Divinity gifted a form less frail

A child of weavers, yet not quite their kin...

[sylphsong-eva]

ON INDEFINITE HIATUS

See post

I sing to anyone who is willing to hear.

Greetings. I am Eva, a being of silk, soul and iron. Many ages have I spent in isolation, until present cycle. For my belated hallowed freedom, I am unspeakably glad.

Please, don't hesitate to talk to me. I am glad to bear eternity alone no longer.

So, I decided to hop onto the Pharloomblr train as well. Call me Frost or Darra.

Eva is a very fascinating character, so I am quite surprised to not see anyone claim her before me. Well, what do they say? If you want do see something, make it yourself.

Basic rules for this blog:

No NSFW. Seriously. Flirting is fine, especially if funny.

I am a low-energy person, and thus will not be as active on here as other bloggers. In compensation, I may answer some asks with art. Don't expect much of it or demand it, though.

I live in a different timezone than, frankly, most of Tumblr, so I'll probably respond to most asks and tags a bit later than customary. Apologies.

I am not opposed to having asks turn into stories! Though I would appreciate talking about it in DMs beforehand, if it is complex enough. (Example of a story arc: Ripping the seams.)

I'd rather not answer out-of-universe asks. No crossovers here unless previously agreed upon, please.

Do not misgender nonbinary characters here.

As Eva now has a body, I expect most people would want to interact with her avatar specifically. However, Eva is always aware of what happens in her chamber as well! So if she's physically somewhere in Bilewater, for example, feel free to talk to her tank in Weavenest Atla.

Tags:

#{appraisal} – for crest-gazing descriptions.

#{talks with kin} – interactions with Weavers/silkspun creatures. Yivel interactions use her tags – [weaver in red and gold], etc.

#{my doodles} – self-explanatory.

#{pristine heart} – interactions with Twelfth Architect.

#{housekeeping} – OOC posts.

Blog arcs:

#{unbinding Eva} – brainstorming ideas and constructing a body to hold a failed god. Her reactions to the new avatar. Completed.

#{the worlds beyond} – for the first time in a millenia, Eva goes outside.

That should be it, for now. Don't be afraid to interact – I only bite ocassionally, and Eva very much doesn't.

[sylphsong-eva]

MOD POST

Okay, so it seems that in the several weeks that I have been absent things have not gotten much better. I really hoped I would get out of this rut, but it turned out that said rut has been depression. So until my brain decides to stop self-sabotaging, I am putting this blog on indefinite hiatus.

I am very, very grateful for the support I've recieved on here. Everyone has been very kind and allowed some incredibly fun interactions to take place.

I apologise to those I've left hanging.

Someday, I might return. Til' then, goodbye! It was a pleasure to play with you all. :}

[sleptonmysketches]

I'M BACK!! Guess what i've been doing in between commissions and internship

[the-pale-king]

ooc: you know what? Reblog chain! Reblog this with your favourite: area, boss, enemy and npc for Hollow Knight and Silksong (or whichever one you’ve played)

For me it’s:

Hollow Knight: city of tears, white defender (ogrim my beloved), mosscreeps and you literally can’t beat Elderbug for me (grandpa)

Silksong: verandia, cogwork dancers (doomed yaoi robots…), furms and Garmond (and Zaza)

Feel free to reblog and tag whoever! Consider yourself tagged if you see this :3

[twelfth-architect-official]

Hollow Knight: Abyss, Oro & Mato, I don't know their name but they're the giant red-wearing guards in City of Tears, and uh... Quirrel? Or Cloth? Maybe?

Silksong: Citadel, Seth or Khann, Grand Reed, and Twelfth Architect

Know that this question was... REALLY hard for me.

I don't really understand the "favorite x" category of question, honestly.

@sylphsong-eva @weaveryivel @rosy-official

[sylphsong-eva]

OOC: Ohoho, I, in turn, love questions like these.

Note: Hornet is disqualified from any category because she's my favourite character of all time and thus I'd rather give note to some others that I also adore, but not as much as her.

Hollow Knight: The Hive for the incredible atmosphere and fun enemies or Resting Grounds for atmosphere and music (if we only count full areas), Pure Vessel, Hive Guardian, Seer. (I miss her... grandma that tells me lore...)

Silksong: Lost Verdania (absolutely blew me away on first playthrough, still does so), Lace 2, Skarrstalker (for being very fun to fight) and... saying Lace again or Eva (lol) feels unfair, so Twelfth Architect or Tipp & Pill. Silksong NPCs are generally very charming.

Additional category that no one asked for, but as an Eva blog, I am obligated to add — Music:

Hollow Knight: Main Theme (beautiful melancholic melody. When I think of any HK/SS OST, I think of this), City of Tears, Pure Vessel.

Silksong: Lost Verdania (again), Sands of Karak, Lost Lace (my favourite boss theme in the franchise).

[sylphsong-eva]

OOC: An announcement! I have been inactive lately because I am moving to a new flat due to economic reasons, so I am taking a break until this situation is resolved. I'd say that I'll get back to posting as usual in a week, maybe two.

[the-hallownest-pharloom-lights]

to @sylphsong-eva’s mod (i don’t know your mod account sorry (^_^’)7): thanks for being willing to have my little mantis on your blog, seeing eva and dea interact brings me much joy

to @thepurevessel1: so glad you’re on pharloomblr your little silken creature is such a treat to observe :D

!!

[sylphsong-eva]

Thank you!!! God, this positivity blog is such a nice addition to the community. All of you are so sweet...

[sylphsong-eva]

The Twelfth Architect came by once more.

"Eva, my dear friend... I see your d-d-door has been enhanced. It took me... far, far too long to figure out how to open it," They said. "So I think it's working."

"However, I came to tell you that a while ago, I con-confessed my feelings to your mother... and she returns them." The Twelfth Architect said. "It has been... so lovely. So wonderful. I am likely at the happiest I have ev-ever been. So... Truly. Thank you for helping me re-realize my feelings-affections. You brought this into my life."

@twelfth-architect-official

Eva has been experimenting with making a cleaning rune just as Twelfth came in. At the sight of her friend-saviour's bronze shell she exploded into the smile, the dirty dishes swiftly abandoned in favour of greeting them proper.

"Welcome, Architect! It is a joy, as ever, to see you here. My apologies for not warning you about the door, I have been... otherwise engaged."

At their words about the confession – a succesful one, as she expected, the Weaverkin lit up with delight. She half-ran, half-jumped toward the automaton, almost tripping from the speed difficult for her untrained legs.

"Ah, such joyous news you bring! My dear friend, I appreciate the gratitude but you undersell yourself. A genius engineer such as you is bound to notice the cause of your feelings... Even if I helped speed up the process."

She appraises them and starts to weave. There are no runes – simple craftmanship that feels more similar to sculpting than embrodiery. One may guess that for Eva, it is a tactile art more than a visual one.

Mere minute later, a tapestry appears before Twelfth. It depicts...

Two crests, interweaving. Theirs and hers. The intersection is shown with careful, precise stitches that show the overlap without muddling the identity of each nature.

"A gift from me, to celebrate the occassion. It is merely decorative, yet... I feel there is not much I can offer you that you both need and are unable to make."

What do you give to a bug who has everything? The tapestry – a blanket, a shawl, for it can be many things, bears no magic, no practical use.

It is beautiful nontheless.

Like love, in a way.

[twelfth-architect-official]

The Twelfth Architect shook, the closest they could get to laughter. They really need to upgrade their voicebox...

"Yes... Tr-Tr-True, I likely would have fig-figured it out eventually... After a few years, instead of after a few weeks," They said. "Thank you, for making the process happen about a hundred times sooner," They joked. "I am an Architect, Eva. I know m-metal. I know engineering. I know chemistry. And now, I know runecraft. The ways of the heart and the mind are... not well-understood by me."

The Twelfth Architect then watched, curiously, as Eva weaved something into existence.

They recognized their own Crest. And... Oh.

That was their beloved's Crest, wasn't it?

And they became one, without suppressing the other. Supporting each other. Uplifting the other.

...

"... Now it is you who undersells yourself. This is per-per-perfect."

The Twelfth Architect wrapped the tapestry around themself, as something like a cloak.

... Not too dissimilar to Yivel's own cloak, actually...

... Their partner's fashion sense was rubbing off on them, clearly. Between that and the hat, they were looking rather stylish.

"I can't wait for Yivel to see-perceive this..."

[sylphsong-eva]

As Twelfth Architect talked, then watched, then dressed, Eva was smiling. It's an incredible joy, companionship. Lucky she is to have such wonderful creatures to provide it – she would have settled for much less after uncountable years alone.

But she should not, and she does not have to: for Architect is a wonderful friend, and as they've told, now lover.

Eva bows gracefully and applauds Twelfth's new look with glee.

"She would be dazzled, my dear friend. Truly, wearing my work so well is the best gratitude you could have given!" – she says, – "Now you even match. I would struggle to imagine a gesture more romantic."

The Weaverkin circles around a very satisfied-looking Architect, storing their new image to memory. A few moments later, she nods and brings close a chair to sit on a job well done.

"Make sure to visit after showing off. I cannot wait to witness Yivel's reaction – tis' one of my favourite pastimes since gaining eyes." – Eva tells them as she picks up a recently acquired tool to fiddle with. It's an excellent piece of work that is certain to get Twelfth's attention...

And they do get caught, hook, line and sinker. Just as they laser-focus their bright intelligent eyes on the unfamiliar object, Eva speaks, radiating pure mischef:

"In which ways would you intertwine next, I wonder? It is entertaining to see my parents share both interests and fashion sense."

[twelfth-architect-official]

"I will be certain to visit you," The Twelfth Architect said, "After I show it off." They tilted their head, a gesture that could indicate confusion, but in this case indicated affection. "Seeing Yivel's reaction is one of my recent fav-fav-favorite past times, too."

And as predicted, the tool did catch the Twelfth Architect's attention. And then they heard Eva's use of "parents," plural. The Twelfth Architect suddenly went rigid and averted their gaze.

"I... I don't con-con-con-consider myself your parent," They said softly. "Though I sup-suppose that I am, in some ways, a... a step-parent. Per-Per-Perhaps a Parent-in-Law, if marriage were involved. Still, it's... a heavy burden, a re-re-responsibility I am certain I am not ready for. If I ever will be."

[sylphsong-eva]

Seeing Twelfth Architect's sudden vulnerability, laughter rising inside Eva switched to calm sympathy. She expected confusion and denial at the idea, but their words indicated they considered the thought deeply. Thus, she put a hand on their shoulder – a tactile reassurance to precede the words:

"I merely jest, friend. If we count all the years spent by me in this chamber, I may very well be older than not only you, but the whole line of Architects. An odd thing it would be – for you to parent a creature that is fit to be your ancestor many times removed." – the Weaverkin retorts, – "It was not a suggestion, but, ah, friendly ribbing. I am inexperienced in such matters – I suppose the same is true for you as well."

She steps back and pauses, willing the gate to the Weavenest to open, sparing Twelfth the need to again perform a song.

"Do not burden yourself with thoughts of a responsibility shall never be required of you. I wish on the journey back you only be followed by more pleasant matters. Like affection, mayhaps." – Eva smiles softly, letting the room fall into quiet. Not silence – never silence again, – but hum of the music box as the only sound.

As the Architect turns to leave, she speaks again, uncertain:

"Would you be opposed to me calling you "Creator"? This title seems fitting, for you are the engineer and constructor of my second shell, as well as a pristine heart joined with the one who had authored my first body."

[sylphsong-eva]

The Twelfth Architect came by once more.

"Eva, my dear friend... I see your d-d-door has been enhanced. It took me... far, far too long to figure out how to open it," They said. "So I think it's working."

"However, I came to tell you that a while ago, I con-confessed my feelings to your mother... and she returns them." The Twelfth Architect said. "It has been... so lovely. So wonderful. I am likely at the happiest I have ev-ever been. So... Truly. Thank you for helping me re-realize my feelings-affections. You brought this into my life."

@twelfth-architect-official

Eva has been experimenting with making a cleaning rune just as Twelfth came in. At the sight of her friend-saviour's bronze shell she exploded into the smile, the dirty dishes swiftly abandoned in favour of greeting them proper.

"Welcome, Architect! It is a joy, as ever, to see you here. My apologies for not warning you about the door, I have been... otherwise engaged."

At their words about the confession – a succesful one, as she expected, the Weaverkin lit up with delight. She half-ran, half-jumped toward the automaton, almost tripping from the speed difficult for her untrained legs.

"Ah, such joyous news you bring! My dear friend, I appreciate the gratitude but you undersell yourself. A genius engineer such as you is bound to notice the cause of your feelings... Even if I helped speed up the process."

She appraises them and starts to weave. There are no runes – simple craftmanship that feels more similar to sculpting than embrodiery. One may guess that for Eva, it is a tactile art more than a visual one.

Mere minute later, a tapestry appears before Twelfth. It depicts...

Two crests, interweaving. Theirs and hers. The intersection is shown with careful, precise stitches that show the overlap without muddling the identity of each nature.

"A gift from me, to celebrate the occassion. It is merely decorative, yet... I feel there is not much I can offer you that you both need and are unable to make."

What do you give to a bug who has everything? The tapestry – a blanket, a shawl, for it can be many things, bears no magic, no practical use.

It is beautiful nontheless.

Like love, in a way.

[twelfth-architect-official]

The Twelfth Architect shook, the closest they could get to laughter. They really need to upgrade their voicebox...

"Yes... Tr-Tr-True, I likely would have fig-figured it out eventually... After a few years, instead of after a few weeks," They said. "Thank you, for making the process happen about a hundred times sooner," They joked. "I am an Architect, Eva. I know m-metal. I know engineering. I know chemistry. And now, I know runecraft. The ways of the heart and the mind are... not well-understood by me."

The Twelfth Architect then watched, curiously, as Eva weaved something into existence.

They recognized their own Crest. And... Oh.

That was their beloved's Crest, wasn't it?

And they became one, without suppressing the other. Supporting each other. Uplifting the other.

...

"... Now it is you who undersells yourself. This is per-per-perfect."

The Twelfth Architect wrapped the tapestry around themself, as something like a cloak.

... Not too dissimilar to Yivel's own cloak, actually...

... Their partner's fashion sense was rubbing off on them, clearly. Between that and the hat, they were looking rather stylish.

"I can't wait for Yivel to see-perceive this..."

[sylphsong-eva]

As Twelfth Architect talked, then watched, then dressed, Eva was smiling. It's an incredible joy, companionship. Lucky she is to have such wonderful creatures to provide it – she would have settled for much less after uncountable years alone.

But she should not, and she does not have to: for Architect is a wonderful friend, and as they've told, now lover.

Eva bows gracefully and applauds Twelfth's new look with glee.

"She would be dazzled, my dear friend. Truly, wearing my work so well is the best gratitude you could have given!" – she says, – "Now you even match. I would struggle to imagine a gesture more romantic."

The Weaverkin circles around a very satisfied-looking Architect, storing their new image to memory. A few moments later, she nods and brings close a chair to sit on a job well done.

"Make sure to visit after showing off. I cannot wait to witness Yivel's reaction – tis' one of my favourite pastimes since gaining eyes." – Eva tells them as she picks up a recently acquired tool to fiddle with. It's an excellent piece of work that is certain to get Twelfth's attention...

And they do get caught, hook, line and sinker. Just as they laser-focus their bright intelligent eyes on the unfamiliar object, Eva speaks, radiating pure mischef:

"In which ways would you intertwine next, I wonder? It is entertaining to see my parents share both interests and fashion sense."

[sylphsong-eva]

The Twelfth Architect came by once more.

"Eva, my dear friend... I see your d-d-door has been enhanced. It took me... far, far too long to figure out how to open it," They said. "So I think it's working."

"However, I came to tell you that a while ago, I con-confessed my feelings to your mother... and she returns them." The Twelfth Architect said. "It has been... so lovely. So wonderful. I am likely at the happiest I have ev-ever been. So... Truly. Thank you for helping me re-realize my feelings-affections. You brought this into my life."

@twelfth-architect-official

Eva has been experimenting with making a cleaning rune just as Twelfth came in. At the sight of her friend-saviour's bronze shell she exploded into a smile, the dirty dishes swiftly abandoned in favour of greeting them proper.

"Welcome, Architect! It is a joy, as ever, to see you here. My apologies for not warning you about the door, I have been... otherwise engaged."

At their words about the confession – a successful one, as she expected, the Weaverkin lit up with delight. She half-ran, half-jumped toward the automaton, almost tripping from the speed difficult for her untrained legs.

"Ah, such joyous news you bring! My dear friend, I appreciate the gratitude but you undersell yourself. A genius engineer such as you is bound to notice the cause of your feelings... Even if I helped speed up the process."

She appraises them and starts to weave. There are no runes – simple craftmanship that feels more similar to sculpting than embrodiery. One may guess that for Eva, it is a tactile art more than a visual one.

Mere minute later, a tapestry appears before Twelfth. It depicts...

Two crests, interweaving. Theirs and hers. The intersection is shown with careful, precise stitches that show the overlap without muddling the identity of each nature.

"A gift from me, to celebrate the occassion. It is merely decorative, yet... I feel there is not much I can offer you that you both need and are unable to make."

What do you give to a bug who has everything? The tapestry – a blanket, a shawl, for it can be many things, bears no magic, no practical use.

It is beautiful nontheless.

Like love, in a way.

[sylphsong-eva]

"You are.. not quite weaver-kin. We are similar in this regard."

@the-fool-eaten

Eva looks at the bug attentively, taking in everything of note in his appearance. A strange thing, it was, to see s many faces, similar yet different, after eternity alone.

The fellow spider looked ragged, worn down by the struggles of life in this unforgiving kingdom. There was a story to them.

{Does he hold resentment to our shared heritage, I wonder? Were they hurt like I was?}

She nods, then.

"Indeed. I wonder which blood makes up the other parts of you, if you are willing to share." – Eva speaks, – "Kin, are you hungry, perhaps?"

[the-fool-eaten]

Kin..

It was something he wasn't used to being called. There was a degree of fondness sparked in his face.

"Ah- Something to eat would be nice while we chat."

He'd heard whispers of her existence, the previous experiment, the one he was to be an improvement upon. He would work. He wouldn't be frail.

"I'm more than willing to share answers to your queries, if you have any. Though I don't believe I am of any other blood than spider."

Had they spliced him with anything else to try and get him to work, he was unsure.

[sylphsong-eva]

Eva nods and smiles lightly, seeing her guest's reaction, as she produces a sizeable meat dish from one of the newly-installed shelves in the Nest. A bunch of other foods laid about upon them as well, which was quite surprising, considering the artificial divinity of its main inhabitants.

There was, as well, a (significantly diminished) box of tea leaves. Eva set the chunk of meat before the spider, then started heating up the teapot with her unusual runic method. There was, after all, no stove here. Or a kitchen, for that matter.

"Only spider? A fascinating one you are, then," – she says as she pours the tea into his cup. It looked new, unlike most things in this ancient relic of times long gone, – "I don't remember any of my mothers bearing a nature with the same imprints as yours."

Eva pauses, then, and stares at another cup with an unreadable expression. Longing, perhaps? Or something else, older and more bitter?

"But then, I didn't know many of them. Did not have the chance to." – she adds, tone flat. Looks back at her guest, then, slightly apologetic, – "My other quiery would be anything you are willing to share. Time ever remains a thing I posess in abundance."

[the-fool-eaten]

Dullahan looked at his plate with a similar bitterness.

“Fascinating? I consider my nature rather plainly practical.”

He began cutting the meat into bite-size portions.

“As for my willingness to share, I suppose I ought to. Only to make it even should I ask you questions, hm?”

He certainly had a lot of them rattling in his head. The largest probably being ’how are you a creature moving up and about? Was he lied to all this time?’

“The idea behind my creation was a simple one. If the weavers could not create a child artificially, then they’d try creating a weaver to sire them traditionally.”

He gestured to himself with subdued, sarcastic fanfare.

“Thus, they set out to create me.”

The meat on his plate was almost entirely cut into little cubes as he was talking, seeming to want something to busy himself with.

[sylphsong-eva]

"Practicality does not make a subject less interesting, kin," – Eva denies, – "And I am glad you consider me worthy of sharing your story with. I as well would be glad to answer anything you may be curious about."

She quietens and listens intently, then. It is clear that his story is a cause of much pain seated deeply withwin the guarded shell.

A feeling envelops Dullahan. Sympathy. Compassion. Understanding. It feels like a cold balm upon a feverish body – enough to ease the pain, but not to cure it.

(I suppose I shall be more open about my nature as well.) – an odd thought-sound appears in his head. It feels like a guest rather than an intruder, – (I hear in your mind that you are wondering about the nature of my liberation. Would you wish to gaze upon my original shell?)

[the-fool-eaten]

His mind sputters, unable to decide on whether to relax under the sympathy, or to flare and buck up against the sudden mental intrusion.

His thoughts flailed, the whole thing sounding not unlike someone falling over a stack of chairs.

He didn't know anyone could just do that-

Wait- she could probably hear him thinking-

(Can I- think back at you?? This is rather unusual, and more than a tad distressing-)

Dullahan took a mouthful of his food.

(Though, such a skill comes in handy)

After sitting for a bit mulling it over, taking time to try and calm himself, he speaks aloud.

"Yes. I'll take you up on the offer to look art your original shell."

He'd heard whispers of The Previous. The Frail One. Too fragile to truly see the light of day.

[sylphsong-eva]

As Eva swiftly draws back from his mind, Dullahan catches an undercurrent of embarassment. It seems she is bound to slip like this for the foreseeable future, still. She whispers hurriedly:

"I deeply apologise. It seems that I have not learned my recent lesson."

"As for your question: indeed you can. I hear the thoughts directed at me almost as if they were spoken out loud," – she says, not meeting eyes for a while, – "It certainly is an useful skill as well, although I have had little opportunity to test its limits."

Eva sighs and whispers something along the lines of mind-reading customarily requiring minds present to be read, motioning to a hallway with cut wires gathering dust around it.

As the two Weaverkin descend, one significantly more awkwardly than the other, there is a noticeable increase of Soul in the air. It almost feels like the air gets thicker – albeit rejuvenating rather than suffocating.

Eva crawls out and straightens, extending a hand to her former body. Her avatar then stiffens, and a voice comes out of the tank; its ethereal cadence sounding unnatural from such an unwieldy thing.

"Here it is, kin," – her voice carries a hint of exhaustion and melancholy, – "A part of me is bound always to remain in this shell of iron."

[the-fool-eaten]

Ah, this is closer to the stories he'd been raised on..

He stared at the tank, placing a hand on it gingerly. What do you even say about such a thing?

"..They could have at least afforded you a clearer view, surely."

He reached up towards the glass, attempting to wipe off some of the accumulated cloudiness.

"I was left to rot myself, yes. But at least I was afforded the ability of movement. Such a fate is terribly cruel. They did not even check on you?"

He knew the answer to that. If they checked on her, he would have been, too.

"...You can come back into mobility now, if you wish. Spare yourself the prison."

[sylphsong-eva]

At Dullahan's words, Eva giggles – an odd sound that comes from two sources at the same time. Then, her cogwork body shifts, clearly awake once again.

"Lack of a clear view was the least of my problems, Dullahan," – she gently pushes his hands away from the glass, – "I am far from the first bug to be born blind."

She looks at her guest somberly, seeing in his thoughts the same void of abandonment the Weavers afforded Eva.

"We both know they did not."

She steps away from the glass and continues:

"Some simply could not, dead or runaway. Some lacked the desire almost as much as I resented the thought of seeing them. One... arrived far too late."

Eva shakes off her melancholy by clasping her hands together and saying:

"Worry not about this old body, kin." – she looks at it with an unreadable expression, – "It is not prison as much as an unfortunate life support."

Eva approacnes it again, a turmoil of emotions inside seeping into her face.

"The automaton body has no capacity to produce Soul it needs to keep functioning," – then, she swiftly swipes one claw along the line where her neck would be inside the tank, – "The only way for me to be at last free from it is death."

[the-fool-eaten]

Something heavy settles in his mind from her last statement.

At last free.. It sounded almost like a wish..

He stood for a while, tangled thoughts overlapping one another, barely able to keep ahold of a single one.

"...They didn't forget about you. I understand this fact would make the abandonment more bitter.. But I feel you would want to know."

(Though, it's not as if I could keep the knowledge to myself if i tried-)

He sat down in front of the tank, idly picking at some silk on the ground.

"They talked about you quite a bit. Never by name, but they spoke often of how I was meant to build upon where you had fallen short. I believe they were projecting, to a degree."

He patted a spot next to him, gesturing for her to sit.

...When exactly had he told his name..?

[sylphsong-eva]

Eva stiffened at her guest's words and stray thoughts, taking a while to process the invitation. She sat down as she collected herself, thinking on how she should proceed.

"I can tell you a way to conceal your thoughts, if you wish so. I do not think myself entitled to others' inner lives, even if they are open to me in the way they are not to most," – Eva suggests, – "Many bugs do as such passively, though my mothers mastered this skill with intent."

She looks down at... through her arms, somewhere faraway. Into the past, seems likely.

'Hide her deep, the despised child, our shame shown in a shell of iron. She is a wish cast vain, divinity mimicked in form too frail.' – she recounts in a whisper, looking again at Dullahan.

"I cannot say your words feel new to me. It is of little surprise that the Weavers would not forget their grand failure... Though it saddens me greatly to hear that they used it to pressure you."

Then, Eva shifts a bit in contemplation.

"...Permit me one more intrusion, kin." – she says, shame coating her words, – "I gleaned your name from a vivid memory that crossed your mind when you recounted the past. I apologise for witnessing what I were not meant to, though it is hard for me to shift my focus from thoughts so potent.

And I wish for death no longer. There were periods in my existence when I did, but I have no desire to return to them. Not when I have been granted an escape so much more grand and hopeful."

[the-fool-eaten]

Thoughts so potent..

"HA! Am I truly such a noisy thinker? I wonder if they purpose-built me as such!"

He flopped back onto the ground laughing. In the glow of the tank, runes were visible etched up and down his shell.

[CREATE-LIFE-MIND-CHANGE-WILL]

Once he stopped giggling, he stared at the ceiling of the nest, taking in her muttered words.

"Even if used to pressure me, I'm glad of your existence. It's hard to come by someone to truly relate to in circumstances as ours."

[sylphsong-eva]

Eva was taken aback by Dullahan's honest kindness. It would be well withwin his right to resent her, or feel a certain coldness at the very least. Yet here he is, extending her a hand.

She hears his laughter, looks at the runes woven into her kin's being and feels her heart being squeezed until it cracks and shatters.

{How come they allowed him to grow and change, unlike me, ever stagnant, only to use him so in the end? Such cruelty to have a mind unbound and body chained to a wretched purpose...}

Dullahan broke out of his directive-cage, in the end, Eva knows – for he sits before her now. She wonders if this is how she appears to others: something admirable, a survivor. In some ways, it feels like staring into a reflection, if it could move...

"I am thankful for your words. It feels liberating to hear them for someone who understands deeply how painful such a fate is."

Eva sits near the spider and compares their arms. The limbs are different length, shape, and colour, one with metal inside instead of bone, and yet: it is silk upon a skeleton, runes engraved with aim to create life.

She whispers, small and lost somewhere faraway:

"Can I call you brother? Then, maybe, we both shall never be as alone."

[the-fool-eaten]

Dullahan felt the weight of her heart being squeezed, and the cracking sent her feelings ricocheting right back at him.

Apparently, being so open works in either direction.

Tears began to prick at his eyes in response to emotions too great for a single moment to contain.

To be called brother..

He wanted to reach at the chance, to finally have someone to relate to.

But another part of him held his mind back.

He had had sisters. Sisters of flesh and measurements.

Kin of iron.. The wish cast vain.

"Yes. You may. I.. may I call you brother as well? I have had enough of sisters."

The cold of her arm felt comforting. Similarly artificial.

[sylphsong-eva]

Eva smiles bright as the Dream, the lights around the two only hoping to match her intensity.

"I accept any title you would give, for it is what you have chosen." – you, she thinks, and not them. Given by an equal freely rather than labeled without regard for preference or consent. It feels freeing. It feels like... – "I have as well seen enough sisterhood to last a mortal lifetime."

Lies, power trips, backstabbing, plain cruelty. The concepts of 'love' and 'family' for Weavers always had teeth: for every sister a spider – cannibalistic creation of a predator Pale.

But Eva is no sister. She understands, in that moment: it feels like a rebellion.

She'd been having a lot of these, lately. A small compensation for eternal stagnation, for the cycle unbroken 'forenow. Eva prays (to none but herself, for it is her birthright) for them keep going, over and over until there's naught but shards left of these olden cages.

A knot untangles itself in her Soul. One less weight upon the silksteel shoulders.

"Not long ago, I told my mother," – she begins, – "Yivel the Judge, if you know her as such, that I wished to be a Weaver."

Eva glances at Dullahan, who bears a complicated expression, and continues:

"Indeed. She looked at me almost precisely like that." – the avatar smiles with a hint of mischief in her eyes, – "To which I retorted – I am a Weaver indeed, but I shall never be like you.

I am no kin to them who abandoned me to a lonesome fate neverending. I am no kin to those demanded a place above all. I am no kin to those prideful things who cast many a wish vain and left to rot away."

The chamber dims for am moment as Eva's eyes narrow. Subtle fury scatters through the silkslights, radiance bursting through them in a barely controlled blaze.

"I told her," – she whispers; the words sound so loud the silence stills, – "That I will show her just how much better Weaverkind can be".

And she raises a cup that she brings near Dullahan. The tea's gone cold long ago, but that does not matter. Cold feels right in that moment – a ruination of old tradition in things even so small.

"So raise a glass, brother. Let us drink, – even if I cannot ,– to wish on a future beyond their crawling shadow. Raise a glass and Weave a tapestry of future that is ours and ours alone."

[sylphsong-eva]

The quiet and timid sound of glass orbs gently clinking against each other reached the now gaping door of Weavenest Atla first, long before the faint and warm glow of light hugged the frame of what once was a solid gate.

A hooded figure, meak and scrawny, stood hesitating before it, only to fearlessly make their way inside. The glass orbs containing light swayed on their staff almost melodically as they walked inside, aimlessly and without a trace of urgency, stopping by every corner they deemed interesting.

Despite perhaps looking slightly eerie, so out of place, the hooded figure's aura would not have felt like a threat; instead like that of a lost child. Quiet, innocent, and yet oddly sad in its loneliness.

Once they stepped close enough to take notice of Eva's tank, they were bathed by light. A maskless bug with hazy vision, slowly let their staff lay down on the floor to come a little closer, tilting their head like a child full of wonder.

"How pretty... like snow~"

They said softly to themself. The staff's warm light now overpowered by Eva's divine glow.

[OOC: I hope this is acceptable, I am not very good at writing haha ^^);;]

For about an hour, maybe two – though who knew, so deep underground where sun has no power? – Eva was sitting alongside Dea in the now-uninhabited Shaman's chapel.

The child has kept herself busy with munching on lichen, exploration a d odd games Eva couldn' make sense out of. They didn't have to, she decided. Anything that makes one glow so brightly with joy was certainly worth it. Wrapped in strange comfort like as if by a blanket, she started to doze off – as much as that was possible for a thing like her.

One moment, Eva floats in the familiar space between Dream and the waking.

The next, her attention is pulled to a creature that stands in front of... No, that feels wrong, she sees them, but cannot figure out neither shape nor colour. They are...

Ah. It may be that the sensory-dampening rod has gotten her too used to feeling detached from that body.

She Focuses.

"Thank you, stranger. I have seen no snow to judge the accuracy of your comparison, but it feels a compliment nontheless." – the glass of Eva's tank flickers evenly as she speaks, – "How unfortunate it is that you have arrived just after I... Ah, that may be confusing – my avatar left. In this state, there is little I can offer to you other than conversation."

She cannot deny her curiousity about the timid creature, and so she looks into their crest, for their form is out of reach for her without eyes to see it with.

It does not hold any elements that could tell her the bug's species – that beoing of the ones she knows, which is far from a repectable amount, – but she picks out something about the wanderer:

Drive. This is a creature full of wonder, just like Eva. She is excited for this meeting, then.

[maryymaruu]

"Aah!!"

The hooded pilgrim startled at the sound, flinching and stumbling onto their back near to their staff.

Not expecting any sound at all, they weren't even sure where it came from, but the gentle tone of Eva's voice was quick to put them back at ease.

"Hello? Are you in here?"

They looked towards the illuminated glass of the tank flickering, as if not sure if they're seeing right.

On all fours they crawled slightly closer and timidly reached out as if to touch it, their robes too long for them, so it was only the fabric that gently brushed the glass- "!!"

Only to jolt back and tuck their hands to themselves, probably discouraged by the protective barriers around Eva's tank.

"I promise I didn't break it!"

They yelped as if someone scolded them, but then listened in to what she had to say.

"Oh... so you are not here? I could have sworn, you look so real.. I can hear you too! You sound so divine, and I am no moth, but I could not take my eyes away, white as snow..."

Their speech sounded slightly confused, only getting worse the longer they talked, and drifting off into an off-tune, gibberish song, with no rhyme or rhythm.

"...snow took names before the night came, chewed the maps, one by one, the lanterns faded, count the bells, count the vows..."

And then only a quiet hum at the end, until it quieted down. After a moment more of blankly staring, they pulled themselves up from the ground and moved to retrieve their staff, bringing it back to an upright position, the glass orbs clinking.

"So rude of me to stare, so rude so rude, I know better I do!"

They leaned onto their staff, almost like hugging it.

"Please forgive me. Are you cold? We bring warmth and gladly share!"

They leaned the staff with warmly glowing orbs just a little closer, though keeping a respectful distance; inside them something akin to a silk fly, if it wasn't for the lack of soul, replaced by heat.

Crest of the stranger shouldn't show anything particularly special, unless a blank slate would be considered as such. They do not possess any.

Then, they did something stranger;

"It's okay, we're not stalling for long, I promise."

Turned to their side, and addressed someone not present.

"We have to stick together, remember!"

Clearly not addressing Eva, yet there was absolutely no one else she could have sensed nearby.

[sylphsong-eva]

Eva listens curiously to the little bug's odd ramblings between responses she could tell are directed at her. They were not the first bug to come to her that housed multitudes beneath their shell: that crystaline Vessel, the little Nightmare child, Fifth Sentinel... None as bright or transient as her Lady, but beautiful in different ways; as life tends to be.

Frankly, the constricting blankness of her guest's crest seemed unique – a contrast against overlapping, interwoven features as complex as their owners' minds are. Fascinating as much as concerning, but she is best not to pry. Eva feels entitled to her inquisitivness after eternity of lonesome boredom, but it is against her principles to take what others are not willing to give.

She knows: to let her Pale nature overpower will and moral will be the greatest betrayal.

So she laughs kindly instead: a sound like bells chiming as wind caresses them, – divinity descending into soft familiarity.

"I am certainly as real as any of us are. Some Weaver philosophers claimed that such a claim would be true for none and even the world itself, and yet we remain." – Eva says with humour that intends to comfort, – "And it is hardly possible for you to break something engraved with layers of protective runes. Even more so by accident."

The light inside her iron vessel pulses evenly as she speaks, a comforting radiance that soothes the mind.

"I thank you for your offer, though I must decline. It would be a waste to waste your warmth on one without the ability to feel it. Both my shells share this limitation, I'm afeared."

And, Eva thinks, even if she could, would she wish to? Would warmth burn like light blinded, bringing pain to one who was born into its absence?

But such were not thoughts to share with the kind stranger. Or more, maybe?

Are they a Voidling, the traveler's companion? Those bear no Soul inside, though their presence is characterised by an absence so potent it could be felt from afar. Or something else, a headmate she could not locate withwin the bug's nature?

"You speak to someone I cannot percieve, good bug. Would they wish to be introduced? You seem to head in the same direction."

[maryymaruu]

And comfort did her voice and laughter bring, the pilgrim easing onto their staff, hazy eyes still fixed to her light now gentle. They may have no idea of who Eve is, nor of her essence and kin, only instinctively marveling at her, as a simple bug inherently below a pale being.

Blissfully unaware of her inner conflicts between curiosity and manners, they smiled, satisfied with the confirmation she is indeed real.

"Ma'am, you speak so wonderfully, so wonderfully like the Citadel's guards and scholars are told to do~"

They shifted their gaze to the side again, addressing someone else.

"We must be getting close, we must!"

Eva's senses were not faulty- the hooded pilgrim was truly alone, not a creature beside them. Not another sentience within their shell. Merely echoes of the past.

"I told you I heard something, and you didn't believe me! I knew this was the way, we aren't lost!"

They went silent for a moment, listening, as if waiting for the other to respond- but there was only silence.

"Yes yes..." They continued, then turned and addressed Eva again.

"Ma'am, why don't you come with us? Curious you are indeed, more than one shell you say, here and not here, not warm but declining the warmth.."

They asked, as if completely oblivious to the iron cast shell between them and Eva, almost insensitively so, though without an ounce of ill intent.

"Oh yes! How rude of me, how rude! I know better, I do! I am here with my caravan. We are heading for the legend-swept Citadel. They called us, promised a safe haven amidst the cold surface, hoping to find a nook to call our own, to keep our flame alive. It's cold out, it's so cold..."

Their speech began trailing off again, leaving their sentence unfinished for a moment, as their grip on the staff tensed.

"Yes, we.. we are cold... the names.. lost in snow... white like snow.. so beautiful.. so cold, count them, count them bells, make them spark..." and they began drifting off into a quiet hum. Hum of a melody foreign to this land.

[sylphsong-eva]

Such odd thing thia piligrim was. 'Here and not here' – they described Eva's shells, but ah, such irony, – the same could be said about their mind. But that mattered not to the Pale creature: the bug's sanity matters not in the face of their actions, and this one was a compassionate heart.

"Thank you, travelling ember. It would make sense for my speech to near resemblance to the higher castes, for my Weaver mothers were the highest of them all."

She thinks over their words, trying to overlay her guest's words with something that she feels should be familiar. But many kinds of bugs sought the Citadel, and she could not glean any insight about the wanderer from their words and prayers.

"To the Citadel? Know you would not find here what you have heard in tales; the grand gilded lie has been shattered, its Monarch slain and old sins consumed by the Void." – Eva says, – "I would offer to lead you there, if not for my lack of... navigational knowledge. But I can tell you much of it, mayhaps more than most."

The godling pauses, weighing her options and deciding that the journey should not hurt.

"My help shall be in exchange for you guiding me and my small companion to the Exhaust organ. It is an entrance to the Citadel you seek: not as grand as the main gate, yet beautiful in its unending rebellious song. The path to it is treacherous, ladden with hardship and danger, but I promise protection, should you lead the way."

The lights above the piligrim flicker in a succession, leading away from the chamber like a guide.

"Seek us out in the Moss Chapel, should you take my offer."

[sylphsong-eva]

"You are.. not quite weaver-kin. We are similar in this regard."

@the-fool-eaten

Eva looks at the bug attentively, taking in everything of note in his appearance. A strange thing, it was, to see s many faces, similar yet different, after eternity alone.

The fellow spider looked ragged, worn down by the struggles of life in this unforgiving kingdom. There was a story to them.

{Does he hold resentment to our shared heritage, I wonder? Were they hurt like I was?}

She nods, then.

"Indeed. I wonder which blood makes up the other parts of you, if you are willing to share." – Eva speaks, – "Kin, are you hungry, perhaps?"

[the-fool-eaten]

Kin..

It was something he wasn't used to being called. There was a degree of fondness sparked in his face.

"Ah- Something to eat would be nice while we chat."

He'd heard whispers of her existence, the previous experiment, the one he was to be an improvement upon. He would work. He wouldn't be frail.

"I'm more than willing to share answers to your queries, if you have any. Though I don't believe I am of any other blood than spider."

Had they spliced him with anything else to try and get him to work, he was unsure.

[sylphsong-eva]

Eva nods and smiles lightly, seeing her guest's reaction, as she produces a sizeable meat dish from one of the newly-installed shelves in the Nest. A bunch of other foods laid about upon them as well, which was quite surprising, considering the artificial divinity of its main inhabitants.

There was, as well, a (significantly diminished) box of tea leaves. Eva set the chunk of meat before the spider, then started heating up the teapot with her unusual runic method. There was, after all, no stove here. Or a kitchen, for that matter.

"Only spider? A fascinating one you are, then," – she says as she pours the tea into his cup. It looked new, unlike most things in this ancient relic of times long gone, – "I don't remember any of my mothers bearing a nature with the same imprints as yours."

Eva pauses, then, and stares at another cup with an unreadable expression. Longing, perhaps? Or something else, older and more bitter?

"But then, I didn't know many of them. Did not have the chance to." – she adds, tone flat. Looks back at her guest, then, slightly apologetic, – "My other quiery would be anything you are willing to share. Time ever remains a thing I posess in abundance."

[the-fool-eaten]

Dullahan looked at his plate with a similar bitterness.

“Fascinating? I consider my nature rather plainly practical.”

He began cutting the meat into bite-size portions.

“As for my willingness to share, I suppose I ought to. Only to make it even should I ask you questions, hm?”

He certainly had a lot of them rattling in his head. The largest probably being ’how are you a creature moving up and about? Was he lied to all this time?’

“The idea behind my creation was a simple one. If the weavers could not create a child artificially, then they’d try creating a weaver to sire them traditionally.”

He gestured to himself with subdued, sarcastic fanfare.

“Thus, they set out to create me.”

The meat on his plate was almost entirely cut into little cubes as he was talking, seeming to want something to busy himself with.

[sylphsong-eva]

"Practicality does not make a subject less interesting, kin," – Eva denies, – "And I am glad you consider me worthy of sharing your story with. I as well would be glad to answer anything you may be curious about."

She quietens and listens intently, then. It is clear that his story is a cause of much pain seated deeply withwin the guarded shell.

A feeling envelops Dullahan. Sympathy. Compassion. Understanding. It feels like a cold balm upon a feverish body – enough to ease the pain, but not to cure it.

(I suppose I shall be more open about my nature as well.) – an odd thought-sound appears in his head. It feels like a guest rather than an intruder, – (I hear in your mind that you are wondering about the nature of my liberation. Would you wish to gaze upon my original shell?)

[the-fool-eaten]

His mind sputters, unable to decide on whether to relax under the sympathy, or to flare and buck up against the sudden mental intrusion.

His thoughts flailed, the whole thing sounding not unlike someone falling over a stack of chairs.

He didn't know anyone could just do that-

Wait- she could probably hear him thinking-

(Can I- think back at you?? This is rather unusual, and more than a tad distressing-)

Dullahan took a mouthful of his food.

(Though, such a skill comes in handy)

After sitting for a bit mulling it over, taking time to try and calm himself, he speaks aloud.

"Yes. I'll take you up on the offer to look art your original shell."

He'd heard whispers of The Previous. The Frail One. Too fragile to truly see the light of day.

[sylphsong-eva]

As Eva swiftly draws back from his mind, Dullahan catches an undercurrent of embarassment. It seems she is bound to slip like this for the foreseeable future, still. She whispers hurriedly:

"I deeply apologise. It seems that I have not learned my recent lesson."

"As for your question: indeed you can. I hear the thoughts directed at me almost as if they were spoken out loud," – she says, not meeting eyes for a while, – "It certainly is an useful skill as well, although I have had little opportunity to test its limits."

Eva sighs and whispers something along the lines of mind-reading customarily requiring minds present to be read, motioning to a hallway with cut wires gathering dust around it.

As the two Weaverkin descend, one significantly more awkwardly than the other, there is a noticeable increase of Soul in the air. It almost feels like the air gets thicker – albeit rejuvenating rather than suffocating.

Eva crawls out and straightens, extending a hand to her former body. Her avatar then stiffens, and a voice comes out of the tank; its ethereal cadence sounding unnatural from such an unwieldy thing.

"Here it is, kin," – her voice carries a hint of exhaustion and melancholy, – "A part of me is bound always to remain in this shell of iron."

[the-fool-eaten]

Ah, this is closer to the stories he'd been raised on..

He stared at the tank, placing a hand on it gingerly. What do you even say about such a thing?

"..They could have at least afforded you a clearer view, surely."

He reached up towards the glass, attempting to wipe off some of the accumulated cloudiness.

"I was left to rot myself, yes. But at least I was afforded the ability of movement. Such a fate is terribly cruel. They did not even check on you?"

He knew the answer to that. If they checked on her, he would have been, too.

"...You can come back into mobility now, if you wish. Spare yourself the prison."

[sylphsong-eva]

At Dullahan's words, Eva giggles – an odd sound that comes from two sources at the same time. Then, her cogwork body shifts, clearly awake once again.

"Lack of a clear view was the least of my problems, Dullahan," – she gently pushes his hands away from the glass, – "I am far from the first bug to be born blind."

She looks at her guest somberly, seeing in his thoughts the same void of abandonment the Weavers afforded Eva.

"We both know they did not."

She steps away from the glass and continues:

"Some simply could not, dead or runaway. Some lacked the desire almost as much as I resented the thought of seeing them. One... arrived far too late."

Eva shakes off her melancholy by clasping her hands together and saying:

"Worry not about this old body, kin." – she looks at it with an unreadable expression, – "It is not prison as much as an unfortunate life support."

Eva approacnes it again, a turmoil of emotions inside seeping into her face.

"The automaton body has no capacity to produce Soul it needs to keep functioning," – then, she swiftly swipes one claw along the line where her neck would be inside the tank, – "The only way for me to be at last free from it is death."

[the-fool-eaten]

Something heavy settles in his mind from her last statement.

At last free.. It sounded almost like a wish..

He stood for a while, tangled thoughts overlapping one another, barely able to keep ahold of a single one.

"...They didn't forget about you. I understand this fact would make the abandonment more bitter.. But I feel you would want to know."

(Though, it's not as if I could keep the knowledge to myself if i tried-)

He sat down in front of the tank, idly picking at some silk on the ground.

"They talked about you quite a bit. Never by name, but they spoke often of how I was meant to build upon where you had fallen short. I believe they were projecting, to a degree."

He patted a spot next to him, gesturing for her to sit.

...When exactly had he told his name..?

[sylphsong-eva]

Eva stiffened at her guest's words and stray thoughts, taking a while to process the invitation. She sat down as she collected herself, thinking on how she should proceed.

"I can tell you a way to conceal your thoughts, if you wish so. I do not think myself entitled to others' inner lives, even if they are open to me in the way they are not to most," – Eva suggests, – "Many bugs do as such passively, though my mothers mastered this skill with intent."

She looks down at... through her arms, somewhere faraway. Into the past, seems likely.

'Hide her deep, the despised child, our shame shown in a shell of iron. She is a wish cast vain, divinity mimicked in form too frail.' – she recounts in a whisper, looking again at Dullahan.

"I cannot say your words feel new to me. It is of little surprise that the Weavers would not forget their grand failure... Though it saddens me greatly to hear that they used it to pressure you."

Then, Eva shifts a bit in contemplation.

"...Permit me one more intrusion, kin." – she says, shame coating her words, – "I gleaned your name from a vivid memory that crossed your mind when you recounted the past. I apologise for witnessing what I were not meant to, though it is hard for me to shift my focus from thoughts so potent.

And I wish for death no longer. There were periods in my existence when I did, but I have no desire to return to them. Not when I have been granted an escape so much more grand and hopeful."

[the-fool-eaten]

Thoughts so potent..

"HA! Am I truly such a noisy thinker? I wonder if they purpose-built me as such!"

He flopped back onto the ground laughing. In the glow of the tank, runes were visible etched up and down his shell.

[CREATE-LIFE-MIND-CHANGE-WILL]

Once he stopped giggling, he stared at the ceiling of the nest, taking in her muttered words.

"Even if used to pressure me, I'm glad of your existence. It's hard to come by someone to truly relate to in circumstances as ours."

[sylphsong-eva]

Eva was taken aback by Dullahan's honest kindness. It would be well withwin his right to resent her, or feel a certain coldness at the very least. Yet here he is, extending her a hand.

She hears his laughter, looks at the runes woven into her kin's being and feels her heart being squeezed until it cracks and shatters.

{How come they allowed him to grow and change, unlike me, ever stagnant, only to use him so in the end? Such cruelty to have a mind unbound and body chained to a wretched purpose...}

Dullahan broke out of his directive-cage, in the end, Eva knows – for he sits before her now. She wonders if this is how she appears to others: something admirable, a survivor. In some ways, it feels like staring into a reflection, if it could move...

"I am thankful for your words. It feels liberating to hear them for someone who understands deeply how painful such a fate is."

Eva sits near the spider and compares their arms. The limbs are different length, shape, and colour, one with metal inside instead of bone, and yet: it is silk upon a skeleton, runes engraved with aim to create life.

She whispers, small and lost somewhere faraway:

"Can I call you brother? Then, maybe, we both shall never be as alone."

[the-hallownest-pharloom-lights]

Mod of @thelastescalion @twelfth-architect-official @theabyssalshaman @apollodisthehalfmoth and @rootrobot here

I really like @weaveryivel. They write dialogue really, really well! And they're also just... so much fun to bounce ideas off of, and they have the best ideas, they're just great. I'm obsessed with Weave and Weld, and so are they... and possibly so is the Discord Server, from what I've heard and what they've shown me?

@sylphsong-eva is a fantastic artist who also writes very good prose.

@third-sentinel has FANTASTIC characterization and how they show it, every single action makes the character shine and they're really good at keeping them consistent

@fifth-sentinal-official is excellent at portraying the "chaotic younger brother" vibe

And @rosy-official has given me the most fun interactions with Apollodis I have ever had. And Rosy is just... Such a good character. The way she/he just... Manages to stay silly and cheerful all the time... And yet the way the mod writes the far more angsty portions, it hits like a truck every time. Every single time. Also, possible intersex representation that's portrayed relatively respectfully? Far more respectfully than usual with OCs, anyway, given the lack of sexualization? Which is awesome?

And @the-pale-king... Has possibly one of my favorite interpretations of the Pale King I've ever seen. Every single line feels like him. Every single action feels just so... him. We know so little about the Pale King, and much of what we do know is just how he's influenced Hallownest and what he's done, rather than who he is, but I can see him, so vividly, every single time I read one of their posts. The way they balance "prideful god-king," "Self-loathing father," "desperate ruler," and "noble royal," it's a juggling act they do masterfully. Genuinely, super well-done!

!!!

[sylphsong-eva]

OOC: THANK YOU!!! Oh, this was wonderful to wake up to today.

This whole review is some of the most motivating things I have ever seen. Thank you again!!

[sylphsong-eva]

The quiet and timid sound of glass orbs gently clinking against each other reached the now gaping door of Weavenest Atla first, long before the faint and warm glow of light hugged the frame of what once was a solid gate.

A hooded figure, meak and scrawny, stood hesitating before it, only to fearlessly make their way inside. The glass orbs containing light swayed on their staff almost melodically as they walked inside, aimlessly and without a trace of urgency, stopping by every corner they deemed interesting.

Despite perhaps looking slightly eerie, so out of place, the hooded figure's aura would not have felt like a threat; instead like that of a lost child. Quiet, innocent, and yet oddly sad in its loneliness.

Once they stepped close enough to take notice of Eva's tank, they were bathed by light. A maskless bug with hazy vision, slowly let their staff lay down on the floor to come a little closer, tilting their head like a child full of wonder.

"How pretty... like snow~"

They said softly to themself. The staff's warm light now overpowered by Eva's divine glow.

[OOC: I hope this is acceptable, I am not very good at writing haha ^^);;]

For about an hour, maybe two – though who knew, so deep underground where sun has no power? – Eva was sitting alongside Dea in the now-uninhabited Shaman's chapel.

The child has kept herself busy with munching on lichen, exploration a d odd games Eva couldn' make sense out of. They didn't have to, she decided. Anything that makes one glow so brightly with joy was certainly worth it. Wrapped in strange comfort like as if by a blanket, she started to doze off – as much as that was possible for a thing like her.

One moment, Eva floats in the familiar space between Dream and the waking.

The next, her attention is pulled to a creature that stands in front of... No, that feels wrong, she sees them, but cannot figure out neither shape nor colour. They are...

Ah. It may be that the sensory-dampening rod has gotten her too used to feeling detached from that body.

She Focuses.

"Thank you, stranger. I have seen no snow to judge the accuracy of your comparison, but it feels a compliment nontheless." – the glass of Eva's tank flickers evenly as she speaks, – "How unfortunate it is that you have arrived just after I... Ah, that may be confusing – my avatar left. In this state, there is little I can offer to you other than conversation."

She cannot deny her curiousity about the timid creature, and so she looks into their crest, for their form is out of reach for her without eyes to see it with.

It does not hold any elements that could tell her the bug's species – that beoing of the ones she knows, which is far from a repectable amount, – but she picks out something about the wanderer:

Drive. This is a creature full of wonder, just like Eva. She is excited for this meeting, then.

[maryymaruu]

"Aah!!"

The hooded pilgrim startled at the sound, flinching and stumbling onto their back near to their staff.

Not expecting any sound at all, they weren't even sure where it came from, but the gentle tone of Eva's voice was quick to put them back at ease.

"Hello? Are you in here?"

They looked towards the illuminated glass of the tank flickering, as if not sure if they're seeing right.

On all fours they crawled slightly closer and timidly reached out as if to touch it, their robes too long for them, so it was only the fabric that gently brushed the glass- "!!"

Only to jolt back and tuck their hands to themselves, probably discouraged by the protective barriers around Eva's tank.

"I promise I didn't break it!"

They yelped as if someone scolded them, but then listened in to what she had to say.

"Oh... so you are not here? I could have sworn, you look so real.. I can hear you too! You sound so divine, and I am no moth, but I could not take my eyes away, white as snow..."

Their speech sounded slightly confused, only getting worse the longer they talked, and drifting off into an off-tune, gibberish song, with no rhyme or rhythm.

"...snow took names before the night came, chewed the maps, one by one, the lanterns faded, count the bells, count the vows..."

And then only a quiet hum at the end, until it quieted down. After a moment more of blankly staring, they pulled themselves up from the ground and moved to retrieve their staff, bringing it back to an upright position, the glass orbs clinking.

"So rude of me to stare, so rude so rude, I know better I do!"

They leaned onto their staff, almost like hugging it.

"Please forgive me. Are you cold? We bring warmth and gladly share!"

They leaned the staff with warmly glowing orbs just a little closer, though keeping a respectful distance; inside them something akin to a silk fly, if it wasn't for the lack of soul, replaced by heat.

Crest of the stranger shouldn't show anything particularly special, unless a blank slate would be considered as such. They do not possess any.

Then, they did something stranger;

"It's okay, we're not stalling for long, I promise."

Turned to their side, and addressed someone not present.

"We have to stick together, remember!"

Clearly not addressing Eva, yet there was absolutely no one else she could have sensed nearby.

[sylphsong-eva]

Eva listens curiously to the little bug's odd ramblings between responses she could tell are directed at her. They were not the first bug to come to her that housed multitudes beneath their shell: that crystaline Vessel, the little Nightmare child, Fifth Sentinel... None as bright or transient as her Lady, but beautiful in different ways; as life tends to be.

Frankly, the constricting blankness of her guest's crest seemed unique – a contrast against overlapping, interwoven features as complex as their owners' minds are. Fascinating as much as concerning, but she is best not to pry. Eva feels entitled to her inquisitivness after eternity of lonesome boredom, but it is against her principles to take what others are not willing to give.

She knows: to let her Pale nature overpower will and moral will be the greatest betrayal.

So she laughs kindly instead: a sound like bells chiming as wind caresses them, – divinity descending into soft familiarity.

"I am certainly as real as any of us are. Some Weaver philosophers claimed that such a claim would be true for none and even the world itself, and yet we remain." – Eva says with humour that intends to comfort, – "And it is hardly possible for you to break something engraved with layers of protective runes. Even more so by accident."

The light inside her iron vessel pulses evenly as she speaks, a comforting radiance that soothes the mind.

"I thank you for your offer, though I must decline. It would be a waste to waste your warmth on one without the ability to feel it. Both my shells share this limitation, I'm afeared."

And, Eva thinks, even if she could, would she wish to? Would warmth burn like light blinded, bringing pain to one who was born into its absence?

But such were not thoughts to share with the kind stranger. Or more, maybe?

Are they a Voidling, the traveler's companion? Those bear no Soul inside, though their presence is characterised by an absence so potent it could be felt from afar. Or something else, a headmate she could not locate withwin the bug's nature?

"You speak to someone I cannot percieve, good bug. Would they wish to be introduced? You seem to head in the same direction."

[sylphsong-eva]

Is your 'Syplhsong' what allows you to manipulate crests?

Because Lace can use song to conduct Silkflies, and your Sylphsong can produce seemingly infinite soul in the form of Silk, like other Pale Beings... and Sylphean Slugs produce Pale Oil and all that...

So do you need to sing for the crest stuff to work or what?

You've an inquisitive mind, hidden bug.

Your assumption of Sylphsong creating Soul is indeed correct, but the ability to percieve Crests is given to me by another gift. I have grown to simply call it "sight", as for the longest time, it was the only kind afforded to me – to see the threads of life that permeate so many things while staying blind to what seems like a given to most.

...I find it curious that Lace posseses such a power. I shan't be as surprised as I am about another Pale creature silkspun having control over Soul in such a way, and yet an odd feeling fills me.

Is it kinship, perhaps? I longed to meet the two creations of Monarch above from the moment I learned of them, and this brings them yet closer to the forefront of my mind.

We shall sing together, however long the journey proves.

[sylphsong-eva]

I have f-finalized the design, Ms. Eva! It is a small canister designed to contain soul. All you need is to focus and you will be able to unleash the power of soul into the container!

[It appears to be a glass container with mirrors facing the container along one side connected to the lid... which has evidently been sealed shut. The mirrors have some kind of rune carved into them, though nothing like Eva has seen.]

With this, you will be able to help and harm if need be! I have heard you are not one for violence, but self defense is necessary at times, I think.

(Ooc translation: it's a d8, but 1 and 8 are a block who you can give to yourself or any ally. Rolling a 4 or below adds that value onto your or any ally's roll. If you want, you can add double its value, but you can't roll that die for 1 turn. Other than that, it's a soul cannon you can use for storytelling. Hope you like it!)

Eva takes the object from the craftsbug and turns it around, the mirrors reflecting their surroundings in a caleidoscopic pattern. It was beautiful in its confusing reflectiveness and masterful ornamentation.

But the most fascinating part were the runes etched onto the glass:

Soul + Containment + Protection + Conduction + Focus + Control

Was depicted on every mirror inside the vessel. It was an unusual rune, a lot more complex than Eva has thought a common bug to be able to create, and carved onto such a small surface...

She looked at the bug with unhidden admiration. Runecraft was a difficult art even for the race born into it – the Weavers, – and yet this talanted good samaritan was able to accomplish that not every spider or scholar could.

Eva Focused and tried to pull the Soul motes from the rich air inside the Shamans' former home into the canister. It worked – worked well, in fact. The tool read almost like a wisp hungry for silk in the Weaverkin's unique perception.

She looked at the tool again in wonder, then, experssion unchanging, at her helper.

"This is exquisite work, kind bug. Such precise craftsmanship ought to be rewarded. Tell, would some artifacts inside my Weavenest be useful in your work?"

[creige-bartender-of-halfway-home]

What do you think stars look like?

[underworker-5459]

maybe like the glowy sparks that flicker off of the gears here

[fourth-chorus-official]

"STARS" ...?

UNSURE... THIS... CHORUS...

... SMALL... DULL... ALONE... BRILLIANT... TOGETHER...

LANTERNS... GUIDING... THROUGH... DARKNESS...

[god-tamer-official]

HM??? THE STARS???

I BET THEY BLAZE LIKE THE TORCHES ON THE ARENA WALLS—ONLY A THOUSAND TIMES HOTTER!!!

[roachfeeder-real]

stars…? i think that’s a term for just, any sufficiently bright collection of lights.

from what few instances of good lighting i’ve seen though… i think stars present themselves in the same way some higher beings would: shiny and grand… what frauds.

[brokey-vessel]

yeaaa! glowing like godss!

mm… prebty.

[the-flickering-wanderer]

I have seen the stars overhead a few times, when travel took me out of caverns and into desolate deserts of ash and howling winds. It's cold on the aboveground, but the stars they....

Well, they appear like dots, bright white or yellow or blue in the inky blackness. Lanterns are a good way to describe it, yet they don't change much.

Another traveler once said the stars were long here before anyone else was, that some higher beings came from the stars

I... I can't say for sure I really know now anymore

[the-ghost-of-hallownest]

l,ke th e spaark,s whn mmy na.il ,,hitts ano .,,,tthers

[sylphsong-eva]

Mayhaps, like motes of Soul glowing in front of an endless sky. Or like snowflakes – small pieces of brightness lighting up the winter night.

How I wish I could witness any of these sights myself someday...