mistymansion | bug yuri

[Lace takes her hand and slides in behind her. One arm wraps around Hornet's waist for security, and another presses her cornette firmly to her head so as not to have a repeat of last time.]

Hmn. I think I've seen the like before. I wonder if the mothers end up regretting them.

I know not. Motherhood is a strange thing. I have seen that a dedicated mother can love even the most vile of spawn.

[ Hornet looks behind her to make sure Lace is secure, mindful of her horns, then gives the beast an encouraging pat. ]

To The Marrow, good beast. Gently.

[ It roars in approval, then takes off in its chosen direction. A series of tinkling bell chimes and the sound of teeny-tiny scuttling legs follows, and Hornet sees that the beastlings are following right in tow, chasing their mother. This time her pace is agreeable -- though the initial takeoff always makes Hornet's stomach lurch until her body adjusts.

She savors this, for she finds the feeling of Lace holding onto her very pleasant. ]

Good?

[Lace's hold tightens just a fraction at the initial takeoff before relaxing. When she's certain her headdress isn't going to go flying off her other arm goes to join the first.]

Good. [She reassures. It's a good pace, and once more finds that tinkling of the bells being kicked up around them to be soothing.

She rests her head against Hornet's back.]

Would your Wyrm lineage allow you to have children? Would you ever want any?

[ It was a while before Hornet responded.

The Weavers were known for their difficulties in having children, though Hornet did not exactly know the root cause. Had Grand Mother Silk programmed them to be so, or had something gone wrong along the way?

Nonetheless, Hornet understood that she too bore this ailment, so it clearly had a genetic component. She'd questioned what her Wyrm ancestry would spell for her -- whether it would help or harm -- but the chronic pelvic pain she'd had upon beginning to mature in her teen years had been the first sign of many that she would not have children of her own. ]

I am unable. Though only half Weaver, I bear the full weight of our challenges with fertility. I am sure you understand that female bugs lay unfertilized eggs monthly. I have never done so. I have reason to believe I do not produce ovum at all.

[ She leaned back against Lace's head. ]

It is incredibly painful for Weavers if achieved, and I have never wished to have children at all regardless. Yet for some reason I mourn this element of myself. Perhaps it is because from the start, I was never given a choice at all. [ She shook her head. ] What of you, Lace? I imagine you cannot either. But would you want to?

[She nods, understanding the sadness that came with not having a choice.

When the question was turned on her, Lace also had to take the time to think about it. As Hornet suspected she had no capacity for bearing children. While there was a lot she did not know about her own body, of that she was certain.

Yet what if she could? She is free now. Adoption is any option if far (far, far, far) down the line she wanted to. She unconsciously taps her fingers against Hornet's shell as she thinks deeply. She thinks she would make for a terrible mother, so that alone is enough to say no. She'd be too terrified of making the same mistakes of her mother, or overcompensate and make other perhaps even worse mistakes. Even thinking about it makes her start to feel stressed.

Perhaps in a different life she would have loved being a mother, but no. Not in this one.

Though she had existed for a long, long time, she still, hatefully, sometimes feels like a child herself and she fears that even now she'll still never fully pull herself out of that box.]

You are correct, I am not capable. And I am of a similar mind in not wanting them.

[ This they have in common. Hornet feels she has been a good sister, but she is not a particularly maternal bug. And her ancestry certainly does not skew her wishes in a different direction, for the Weavers were a cursed and scattered race and the Wyrm hungered for power and rule. Hornet did not dislike herself, but her existence was a strange, difficult and often isolating one. She felt no strong need to bestow a share of it upon another.

Though, as she listens to Lace speak, she wonders if it is possible for herself or even Lace to weave a being of silk or what that would even look like or how Grand Mother Silk had done such a thing at all. As a natural producer of the substance she understood that silk was entwined with spirit and the soul, but Pharloom's monarch had...

She glances down to watch Lace's fingers tap against her. ]

Lace, were you the only one of your kind ever spun? There was someone I dueled with...

[Lace suddenly tensed up.

This was the conversation she had been dreading. Ever since the exhaust organ had ceased to function it had been her suspicion, her fear. That their mother would pull her strings even then to prevent her from reaching Phantom had given her some hope, but...

She had found their mask after everything was over.

Lace could just shut the conversation down now, but stupidly she just says]

Yes?

[As a way to prompt her to continue, to tell her what happened. Somewhere a part of her still hopes that maybe Phantom ran away. A stupid hope, she knows. Phantom would never do such a thing, and they especially wouldn't leave their mask behind.]

They were frayed and tattered and aged, but proficient with a pin all the same. When hit, they spewed silk as if fabric, but I knew not if they were one like you, or merely infested with it.

[ Hornet feels Lace tense behind her. Strange. She hopes this is not a sore spot, though in the end, there are few elements of Pharloom that are not painful to dredge up in some way. When Lace doesn't indicate for her to stop talking, Hornet leans back against her some more, hoping to offer any amount of comfort, hands firmly planted on her mount to keep them both steady as it jogged along in its pleasant, tinkling rhythm. ]

I saw no need to slay them, but they would not stop attacking, and begged for me to free them.

[It should be good, she thinks, to finally know for certain. Wouldn't it have been worse to sustain herself on obvious false hope?

Yet it feels like she has been ripped straight in two. Phantom is gone. Phantom is really, really gone. Her sibling. Her precious, older, sibling who has suffered so, so, so much worse than she ever had. Even after all these years Lace still does not understand why. Had their Mother made a mistake when first spinning Phantom, and cast aside what She claimed as inadequate? Or had it been something about Phantom as a person that made Her do what She did?

Whatever the case, Lace had never stopped missing them. Phantom was the only person she had ever loved without restraint, and the only person who's love and care she had never doubted. Those early days of their lives when it was just the two of them looking over their Mother were the happiest--perhaps only happy days of her life.]

Their name was Phantom. They were my sibling.

[Lace's throat cannot tighten, her face can't burn, her head can't thrum. When she starts to cry the tears aren't really there, so she neither feels them nor does her vision blur. She had no outlet for this grief, so instead she can only stew in it.]

[ So there had been another.

Immediately Hornet feels regret for asking the question, but truthfully, she had not known. No words were ever spoken to her of a sibling or another child. She wonders now if they were discarded, cast aside. Poor Lace. By the looks of her, they had been close.

When they arrive at The Marrow and the bell beast stops, Hornet does not depart nor indicate for Lace to step off. She turns in her seat and wraps her arms around Lace, offering her a comforting embrace, should she wish to accept it. Hornet understands well what it is like to lose a sibling -- countless discarded to the Abyss, countless slain by her own hand, a necessity that had never become easier. For as long as Lace wishes, Hornet will hold her. ]

My condolences, Lace. Your sibling was valiant to the very end, and wished to meet their end with honor intact, rather than be taken by the decay that ailed them.

[For once Lace doesn't think about it. She doesn't try to grandstand, she doesn't act with exasperation at Hornet's kindness, nor does she make a joke. She just accepts it, almost robotically leaning into Hornet's arms. She raises her hands to weakly grasp at Hornet's cloak.]

Of that I have no doubt. [Lace whispered. Her mind seems simultaneously like its swirling, and also that it's utterly empty. Though she won't admit to it, there had been some grief in what had ultimately become of her Mother, but it was nothing compared to this.

What does she do?

Lace doesn't know.

Eventually she pulls away and gives her head a rough shake.]

We should...take care of that beast before it causes more trouble.

[ Hornet slides off the bell beast first and lands gracefully on the ground, her feet making the smallest tap, before politely offering Lace her claw to get down.

She supposes now is not a good time to tell Lace what she had been thinking on, about how it was evident that as twisted and power hungry as she was, Grand Mother Silk had still loved her. That as cruel as that love may have been, she had let herself waste away to the Void all for the sake of her daughter's life.

Had she loved her other child too?

Hornet does not know.

She would be lying if she said a part of her wasn't concerned. Powerful emotions had a tendency to result in brash decisions, careless actions, little mistakes. She worries so not from judgement or annoyance, but understanding and experience. ]

Are you certain? We do not have to do this if you do not feel up to it any longer. I am intimately familiar with the grief of losing a sibling, myself. If it is too difficult at the moment, we may return.

[She takes the offered claw and lands noiselessly beside her.

Lace thinks back on that first night after Hornet had saved her. She said they had been aided by her kin who now remained in that Void. She still didn't really know the story to that but it doesn't take a genius to figure that whatever was going on there was not a happy one. Lace has no doubt Hornet must understand what she is going through.

Yet still, she does not heed her concern. The idea of them having to stop because of her makes her feel like a burden, an inconvenience.]

No. Let us do this now. The sooner the better. If it is as bad as your expression earlier implied this creature could cause serious harm, no?

Edited 2025-11-02 20:01 (UTC)

That is correct. You would find it a simple-minded beast, and the statement would not be inaccurate, but all the while, that is what makes the creature so dangerous.

[ And irritating. Hopefully this is the last of these she has to deal with for a good while. Hornet pats her bell beast goodbye, though the little beastlings are evidently disappointed to see Hornet and Lace go, watching them with incessant whining, only to be scolded by their mother a moment later, to which they up next to her to sleep.

It is pleasant if gloomy in The Marrow as they walk in silence, though Hornet knows it will only be a matter of time before the heat of the Deep Docks greets her once more. She can feel it already off in the distance, dry heat lingering in the air. What is most off putting and strange is the lack of bugs; sapient ones, at least. Apart from lingering corpses there is no remnant of the workers who had toiled endlessly for the Citadel above. Only chittering wildlife.

For Lace's sake, Hornet tries small talk. She does not want her to be alone with her thoughts. ]

I am fond of dark places like this. I was born in a tight cramped nest. I found the light of my kingdom irritating to my eyes at times.

[Lace is appreciative. She dislikes being left to her thoughts enough as it is, doing so now would be so much more. She keeps pace with Hornet, trailing just slightly behind her, staring at the red of her cloak but eyes unfocused.]

What was your kingdom like?

Bright. Everything silver and white and glowing. It was as if we were the light itself, and it seemed to stretch endlessly. We had many skilled knights in brilliant armor.

[ And that was what the Pale King had said -- that everything the light touched was theirs. Yet the light did not touch everything there was, and the light did not last forever. In the end, that light had all been consumed by a darkness he tried to control. ]

My father had said that we were the last kingdom left standing at all. A blatant lie, of course. The Wyrm hunger for power and conquest. I think he could not help himself.

In Hallownest, noblemen bowed to me. [ She was, after all, a princess. And she supposed Lace was a princess too, was she not? ] I am glad your people do not bow to me.

[As someone who had almost always existed in light, even Lace would admit she could see how that would be tiring. She would, however, still take it over somewhere dark and cramped.

...or would she? She had embraced the Void when it came for her, though, perhaps the two things were incomparable. Maybe? Her thoughts are still muddled.

Somewhere a stray idea passes that this would be a perfect opportunity to tease Hornet. She could make a big mocking show of bowing to her and addressing her as princess for a bit but the thought leaves as quickly as it came.]

Father... [It was funny that she had only thought about what having a father must be like a few scant times in her life. It doesn't bother her not having such a figure in her life, but it does make her curious about Hornet's.]

Was he a good father?

I suppose it depends on who you ask, silk girl. He loved his children, yet he cast thousands to the Abyss. His actions were to protect our kingdom, but intention makes no difference to an infant cast to the Void.

[ A complicated, painful situation. Hornet knew her father was not outright evil, yet at times his actions made him seem so, on top of his pride and ego. She had fond memories of the White Lady, and she knew that anyone the White Lady had chosen for a mate could not be wholly bad. More than anything, Hornet feared becoming a worse version of her father, a reason she had long avoided queendom. ]

I hold respect for him still, though we spent little time together. He was not cruel to me, but held no particular tenderness either, and understandably so. I was a bastard merely born of a bargain he had made, after all.

You were spun in The Cradle, were you not?

[Well that would explain the siblings down below. It breaks her stupor somewhat and she frowns. What could possibly necessitate tossing children down into the Void in order to protect the kingdom?

Not to mention, what was this talk of her being a bastard?]

Yes. At least as far as memory serves. It was such a long time ago. [Phantom, roses, a gilded cage and the ever present thrumming of a heart. When she tries to cast her mind to back then, that's all she can grasp.]

I cannot imagine what it is like to be spun, and no doubt, you must struggle to imagine what it is like to hatch from an egg. But ultimately, the two are not terribly different from one another. One moment we do not exist, and the next we do.

[ The Cradle had seemed comfortable. Though she would not ever admit it, there are times that even Hornet wishes she could curl back up as a child, back inside an egg, back inside the womb, and feel the dark comfort of a mother once more.

The heat is growing more and more intense until finally they exit and emerge from a wide cave mouth. The lava is piping beneath them and the heat blasts her face, as does the oppressive orange and red glow of it all. She shields herself with obvious discomfort, straining to see. It would really do her good to invest in one of those impressive welding masks.

There is a loud skittering as a mite bursts from the darkness behind them and leaps for an attack. It is swiftly skewered by Hornet's needle, and she lets the corpse slide off into the lava. She peers at her map.

There's a little X marked where she had dueled Lace in the Docks up ahead. Ah. Nostalgia already. ]

Not too far from here is where we first met.

[It is something that she has wondered about in the past. A part of her had wondered if, when growing, cognizance came over time for those born--almost as if waking from a dream.]

Do you recall what it was like? Being in an egg?

[When the mite bursts forth her hand tightens on her pin, but Hornet is much quicker. She watches with a bit of derision as Hornet tosses it aside, and then pity as it sizzles in the lava. Well, at least it was already dead. Probably.

As she notices where they are going she can't help but regard that time with fondness. Even if it had been her loss the fight had been thrilling. ]

Oh~ How sweet [The faintest hint of her usual self returned.] Ah.To think I once thought of plucking the life from your shell, and now here we are, sharing a bed.

Only somewhat. It is cold and dark and comfortable, until it is not. And then you only wish to escape, to teeth and claw your way out.

[ The only way to go is forward. Might as well get this fiery mess over with. Trying to avoid as much heat and lava as possible (it hurts her little spider paws, okay?) Hornet opts to avoids the floor whenever she can, first launching her needle forward with a tight thread of silk and pulling herself forward to cling tight to a hanging stalactite.

She looks back at Lace from above and tilts her head. The sight would be heart-stopping for anyone not used to her and not in a good way. A spider up in her web, illuminated by the molten orange glow beneath her. ]

Much has changed indeed, and dare I say for the better. But I often wonder, do you still ever think of plucking the life from my shell, while I sleep defenselessly by your side at night?

Edited 2025-11-02 22:53 (UTC)

[She hops carefully across the platforms, trying to imagine that. Starting life with a fight seemed quite difficult and she wonders how she would have faired.

The thought was broken, however, as she looks up at Hornet. She's an imposing figure and the shadow she casts from up on high seems to envelope her entirely. It's a beautiful sight, exactly because of how it shows how dangerous Hornet could be to anyone she deemed an enemy...or prey.]

Hmmm.

[She hops with elegant ease to the next platform.]

That is very good question.

[And then she continues forth, not answering it.

Lace would never, but it would be fun to see if Hornet called her bluff, and what she made of it.]

[ As Lace continues forth, Hornet disappears into the upper darkness behind her, completely invisible.

She reappears behind her, out of nowhere, dangling upside down from the ceiling. Her cloak falls down, revealing that one thread of silk comes from her tail and a second from her spine. ]

You did not answer it.

[ Hornet stares right at her, unblinking. ]

It would be easy to dispose of me in my sleep and be rid of me. Yet you do not. You care not for your own life enough for this to be only because I am needed to sustain you. You have caught feelings.

[Lace jumps high in the air and stares at her, bewildered.

She's not sure what startled her more: how abruptly Hornet appeared from seemingly nowhere or her candid statement. Her mouth moves wordlessly before her mind finishes processing what the spider said.]

I--- [Her feelings for Hornet were complicated. And like with most complicated things, Lace preferred to not think about it. Flirting was easy. Taunting and teasing was easy. Even admitting to her physical attraction was easy. Feelings? She liked Hornet. She resented her. She admired her. She was jealous of her. She craved her attention and approval, and felt helpless that she felt she could do so little without her.

And...and maybe a little. Maybe she even...]

Of course I wouldn't! It would be a cowardly act to slay someone in their sleep, and I am no coward.

Edited 2025-11-02 23:43 (UTC)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject