn without it."

Entropy seems silent, still moving in that uncanny way, before turning to look at you. "Pale King... what do you think I am?" Their question seems genuine, almost as if they are asking themself.

[the-pale-king]

As you lay in your nest, a monarchfly flutters over to the window, drawn to your pale light.

The monarchfly bumps into the window, bouncing back a bit, before flying forwards again. Its legs, instead of using them to land, clasp what looks like part of a Royal Retainer's cloak, rolled into a scroll and bound with black flowers.

Black flowers that look strangely like the one that grew in front of you some time ago.

The monarchfly eventually finds a way through the windowpane, fluttering down to the nest and depositing the scroll.

Opening it, a large drawing of the ruins of the Palace Grounds unfurls, marked with a drawing of flowers covering the broken entrance. And below that, written in somewhat professional yet clearly handwritten calligraphy, is a message for you.

"Pale King. I hope you are healthy when you read this.

I require your presence, and your aid. Come to the place of this drawing.

~ The Vessel First Hatched, Entropy."

@entropythevessel

*he looks over the sketch, reads the short letter over and over. leave? his nest? leave two tiny hungry little day old grubs behind? they need him more than they need anything else! to defend them, to feed them, to be there for them, to groom them, to keep them warm, to keep them safe, to to... to...

...

the vessels needed him too. and he had denied them. they were not crooned over and kept in a nest of warmth and love; they were thrown away, left to rot, to die, were killed, were treated as nothing but rubbish. and now. one is reaching out towards him. the eldest of that brood in fact. but... their siblings... they also need him right now.

what to do what to do what to do?

it is then, when he's deliberating over which child to abandon that Lurien tip-toes into the room with a big fat steak on a tray*

"What's wrong?"

*the letter is handed over as the pale king takes the steak, tearing off pieces to chew up for the wyrmling and allowing the moth grub to lick up the juices and blood from the platter. what do baby moths actually eat? still... Lurien shakes his head slighly before offering a gentle scratch to the side of his face. unbidden, he purrs*

"You should go, I think. Make things right."

Mine desires and instincts keep me chained here, and besides, with what has happened I am... ...I do not wish to leave them.

"My Beloved... you know you need to do this, or else, you'll never let it go. I'll take care of them, papa needs to get to know his babies."

*the pale king sighs, a deep heavy thing, before he nuzzles into Lurien's palm. slowly he stands, flutters his wings. getting out and having some fresh air might be good, and besides, despite the fact he's been growling, hissing and snapping at every single living bug that dared get too close to his nest letting his grub's father actually get his scent all over them and his nest is good. it'll stop him from trying to bite Lurien. yeah. yeah this is... it's good...*

I shalt not delay further or else I shalt not even leave. If you need me all you need do is call, I shalt hear and return as quickly as able. The wyrmling really likes trying to escape. The caterpillar is a wriggly little one and likes to chew on my robe. Both will meep and peep to let you know they want things. I'm sorry for this...

"Yeah yeah, we'll be here when you get back don't worry~ I know you will though..."

*a nod. a flutter of wings. and through the window into the rain he leaves, out into the city gloom, down into the depths, and towards the ruins of a home he left behind...*

[blossomtherootvessel]

When you arrive, the vessel is leaning against the wall, head drooped while their hand lightly rests on a huge sickle.

They are adorned with a crown of various flowers; a white rose, a strand of sickly grass, an oversized orchid, a black flower, like the ones that grow everywhere they step and all around them, the stem of a flower, which the monarchfly soon returns to and bonds to, and even an Everbloom. Their cloak is drab, the once pale coloration stained the deep brown-grey of the abyss. The spot above their eye is chipped, but most notably, half of the Kingsoul hangs around their neck from a flower chain, attached to a cutting from Lady Root's branches.

They're here. I can sense them.

"I can too."

What do you say to them?

"I will figure that out myself."

The vessel looks up from where they were leaning, before stepping forwards from the broken door, dragging their sickle with them as they move. Their steps seem somewhat uncanny; as if they have too many limbs and not enough places to put them, though their cloak conceals any details.

"Greetings, Pale King." They say, stopping in front of you.

[the-pale-king]

*the pale king tilts his head in curiousity, his eyes immediately catching the pale glow of the white fragment and his lady's branches. how... strange? she had gifted her half to Lurien and together they had reforged the charm into something new, something yet not fully realised in its entirety so... how has this Vessel gained such a thing? he'd look into the paths, into those endless twisting routes between but his vision has been fuzzy e're since he awoke from his self-inflicted solitude. he blinks, slowly. looking at them almost hurts, is almost so painfully familiar but he can't place why. has he met this child before?*

Mine child. A curious places for us to meet face to face. Why hath you called mineself here? I would assume it is not merely for a meeting, yes?

[blossomtherootvessel]

"If only that were the case." Entropy looks at the Pale King, before back to the White Palace, or where it should be.

"The place I need to go is one only you can help me reach." Entropy says. "The dream realm is formed by thoughts, memories, wishes, and fears. And yet, your memory of this is what I need. But a different version of you. Yet as a pale being..."

Entropy slowly begins weaving flowers together on the body of the Kingsmould, not much but a husk at this point. "Simply put, your presence is what I need. You may not be in the state for this dream to exist..."

Entropy places the monarch bloom atop the Kingsmould's chest. Black essence slowly begins rising from where the bloom is placed. "But one of you is. And with your foresight, all versions of you are there, in a way."

"I will let you walk away, if you wish. The dream I need to reach, I cannot reach without your help."

[the-pale-king]

As you lay in your nest, a monarchfly flutters over to the window, drawn to your pale light.

The monarchfly bumps into the window, bouncing back a bit, before flying forwards again. Its legs, instead of using them to land, clasp what looks like part of a Royal Retainer's cloak, rolled into a scroll and bound with black flowers.

Black flowers that look strangely like the one that grew in front of you some time ago.

The monarchfly eventually finds a way through the windowpane, fluttering down to the nest and depositing the scroll.

Opening it, a large drawing of the ruins of the Palace Grounds unfurls, marked with a drawing of flowers covering the broken entrance. And below that, written in somewhat professional yet clearly handwritten calligraphy, is a message for you.

"Pale King. I hope you are healthy when you read this.

I require your presence, and your aid. Come to the place of this drawing.

~ The Vessel First Hatched, Entropy."

@entropythevessel

*he looks over the sketch, reads the short letter over and over. leave? his nest? leave two tiny hungry little day old grubs behind? they need him more than they need anything else! to defend them, to feed them, to be there for them, to groom them, to keep them warm, to keep them safe, to to... to...

...

the vessels needed him too. and he had denied them. they were not crooned over and kept in a nest of warmth and love; they were thrown away, left to rot, to die, were killed, were treated as nothing but rubbish. and now. one is reaching out towards him. the eldest of that brood in fact. but... their siblings... they also need him right now.

what to do what to do what to do?

it is then, when he's deliberating over which child to abandon that Lurien tip-toes into the room with a big fat steak on a tray*

"What's wrong?"

*the letter is handed over as the pale king takes the steak, tearing off pieces to chew up for the wyrmling and allowing the moth grub to lick up the juices and blood from the platter. what do baby moths actually eat? still... Lurien shakes his head slighly before offering a gentle scratch to the side of his face. unbidden, he purrs*

"You should go, I think. Make things right."

Mine desires and instincts keep me chained here, and besides, with what has happened I am... ...I do not wish to leave them.

"My Beloved... you know you need to do this, or else, you'll never let it go. I'll take care of them, papa needs to get to know his babies."

*the pale king sighs, a deep heavy thing, before he nuzzles into Lurien's palm. slowly he stands, flutters his wings. getting out and having some fresh air might be good, and besides, despite the fact he's been growling, hissing and snapping at every single living bug that dared get too close to his nest letting his grub's father actually get his scent all over them and his nest is good. it'll stop him from trying to bite Lurien. yeah. yeah this is... it's good...*

I shalt not delay further or else I shalt not even leave. If you need me all you need do is call, I shalt hear and return as quickly as able. The wyrmling really likes trying to escape. The caterpillar is a wriggly little one and likes to chew on my robe. Both will meep and peep to let you know they want things. I'm sorry for this...

"Yeah yeah, we'll be here when you get back don't worry~ I know you will though..."

*a nod. a flutter of wings. and through the window into the rain he leaves, out into the city gloom, down into the depths, and towards the ruins of a home he left behind...*

[blossomtherootvessel]

When you arrive, the vessel is leaning against the wall, head drooped while their hand lightly rests on a huge sickle.

They are adorned with a crown of various flowers; a white rose, a strand of sickly grass, an oversized orchid, a black flower, like the ones that grow everywhere they step and all around them, the stem of a flower, which the monarchfly soon returns to and bonds to, and even an Everbloom. Their cloak is drab, the once pale coloration stained the deep brown-grey of the abyss. The spot above their eye is chipped, but most notably, half of the Kingsoul hangs around their neck from a flower chain, attached to a cutting from Lady Root's branches.

They're here. I can sense them.

"I can too."

What do you say to them?

"I will figure that out myself."

The vessel looks up from where they were leaning, before stepping forwards from the broken door, dragging their sickle with them as they move. Their steps seem somewhat uncanny; as if they have too many limbs and not enough places to put them, though their cloak conceals any details.

"Greetings, Pale King." They say, stopping in front of you.

[blossomtherootvessel]

Note: I have D&D and have to eat dinner.

I will continue Entropy's arc at around 9:30 EST.