i walk away from the soundless room~

[focusedvoid]

 (art by juvehiir)

 

The Shining City knows the Prin well. Significantly better than the Hallowed Heir, who keeps to the Palace nearly as much as Hallownest’s King. It’s not half as much of an event when they’re seen striding through the streets, escorted by none. They’re the one who escorts others, at times; Marissa in particular, after she gained a little too much attention in turn by their initial visit, or other such shopkeepers who found a surge in popularity after finding a royal customer. 

 

Thankfully, the worst of the dramatics and kowtowing tapered off as time went by. These days, Prin Ghost is given the occasional bow and a far more common wave, but barely any second glances.

 

Just as they wished.

And entertaining to everyone involved. 

 

Tucked within their cloak-wings, a good half of their brood clings, unknown to all but the most observant of passerby. Fuzz tickles with their silent laughter.

 

They wander with half a plan, furry heads popping out at their signals to observe and hide again. There's only a little rain to shake off afterwards. (A little? It's still plenty. Prin Ghost is used to such phantom considerations.)

An excellent game.

Comments

[oxydatum]

Powder's further exploration gets a chuckle out of him. Unabashedly curious, he carefully lifts his hand just an inch or two to get a better look. He takes great care to keep them dangling over the safe landing of Ghost's lap while he takes a closer peek at their wings.

"How tenacious! I certainly wouldn't have held on so well at that age - oh!" He unpins the invoice and lets Ghost take it. "Thank you. In the Archives it's the Kingdom for a spare set of hands - unless you're the Madam."

They're lowered again, if only because the other little Voidmoths were in the middle of evaluating his hand as well and he's loath to take it away from them.

Cinna's gesturing gets his attention. And he pauses, digging for the right word.

"Hm. I'm afraid I may be rusty, but I think the word you're looking for is - scarf," he signs, a little hesitantly, and half-apologetically looks to Ghost for confirmation. "That is right, isn't it? Only I can't remember if there's a specific sign for kerchief."

His free hand leaves Pepper a moment and begins fiddling at said kerchief, working it loose. Yes, he'll donate that to the Voidmoths' interests, too. He's rather smitten.

[focusedvoid]

Unfortunately, his attempt fails. Because Powder is now crawling up his arm upside-down.

It would be polite to try stopping them. Instead, Ghost waves the paper between their fingers, deciding to wait and see what Quirrel might do about it.

"Scarf, for around necks. I don't know that word." They spell k-e-r-c-h-i-e-f out, but shrug. The little ones aren't so good at that. And Ghost only knows 'scarf' from an odd fad from Deepnest among the more obnoxious of Hallownest's nobles.

Pepper flutters to the ground. It's easier to judge how to start climbing Quirrel's legs from here.

[oxydatum]

He is oblivious for a short moment while he assesses scarf-related topics and manages to undo his own. "Hmm... We'll try head-scarf, then, that would suffice quite well and I'll sign it when my hands are..." Not about to be free, are they. Ah, now he's noticing. "Oh!"

With some self-control he manages not to jerk his arm in surprise, though he does let go of the fabric and lets it flutter to Ghost's lap (to land softly by Cinna) as he darts that hand beneath Powder as a safety measure.

"Aren't you the adventurous one! Please, mind your antennae. They are quite ticklish and I'm concerned about dropping you... Oh," he adds again, glancing down. Oh indeed. "It seems I'm becoming a climbing frame."

...He doesn't sound very distressed. The opposite, maybe, though he does keep a sharp eye on the Prin to determine whether this is ruled as acceptably safe or not.

[focusedvoid]

Cinna dives onto the head-scarf in a decidedly predatory fashion, immediately jamming a corner into their mouth.

With a well-practiced movement, Ghost pops the tip of their smallest claw in with it and scoops it out. Cinna is just as happy to be chewing on their shell, pulling the cloth up over their head and Za's hand.

The Prin only needs one to sign laughter anyway. As well as, "All right?" They can tell the rest of their shadow-swarm is getting ideas...

Powder wants to examine Quirrel's face from his shoulder, but gets distracted, clinging onto his elbow to stare down at Pepper.

Pepper is much faster in their ascent, determined to get some kind of holding or snuggling done!

[oxydatum]

He's having a hard time keeping his voice straight. There is something very funny about seeing a little Voidmoth biting away at his possessions with no hesitation. A now-uncovered antenna gives a telltale twitch.

"I'm quite fine, thank you, I only - how are they with falling? I see wings, but that doesn't necessarily mean -!"

Quirrel cuts off and scoops his hand under Pepper, who seems to be throwing caution to the wind. Enough of that, they're getting a free ride. His hand travels beneath Powder as well, pushing up beneath their feet to encourage them to let go and stand on his hand as well. Then it'll be the both of them carried up to his face level.

He manages to keep his enthusiasm in check just enough to keep half a sense of where the others are headed - this seems to be becoming rather a test of his ability to spread his attention - but at the same time, the temptation currently proves too great.

Quirrel dips his face in and delicately offers the face of his mask to the two Voidmoths in his hand.

[focusedvoid]

"It won't hurt them," the Prin signs vaguely, sitting back.

Pepper immediately plops down to sit on Quirrel's palm and starts tracing around his eye. With their paws. And their snoot. Whatever that accomplishes is known only to them.

Za lightly swings the head-scarf behind Cinna's head. They try to grab it without letting go of the finger they're chewing, which fails utterly. They don't care about it, and it vanises soon after.

Powder puts a palm against Quirrel's mask too, but peers upward, obviously already thinking about climbing higher. "Antennae," they pull back to say, pointing to their own that fluff out to look like a trio of such at the roots, and then to his significantly smaller and more average set.

The rest are watching with heavy interest. Burnet leans forward enough that they tip over, clinging to Za's knee-joint upside-down now. Ghost lifts their leg and wiggles it softly, watching their wings flutter indignantly, a common game. Quickly distracted, the others start to find places to hold onto.

[oxydatum]

"Marvellous," he remarks, quite offhandedly, and very quiet so that his voice doesn't spook the little one patting around his face. It's reassuring to hear they won't be harmed, but he doesn't look like he's keen on letting them fall regardless.

All of this is quite the privilege, but perhaps it would be even if the family wasn't royal.

Since Powder asked - or, at least, compared - Quirrel tilts his head forward a bit and lowers both antennae down almost to their level, waggling them just overhead.

"Not quite as impressive I'm afraid, but as functional as any." He squints, then, at Powder's, and concedes: "As most."

He addresses Ghost, though he doesn't look away from the little ones and only a very slight tone shift will tell.

"I've never seen the like," and quickly: "which I intend entirely as flattery. Forgive my curiosity but I don't believe I'm sharp enough to determine the other lucky parent...?" Unspoken: he has no idea how these genetics have happened, much like most. Though unlike some he's opted to ask in the most ordinary way possible.

[focusedvoid]

Powder takes that as permission to flicker their wings and flutter up to land between antennae, turning to examine them from the top. Their Za thinks it's funny even as they shimmy forward, freeing their claws from Cinna's grip and pulling out a shiny silver ring of metal to gnaw instead.

"A steadfast member of the Moth Tribe, I'm sure you've observed that much. Unless you've visited the Palace quite recently, you are unlikely to have met the specific individual." Dear Hazewing shies away from being too known. Ghost doesn't blame him.

[oxydatum]

He's looking at them without turning his head too much. There are little Voidmoths perched on him that he doesn't want to disturb, even for politeness' sake.

"Now, that would be hard to miss! Yes, I gathered that much." Quirrel laughs lightly. A name is too much to ask then, or they'd have said. He doesn't pursue it. "I'm afraid my visits to the Palace are infrequent. I am to remain at the Madam's call as well, and that does keep me busy. Socialising hasn't made it onto my list as of yet!"

His antennae twitch back up into place, fidgeting once before going still.

"Be careful up there. I'm not used to being a platform."

Quirrel cups behind Pepper with the hand they're not standing on, and resumes fussing at their fluff with one thumb.

He is doing a remarkable job at holding very still.

[focusedvoid]

Prin Ghost is rustling their legs together, feeling their little voidmoths skittering around more than watching.

"I don't blame you. It's a poor place visit often, and worse to socialize at." Trust them, they live there. Or perhaps that's a better reason not to trust them...? They're desensitized to the grandeur of the place, and most to encounter are either awestruck worshippers of the King on important mission, or the King himself and his family. The Prin loves their Siblings, certainly, but the rest they can take or leave.

(And oftentimes, they leave.)

Powder sits down between the antennae, sticking their paws out to Pepper, who grabs on instinct and gets yanked up Quirrel's face with wild leg- and wing-flailing.