Ghost is gone. Descended back into the all-consuming dark from which the dripping little vessel had just escaped. Of their own insane volition, no less.
If it were harder for them to trust, they’d think their sibling had a death wish. And until it returns, they’re left with Hornet. Just the two of them… alone.
With a sigh that’s more like a whisper of true silence, the smaller vessel breaks the staredown with Hornet to pace at the ledge, back and forth, occasionally peeking over the edge to keep a lookout for their new sibling. Even if it’s impossible to see further than a few platforms down, in this accursed place…
At the very least, Hornet is becoming less wary, albeit slowly; if the new vessel had meant any harm, it would have thrown Ghost over the ledge when it had the chance, and would be less concerned with its sibling over its own cracked mask. Little Ghost is strong, stronger than any Vessel she’s faced so far, but she supposes that the newcomer wouldn’t know as much.
After many minutes of the soft tap-tap-tap of the Vessel’s pacing, Hornet gives a slightly annoyed huff, crossing her arms under her shawl and affixing the pacing Vessel with a terse glare. “Still yourself, Vessel. Though they may be small in stature, the Ghost of Hallownest is not one to be underestimated. I made that mistake once, and they ensured to take advantage.”
… Her stance relaxes almost imperceptibly with her next admittance, though. “I may not know what is down there, precisely. But I know the little Ghost will persevere. They have been cut down many a time, and they still yet live. If nothing else could kill them, I doubt a silly hole would.”
She won’t admit the uncertainty she feels, even as she speaks so confidently. Yes, Ghost has made it thus far, but what’s down there is beyond even her understanding. The mere notion of any place in Hallownest that is strange to her is unsettling. It could be beasts of sizes never before seen, it could be monstrous constructs ready to shred the Vessel, it could be anything. And she would have no idea.
Brushing the troubling thoughts aside- as a Protector has no use worrying about hypotheticals- she notices the strange Vessel has matched her stare with one of its own. Not a particularly hostile one, but not quite at ease either. Based on the lilt of their head, they seem… confused. But what about? … She huffs to herself in moderate annoyance; She should really find someone who knows that hand language, but there are already so few left in Hallownest. Where would she even begin…?
“What do you want?” Silence from the Vessel.
“Right, you… ugh. Let me go back over my words, give me a moment.” Hornet scours her mind for the right words. “Are you wondering about Ghost’s apparent immortality?” A shake of the head in response, which is at least something. Hm… must be something common among Vessels. Which is strange, as she’s found enough dead ones to contradict that… “Then you are curious about the title I have given them, yes?” Finally, a nod. Ah, that would make sense. Vessels do not naturally have titles or names. They simply… are.
“They are a ghost of the kingdom’s past. A whisper of what should never have been, a last desperate measure that my father-” she spits the word with fire and venom enough to kill a Vengefly, “created. Taking something ancient that should not have been disturbed, in an attempt to save his doomed kingdom from the wrath of a vengeful goddess. As such, their title; the Ghost of Hallownest.”
That makes sense, the Vessel ponders in awe, but what about calling it Little Ghost? … They then give a quiet groan, sucking a bit of the noise from the air around it. How to even start approaching this topic? Maybe they could try to make hand motions to…? No, no, because how would they narrow it down to something so abstract as a name, of all things? If only that strange blue core could have given them a voice as well. Although they supposed they might be able to narrow it down over a few questions, and honestly, it’s better than just standing in awkward silence…
Crossing one arm and tapping their chin with the other, they look at the ground… and then, with a small clap, they try to get Hornet’s attention. Easy enough, as the jump already drew her attention. “What is it, Vessel?” They wave their hands around a bit, sitting on the ground and patting the loose dirt and hard stone beside themself.
Hornet stares, unmoving.
“I...am not sitting down. I must remain vigilant for the little ghost’s return.” The vessel pouts, crossing their arms in front of them and staring up at Hornet intently. To her credit, she manages to prevent herself from shuddering. No less unsettling when a newcomer does it… Heaving a rather exasperated sigh, she paces over to the Vessel and lowers herself down to a crouch beside them. No less convincing, either. She really must learn to ignore their puppy-eyes.
“Alright, alright. I am sitting. Happy now?” A nod. “What did you want from me, squib?” … Hm. Another pause, as they consider how to best go about this. Charades, obviously, but how do they convey that in the first place? … Ah, of course! They hold up two fingers, earning a puzzled look from the spiderling. “… Two what?” They motion from their mouth, like something spilling outwards, and Hornet (poorly) suppresses a smile. “Ah, yes. Charades. I am familiar with this, Ghost often required use of this method to communicate their more complex thoughts. Two words.” They nod excitedly, clapping their little paws together! She understood!! Thank goodness she and Ghost were apparently so close!
After holding up one little nubbly paw-finger, and Hornet nodding, the vessel holds one hand close to the ground. It takes Hornet a moment to think of something to guess. “Hm… low?” A shaken head. “Small?” A so-so hand gesture, quickly chased by a ‘no’ motion. “Alright, closer now… mm, perhaps little?” That gets a reaction, a happy, rapid nodding! “Ah, so little is the first word. Alright, and the second?” Nodding more slowly now, the leaking vessel ponders; how in Hallownest are they supposed to act out the word ghost? They haven’t seen anything ethereal, they wouldn’t know how to act out a spirit… hmm, maybe they should just…?
Finally nodding once more, they stand up straighter, ignoring the blue liquid that drips down the back of their head, and gather their cloak about them to have it appear shorter. They then grip an imaginary nail on their back, pulling it forwards to swing once, then sheathe, then again, and sheathe. Hornet, to her credit, manages this one in one try. “Ah. Ghost. … I have just explained Ghost’s title, have I not?” With a little puff, they return to their usual stature, and nod, but then hold up a single paw-finger again, and use their other hand to point at it while intently staring at Hornet… earning only a confused look in return. They huff again, this time returning their paw to hovering over the ground, and then making the motion again, with more force.
“…… Ahhh, aha! You are wondering about why I call them Little Ghost, yes?” Finally, she understands!! The vessel deflates with a tired nod, a warm feeling rising within their void as they plop back into a sitting position. “Well, whereas Ghost of Hallownest is their title, Little Ghost is… I suppose a personal nickname. I- hm?” Interrupting her, the vessel points at her mouth enthusiastically, with a slight cant to their gaze. “Ah, you do not know that word? Nickname?” She pauses as they shake their pale-ivory head. “I see. A nickname can be many things. It can be a shortening of an existing title or name, or it can simply be something you call your fr-… acquaintances. I call them Little Ghost as a shortening of their title, paired with the fact that, compared to me, they are rather short of stature. Why do-? Ah, wait, you won’t be able to answer. Mm, allow me a moment to think of a proper question.”
As Hornet contemplates a sequence of yes-or-no inquiries to reach the heart of the matter, the vessel absorbs this new information. The flow of lifeblood from their leaking shell seems to pause for a moment… before a bubble starts to form, eventually growing large enough to burst. In the same instant, their mind floods with words, ideas, and sights that they are certain they’ve never seen and could never know. The sound of Hornet's chirps and clicks fades away, the percussive tones of her voice melting into soft melodies and instrumentals. Before they realize it, they've been swept into the sound of a gorgeous orchestra..
Enchanted by the beautiful siren’s song, they focus on the music behind their nonexistent ears, the orchestra behind their hollow eyes, and follow it. Farther and farther, back and back… until finally, they find themself sitting in an empty theatre, gazing eagerly at the stage before them.
Something shifts behind the curtains, and they slowly begin to part.
