Please address me as such. This is a fictionkin account, but if calling me that name makes you uncomfortable then you may also call me “Q.”
He/it/🎵 pronouns please!
I am part of a system, however seeing as I’m the host I feel it is more appropriate to address this as kinning, although I suppose I would fit the category of fictive as well…?
I don’t expect to be particularly active but I’m always open to chat, so feel free to send me a message anytime. I’m perfectly fine with doubles (we’re all ourselves, there’s no wrong way to be you and no one is more you than yourself.) I love chatting and making new friends so even if our mems don’t line up, I’d be thrilled to meet anyone else from Hallownest.
When I am active I’ll likely be posting mems or the occasional drawing, but more often than not I’ll just be reblogging.
General DNI. I don’t expect pedophiles to have the decency to respect a DNI, but as a blanket statement, use your better judgement.
I’ve been wanting to make a Hollow Knight character based on my Texas Ironclad Beetle, Zephyr, and I finally got around to drawing them 👍
They/them (but they’re fine with ze/he/she pronouns too)
Zephyr is a solitary farmer who tends to crops of lichens and fungi in a secluded pocket of the Fungal Wastes. Their scythe is more of a tool than a weapon but it can be used for self defense. They aren’t picked on often though, partly because they avoid people and partly because they’re large enough to tower over most bugs.
Don’t let their size fool you; they’re not a fighter. When they feel threatened they keel over and play dead until danger passes. Their shell is tough enough to take almost any hit so this is actually an effective strategy, even if their opponent knows they’re alive.
They’re not the type to pick a fight in the first place. They’re actually very well-mannered and polite, and they’re willing to share small portions of their crops with hungry travelers. Still, they don’t consider many people their friend, and they’re content with living alone, holding their secrets close to their chest.
Their golden embellishments are actually a reference to something pretty tragic with Texas Ironclads; they’re sometimes worn as living jewelry. Gems and gold chains are glued to their shells and they’re worn on people’s shirts, chained by a pin and left to crawl with these permanent weights on their backs. This metaphor runs deeper than just their looks, but you’ll be hard pressed to convince Zephyr to talk about their past.
They’ve considered leaving Hallownest to find a better life but they’re never had the bravery to go any farther than Dirtmouth.
They’re a Texas Ironclad Beetle! Aren’t they the cutest?? I actually just recently found them and I set up a vivarium for them, and I’d like to expand it soon and maybe someday find a friend or two for them.
I love them So much. I would have a nice little tea party with them if that were practical but it’s not so I did this for them instead!
I don’t even know what to say, they’re just. So lovely <3 I adore them
The full version of my interpretation of Myla's song ("Bury my mother, pale and slight..."), based on the tune she hums. Sung by me (at 2am) (with a cold). I'm… actually pretty proud of how this turned out!
Context: When the city was condemned, were the miners still in Crystal Peak left outside? Did they wonder what happened to their families left within? Did they sing for them? For the knight and dreamers whose memorial they may once have seen? For the desperate hope for a brighter future? Even just a chance to mourn?
Additional Context: The really fun thing about rounds is how one by one the voices inevitably die off until there is only one remaining. :)
(I really didn't expect so many people to want to hear the whole thing! Many thanks to The Embraced One and Camellia Flingert on Youtube, whose recordings of Crystal Peak ambience provided the perfect background noise/pickaxes/ominous rumbling.)
[Chorus:]
None shall enter, none shall leave, the king has sealed our kin.
But we yet breathe, unite and grieve and sing for those within.
Gates will open; we take hope and mourn ‘till morning comes.
Soon the knight will bring the day – it’s this the crystal hums!
Oh, bury my mother, pale and slight,
Bury my father with his eyes shut tight,
Bury my sisters two by two,
And then when you're done, let's bury me too!
Oh, bury the knight with her broken nail,
Bury the lady, lovely and pale,
Bury the priest in his tattered gown,
Then bury the beggar with his shining crown!
[Chorus]
Oh, bury the traitor marred by pride,
Bury his daughter at her lover’s side,
Bury the sage and his sons all three,
But save by their grave a space for me!
Oh, bury the smith and his blood-soaked art,
Bury the writer with a broken heart,
Bury the fool with their shield stained red,
But ask them thrice to be sure that they are dead!
[Chorus]
[As a round]
Oh, bury the teacher in her hallowed hall,
Bury the watcher in his tower tall,
Bury the beast in her silken cave,
Then bury the one who dug their graves.
This started as a ditty to sing while chopping wood and ended with three separate ambience loops, boss scream cameos from the Radiance and the Crystal Guardian, and the realization that the official soundtrack has a perfectly good cover of someone going na-na-na to the tune of the main theme already, why not throw that into the chorus somewhere quietly while we're at it…
She has a few kinks to work out, as she's my first from-scratch pattern, but once I've perfected the pattern, she'll be available to order on my shop on Square:
Hello and Welcome to my stuffed animal and doll shop! Here I sell handmade dolls and stuffed animals that I make myself.
I do plan on making more Hollow Knight characters in the future, too!
The comedic potential of void communication being entirely telepathic is underappreciated, methinks. Just imagine Ghost and Hollow staring into each other's eyes for half an hour before Hollow suddenly picks Ghost up by the horn and throws them with no context. There's no body language cues to show if this was a request from Ghost or a response to them being a little shit. It just happens and you have to go about your day in Dirtmouth with the uneasy knowledge that you'll never be able to fully understand what's going on behind those blank masks
